Unmuffled

definitions

to this day, it still puzzles me how you were able to stitch the words, "i don't love you anymore, but i still care for you". when i have always thought that care always came with love.

how would you define care without love? perhaps a governess taking care of a child? a wet nurse feeding an infant? a stranger in guard of his ward? because the last time i've checked, i didn't pay for you to love me nor did i arrange a deal with fate. we happened like an impossible dice roll, getting a perfect 13 from a 12-sided die.

so how? perhaps i got accustomed to the thought? so much so that love and care became my fifth fundamental force, that we'd rattle gravities that held galaxies, as we became the universe itself. we'd worship each other, we knew no other religion but us, and we'd be deities of our love. perhaps to this day, you think you still are. you'd even redefine care without me knowing, that it can exist without loving. and i'll tell you, i'd rather get that explained than what the universe has to offer.

i am no deity, as if i ever truly was. i only felt powerful with your love. but right now, i still like to believe that amid your redefinitions of love and care, i can still define my own. and that i now have the courage to say that you were wrong and delusionary. you stitched those words out of your guilt. because how would you have cared when someone you loved was dying right in front of you?

this time, i define my own.