Floating Feathers - poetry and prose

Jalte Diye

I don't understand you.
I do and I don't.
You wish for a devotion so strong and firm, that no storm, no rain, no circumstance, could ever douse the flame of the Diya lit for you...
And I gave you exactly that. For the longest period ever. And you still didn't want it.

Why is it that you only enjoy the honeymoon phase?
Anything longer than that doesn't last for you.

Love isn't a spider or a snake to be afraid of.
It's something that is sweet, and caring, and safe, to embrace.
(A promise, didn't you say?)
Something that doesn't quit on you the second things get hard.
(So why did you?)

Did I fail to give you those things?
I don't think I did. I gave whatever I could. My time. My compassion. My understanding. My companionship -- even when I couldn't quite get it. My energy. My patience.
I unloaded my arsenal and refilled it with more; with different things.
New things;
Recognising each new need of yours, which I learned about, over time, and I gave it to you -- no questions asked.

I prioritised you, and your wellbeing.

I did it - not to be some lovesick, pathetic fool who is whipped, and cannot exist without their lover - I can very well do that - I've done it before you - and for the longest period of time.

I did it willingly.
Because, I cared.
Because, I loved.

What was it, that you said? About Nick and Amy?
(Can I say it? They're not my words, they're yours. If I don't, how else will you understand?)
About being willing to change; to recognise a person's need and giving it to them.
That no one can say they have a love like that; that would do all those things.

You could say that.
You had it.
You had the eternal flame.
The burning Diya.
The hand to protect it from the rain.

Instead, you burned that hand.
(And, ironically, it wasn't yours.)

--- Ink and Wander