Bewafaii ki gharri, tark-e madaraat ka waqt
Uss gharri apnay siva yaad na aey ga koi...
I tried so hard, I really did, to let this September pass without comment. There was nothing to say, really. For a while there, it seemed that fate had smiled on me. The happiness that looked to be within reach seemed pre-ordained. Meant-to-be.
It's September once more, and my heart beats in time with the drums of loss.
I'm older, infinitely more practical, and hopefully, smarter. I can see the patterns that, once upon a dream, would have made no sense to me. Maybe I'm just being negative, maybe things will work out. Maybe I'm giving up too soon. But I can't stop trying to 'prepare' myself for a bad end. I seem to believe if I expect it to end badly, it won't affect me as much.
This time around, I will not cling, I will not beg. This time around, I'm going to pretend to understand and accept. I'm going to pretend to be grown up about this, sophisticated and worldy. I will let go. I will not crash.
This time around I'm going to pretend heart-break doesn't hurt.
Never Again.
[With apologies to Faiz:
In a moment of infidelity, at the severing of ties
One will think of naught but ones self, in that instance]
