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The Problem

July 7, 2016

The problem with love is it always ends. And it never goes away. The thing about the ache we feel whenever a memory hits us like a derailed train, is we never see it coming, we cannot control it. 

 

That smile across your face when you least expect it, the incontrolable laughter when you’re trying to work at the office on a Monday afternoon. That longing for the body you can no longer feel next to you, the breath that can no longer tickle the back of your neck.

 

The problem with kisses is there are never enough. One day you wake up and realise they’re over and you didn’t reach your quota. It’s an embargo that you cannot protest. It’s a sad reality that you’ll wake up in the middle of the night and reach out, and nobody will reach back because you’re alone, and nobody is coming. That a strange, cut out “hello” can make a world of a difference, yet it never comes your way. 

 

You daydream about everything that could have been, or should have been, and will never be. Because the oxygen supply got cut short and you have to figure out how to breathe without help, how to walk with no crutches when your legs are broken in half. 

 

The thing about love is you never plan for it to hit you, and then you don’t want it to leave. It’s that it’s really never enough and, as fleeting as a shooting star, it shines in your life and then all goes back to darkness. 

 

The problem with you is I don’t know how to stop loving you. I still have all this love to give, and nobody to receive it. I keep longing to make you smile, to feel your arms, yet I reach out and you’re no longer here. The thing about this is that it was never a choice, and now I can’t even see you, not even to fight with you about why our love had to go away. 

 

The problem with love is it always ends. And it’s, really, never enough. 

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Susy

Alfaro