you know, there is that certain thing about certain people. the thing that makes you fall in love with them. deep down, you know it will ruin you. you know, they will leave like a trainwreck. but you look in their eyes, and you convince yourself to believe in every lie that comes out of their mouth. . you know, maybe this is what love is. you hold their hand as if they are the lifeboat and you're in the middle of a goddamn ocean. you look at them and tell yourself what is there in this world that you wouldn't do for them. . deep down, you know they're not good for you. your friends know that they aren't good for you. but you make a paper-ball out of all the logical thoughts that you've in your brain and then throw it in the dustbin. and maybe that's what love does to you. . you tell yourself that your love will make them stay. you tell yourself that maybe someday something will happen. you stay up at night and listen to them talk about their favourite hozier song. you listen to them as they talk about their favorite shade of yellow. you listen and remember all the foolish stories they tell you from their childhood. . then, you'd hold hands on some evenings as you'd watch the sunset while sipping irani chai. your hands entwine, in the darkness. both of you stare at each other, on the rooftop as the evening namaaz fills the silence between the two of you. you pat on their back lightly. you look at them and speak, "you know, i love you, right?" . they look at you, and reply, "yes, i know," . and there you have it: the whole world tells you to call it off. to not talk. to stay away. they'll tell you that you deserve better. and deep down, even you know that it was your stupidity that you kept talking to them. even though you knew, that they'd just walk away, one day. . you keep hoping that someday something will change.