The Achingly Delicious poetry of Sanober Khan.
What do we mortals do when we’ve given up on love?
When we’ve given up on finding that exquisite kind of love…the one we know exists. We’ve had it before; it was real (wasn’t it?). The kind of love that makes us incapable of settling for anything less than an all-consuming, passionate, dripping, aching connection with another.
I’ve had that kind of love…a few times. I gave those loves away because the moon was full or the grass looked greener or I was terrible at communicating my needs. Mostly because I was too young and silly to understand it wasn’t the norm. I thought I would feel that deeply each time. I didn’t. I haven’t. I don’t think I ever will again.
So, we do what we can to fill that gaping hole in our hearts, the one that feels like it has shrunk so small from not being used, not being felt — yet it gets ripped open wider each time that we remember what we felt before, and that becomes today’s ache of loneliness.
And the mind, what do we feed our mind with when we can no longer fantasize about the next time we see them, the one who occupies all our mental energy. Watching rom-coms feel formulaic and vapid, reading classics like Pride & Prejudice only makes us long for that type of ending, and beginning.
