Not Quite A Shakespearean Sonnet

Love’s sweet embrace

How do I love thee?
I cannot count the ways.
Not the fluttering in my heart,
Nor the shortness in my breath,
Nor the lightness in my step,
Not even the sparkle in my eyes at the thought of you,
Or the elation in my soul at the sound of your sweet smile,
None of this will ever truly hint at how much I love thee.

Perhaps a hug,
No, an enshrouding embrace with a lingering caress of your lips
may shed some light into the depth of my love.
But even then, the truth of my love will still remain untold.

For I love thee like I’ve loved no other,
And I live for thee, which I’ve never done for another.
So you must love me,
And you must cherish me,
And you must hold me,
And never leave me.
For if you do, it will destroy me,
And neither you nor I will ever be blessed with such a love again.


As resilient as I may feel at times, there are moments when it feels as if I’m about to crumble. Being an idealist is tiring. It raises expectations that the pragmatist in me convinces me is practically achievable, if only…and it’s that ‘if only’ that always sets me up for a whole lot of hurting. But occasionally, the ‘if only’ bit proves to be true and what I wish for actually materialises for a few brief moments, which only reaffirms the fragility, because the achievement of something I desire or yearn for is a subtle reminder that I have that much more that can be ripped away from me.

I’m not used to having what I desire, just what I need. What I desire most right now is equally fragile, if not more so. I can’t give up wanting to have her in my life. She completes me, and even though the potential loss of her threatens to destroy me completely, every cell in my fatigued body refuses to give up on her. Which only makes me more fragile when I really need to be more strong. But I’m still optimistic. I have an expectation of happiness, even if my┬áhead feels hopeless, my heart will hear nothing of it.


The only thing more tragic than loneliness is a person who chooses to be alone when they have an option not to be. Someone once told me that we shouldn’t make a priority in our lives those that have us only as an option in theirs. But that’s easier said than done, like so many things in life. Being an armchair critic is so convenient. I digress.

What am I to do if I feel the anguish of a kindred spirit, see with absolute clarity and certainty their martyr-like behaviour driven by their need to appease dear ones to the detriment of their own soul; yet not being able to get them to reach out and accept some of the warmth that is on offer and so desired by them as well? Do I walk away and leave them to their own devices because it is after all their choice? Or do I fight on at the expense of my own spirit until the heart dearest to mine finally embraces some of the peace that is yearning to be shared? What will become of my own sense of self-worth if that embrace never comes? Will the eternal optimist in me scrape myself off that cold floor yet again, or will my spirit be so exhausted that I’ll finally yield and accept defeat? I’m so close to yielding already…so so close.

Will I eventually choose yet another convenient option in the aftermath of the harshest rejection yet, despite the destruction and havoc that the convenient options have caused already? No, yielding is so much more safer this time…another convenient option just won’t do…and so, I yield…

Head or Heart?

Which one is superior? Is it a matter of superiority or is it about finding a balance about when to trust which centre of intelligence…the emotional or the intellectual one? I’ve tried both so far and still find myself floundering around at times trying to figure out which should be dominant. Maybe in times of seeking a pragmatic outcome, the head should dominate, but when seeking a divinely inspired outcome, the heart should prevail. However, that in itself is a problem, because how do you objectively determine which of the two outcomes it is that is desired or preferable in any given situation, especially since situations that result in a conflict of the two centres usually have an enormous impact on your level of sanity.

Another futile pursuit for clarity perhaps?