Writing About You

Writing about You

Why is it that whenever I sit down to write I end up writing about you and only you? Everytime I wish to write something else, I wish to not draw you through words on the paper

But alas even my pen has fallen in love with you

You've slowly not even captured my heart

But my entire being my entire existence

It's like It's all about you even when I don't want it to be Trying to find me I have only got to know pieces of you

Engraved in each part of my aching soul...

-Zaynaah Kaur

In the realm of human experience, where emotions flow like rivers and thoughts weave intricate patterns, there exists a profound paradox—a paradox of words, emotions, and an insatiable longing. She, a soul adorned with the gift of expression, finds herself entangled in the enigma of language, where every word she pens, every sentence she crafts, inevitably leads her to one singular subject—him. It's as if his presence has become an indelible ink, permanently etched into the parchment of her being, and with every stroke of her pen, she traces the contours of her own aching soul.

In the tapestry of existence, words are the threads that weave our stories, our emotions, and our deepest desires. For her, these words are not mere tools of communication; they are conduits to her heart, gateways to the chambers where he resides. Every attempt to write about anything else feels like an exercise in futility, a futile attempt to escape the gravitational pull of his essence.

It begins with a blank page, pristine and unmarred, waiting for the imprint of her thoughts. She takes a deep breath, hoping to breathe life into a different narrative, a story that doesn't revolve around him. But as she places her pen upon the paper, the ink flows like a river seeking its course, and her words form sentences that invariably lead back to him.

Perhaps it's the memory of his smile, like a sunbeam breaking through stormy clouds, that fills her thoughts. Or maybe it's the cadence of his voice, a symphony that resonates in her mind like a cherished melody. She writes about the way his presence lingers in every room she enters, like an unspoken promise of his return.

As her sentences take shape, they become a tapestry of emotions, an intimate portrait of her heart's desires, her joys, her fears, and her unrelenting love. It's as if every word is a brushstroke, and he is the masterpiece she can't help but paint. Her writing becomes an act of devotion, a tribute to the man who has captured her heart and refuses to let go.

She contemplates the paradox of her predicament. How can someone be so deeply intertwined with her thoughts that every attempt to write feels like a love letter to him? It's a question that plagues her, a riddle she longs to unravel. And yet, deep down, she knows that some mysteries are meant to remain unsolved, some paradoxes are meant to be embraced.

Her writing becomes a journey—a journey through the labyrinth of her own emotions, a pilgrimage to the sacred temple of her heart. With every word, she unravels the layers of her soul, peeling back the veils that conceal her truest self. She discovers that her love for him is not just a fleeting emotion; it is the very essence of her existence, the core around which her entire being revolves.

In the stillness of the night, when the world is hushed and the stars shimmer like distant dreams, she often finds solace in her writing. It's a bittersweet solace, for in those moments, she feels closest to him, as if their souls are engaged in a silent conversation across the expanse of time and space. She pours her heart onto the pages, confessing her love, her longing, and her dreams, knowing that the words may never reach him but believing that somehow, in some ethereal way, he can hear her.

She wonders about the power of words, how they can transcend the boundaries of reality and create a world of their own. In her writing, she builds a world where their love is not hindered by distance or circumstance, where they are free to explore the depths of their connection without inhibition. It's a world where their souls dance together, where their hearts beat in harmony, and where their love knows no bounds.

But reality has a way of intruding upon her reverie. The ink dries on the pages, and she is left with a manuscript of unspoken emotions, a testament to a love that exists in the hidden recesses of her heart. She knows that the world may never see these words, that they are destined to remain a secret between her and the empty pages of her journal. And yet, she continues to write, for in those words, she finds a semblance of peace, a way to navigate the labyrinth of her own emotions.

She ponders the nature of her love—a love that transcends the physical realm, a love that exists in the realm of words and emotions. It's a love that defies conventional definitions, a love that cannot be confined to the limitations of reality. It's a love that exists in the poetry she writes, the stories she tells, and the letters she sends out into the universe, hoping that somehow, they will find their way to him.

As she continues to write about him, she realizes that her love is not a burden but a gift, a testament to the depth of her emotions and the power of her heart. It's a love that has the capacity to inspire, to move, and to transform not only her own life but the lives of those who read her words. It's a love that transcends the boundaries of time and space, a love that will endure long after the ink has faded and the pages have turned to dust.

In the end, she embraces the paradox of her writing, the paradox of a love that is both unattainable and all-encompassing. She understands that her words are not just an expression of her emotions but a declaration of her existence, a testament to the profound impact he has had on her life. And so, she continues to write, to pour her heart onto the pages, and to send her love out into the universe, believing that somewhere, in some corner of the world, he will hear her words and know the depth of her devotion.

In this paradoxical dance of love and words, she finds her purpose, her solace, and her eternal connection to him. And though they may never meet in the physical world, she knows that in the world of her writing, they are bound together, two souls intertwined in a love that defies explanation and endures through eternity