(no subject)
forever is a lie
You once told me that forever was a truth.
A truth more binding than love itself, were your words, and I can still trace out the tips of your smile when I childishly frowned at the defeat of our relationship. I used to push that idea away, then, the vastness, the emptiness of forever too foreboding against the pale lilac of our canvas. Let’s think about now, I urged, whenever you talked of later. What do you want to do now?
How foolish I was. How foolish I must have seemed to you. But what could I do? Perhaps even I - as young and rash as I was - even I knew that we were hurtling towards an end. Perhaps I was in my own protective case of denial, willing our last pages to multiply, to add up, to replicate each other. Anything for a touch of comfort that everything will last, that the skies will stay blue, that the fields would stay green. That I will always call your name, and you will always turn around. What can I say? I was the young, inexperienced lover. I was the believer of fairytales.
You were always the better person. I knew this then, and I know this now. You were the one who read the last pages but said nothing; the one who knocked on my glass case, but walked away; the one that painted the skies blue and the fields green when both turned a sour grey. You were the better person, but you told me that forever was truth more binding than love, and I believed you. Forever was no simple word in the dictionary. Forever was a promise, an oath, a finality. If something was forever, it was true. There was no doubts about it - for you had told me it was so, and you were the world.
Ten years later, I am no longer that childish girl that chased butterflies. I no longer see the world through your blue-green eyes, and see the sky for the color it is. I understand impermanency, evanescence, and the beauty of both. I do not cry over lost relationships, and I do not cry over you.
But one last thing before you disappear from my memory. My tribute to my lost world. Just one last thing, and I’ll let you go.
You were wrong.
Forever is nothing but an ugly lie.
Like a double-edged sword, anything that lasts forever is true; but nothing lasts forever, and everything is a lie. When the sky promised me that it would shine on forever, it lied. When the grasses swore to endless green, they lied. When you whispered that you loved me,
you lied
nothing, nothing lasts
forever
and
forever is
a
lie.
You once told me that forever was a truth.
A truth more binding than love itself, were your words, and I can still trace out the tips of your smile when I childishly frowned at the defeat of our relationship. I used to push that idea away, then, the vastness, the emptiness of forever too foreboding against the pale lilac of our canvas. Let’s think about now, I urged, whenever you talked of later. What do you want to do now?
How foolish I was. How foolish I must have seemed to you. But what could I do? Perhaps even I - as young and rash as I was - even I knew that we were hurtling towards an end. Perhaps I was in my own protective case of denial, willing our last pages to multiply, to add up, to replicate each other. Anything for a touch of comfort that everything will last, that the skies will stay blue, that the fields would stay green. That I will always call your name, and you will always turn around. What can I say? I was the young, inexperienced lover. I was the believer of fairytales.
You were always the better person. I knew this then, and I know this now. You were the one who read the last pages but said nothing; the one who knocked on my glass case, but walked away; the one that painted the skies blue and the fields green when both turned a sour grey. You were the better person, but you told me that forever was truth more binding than love, and I believed you. Forever was no simple word in the dictionary. Forever was a promise, an oath, a finality. If something was forever, it was true. There was no doubts about it - for you had told me it was so, and you were the world.
Ten years later, I am no longer that childish girl that chased butterflies. I no longer see the world through your blue-green eyes, and see the sky for the color it is. I understand impermanency, evanescence, and the beauty of both. I do not cry over lost relationships, and I do not cry over you.
But one last thing before you disappear from my memory. My tribute to my lost world. Just one last thing, and I’ll let you go.
You were wrong.
Forever is nothing but an ugly lie.
Like a double-edged sword, anything that lasts forever is true; but nothing lasts forever, and everything is a lie. When the sky promised me that it would shine on forever, it lied. When the grasses swore to endless green, they lied. When you whispered that you loved me,
you lied
nothing, nothing lasts
forever
and
forever is
a
lie.
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