The feeling of being the most beautiful piece of art in a world where umpteen people call you ugly.
Perhaps the motionless gaze he fixes on you.
The feeling of having the purest heart in a world full of people with crooked minds and wicked intentions.
Perhaps the warm arms that engulf you.
The feeling of having all that you could when in reality, you just have almost nothing.
Perhaps, the gentle forehead kiss.
The feeling of being the best in a world where you can never be the best.
Perhaps, the hearty laugh you laugh.
That’s what you call love? Right?
We all have different ways of describing the love we’ve experienced.
No two mortals can love the same in the world.
No two souls can give you the same level of comfort.
No two people can produce the same butterflies in your stomach.
It’s all different. Every person, every bond, every feel. You just can’t compare.
Nevertheless, the best does exist.
“You know, she’s the best sister I could ever had”
“Oh, he’s the best guy I’ve ever met”
“Watch out, she’s my bestfriend”
‘Best’ is a relative term, yet, we do associate heavenly attributes with it.
One fine day, you lose the person you’ve loved. The soul is gone.
And you break?
You’re crumbled like a piece of paper?
You’re shattered like a piece of glass?
No, you’re not.
You’re the one, who’s been through the experience of having the best, being the best.
You’re the one, who’s been through it all, and are still fighting.
You’re the one, who’s gained and lost.
How can you lose without gaining? Can you?
“Damn, I lost the championship after clearing the semis”
Well, only after you won in the semi-finals did you lose in the finals?
How will you know the joy of winning until you lose?
How will you fear losing until you win?
Be glad, be happy, be content.
I understand, you’ve lost him.
But isn’t losing better than the fear of losing?
You lose circumstances, never the strength to fight against them.
You lose matches, never your skill.
You lose jobs, never your experience.
You lose people, never the love.
The loss is never yours, till you let yourself fall from the height you reached.
You lost him, never his love.
Life Is After All Beautiful.
I was suggested to write on ‘Lost Love’ by Ambika Jha. I hope I was able to stand up to the expectations. 😀