Not all love stories

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The love you saw in her eyes, it was in yours. The tenderness and simplicity you witnessed in her, it was how you’ve always wanted her to be. The way she heals, this was the only thing you knew about healing.

The pain she gave it to you, it was hers. The carnage she has left behind, it was both of ours.

The only share I had, I stood there to take it.

The things we exchanged, it was the opposite of what we have always believed in.

I’d still call it as a ‘fulfilled love story’, not conventionally fulfilling. We gave each other what we had and what we had always found to be right.

Not in all love stories, we exchange souls.

Ours was the one where we’d exchanged hearts, not souls.

This is how the opposite things in us save us. It only allowed us to exchange the hearts. It stopped us from exchanging souls because it would not have been possible.

We gave one another the best and we gave one another the opposite.

Not in all love stories, we exchange hearts but only souls.

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