I held him dearest.
He was my ultimate prize, sadly the one I could never secure.
They say love at this blossom is mere obsession.
But I say, it can’t be for obsessions never lasted forever.
But love.
Since quarter of a dozen years, I loved him.
Keeping him aside as a thought meticulously folded, calmed myself fooling for it to be unrealistic.
He was both, my Satan and my Angel
Guiding me to the light and leading me to the dungeon.
He was a drug to which I was addicted.
Maybe, he slowly turned into a mere fragment of imagination. Maybe that’s how I healed, every morning.
Until, the lights of the night shut out.

~Pragya Sachdeva