After

After a little while, I’m sure you would have already forgotten how you gently kissed those strawberry succulent lips, how you sucked the air out of the other’s breath, tasting wild berries and a tinge of tasty vanilla. After a couple of weeks or a few months, you would have already rid off the songs you both shared over windows drenched with raindrops and moist, and a steamy cup of Milo and coffee. You would have already extracted out of your brain the few reminiscent words of the playful pet names, the names that the general populace of over-clichéd couples usually use. You would have realized how both of you were much the same as those usual couples who end up over a heated argument, make up over some heated intercourse, and start all over again with the cycle of breaking up and making up, and breaking up and making up — although in the beginning, you thought otherwise. But no, you were never different. Both of you were all just the same as the others.

After a little while, I’m sure you would have already thought out how ephemeral love actually is, how short-lived those topsy-turvy gut-feelings that ruin everything for you are.

After a little while, I’m pretty sure, no matter how long the extent of pain you’ve managed to endure, or how much martyrdom is epitomized in your crazed search for answers, you would have, in some way or another, let go.

You would have let go, because honestly, that’s all there is left to do.
Until then can you start to love again, and let go once again, and love again, and let go once again…