Before love turns cold

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Some days we’re like lovers in France. He holds me and tells me that I’m all his. I hold his hand and know that he is mine, forever. At times I whisper, “Iloveyous” into his crooked bones like a prayer. Other times I wander around his body trying to find something that would make me fall in love with him. He laughs at me for loving him but only after he broke my heart and before he broke my hand.
He says that I don’t know how to love, unless they are broken and need fixing.
“You don’t love, babe”, he says,“You try fixing what can never be fixed”.
I see in him a child who lost his way seeking shelter in an abandoned house hiding behind the sink so that the storm doesn’t knock him out. It is a game where we both hide and days go by before one of us is found.
On the good days he lets me in and we crash into each other like it is the only way we know how to love. Messy and destructive. On the bad days he locks me out and I become an immigrant in our house. Shunned and ridiculed. Last night, I asked him to tell me three good things about himself but he couldn’t answer. Then I asked him to tell me the three flaws he has and he stated a list.
“What about you?” he said
“I try fixing what can’t be fixed and I don’t know whether this is a flaw or a merit.” ,I replied
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About Bano

I’m trying to find a better introduction but since, I can’t? Hi! I’m Sheher Bano Zafar and I write. I write not because there lies aspiration to be a writer someday but because, it keeps me sane. I love the color silver, black and grey. I also realize that they fall under the same color tone. Whatever, I write is a result of my 3 a.m blues or insomniac depressive tendencies. I can’t write during the day. I’m addicted to caffeine and well, anything and everything (if I like it). Also, I suck at conversations. I bite my nails. Most of the time I’m clueless about the world around me. I love politics and youth activism. People tell me that art and politics don’t belong in the same mind, but I’m passionate about both. One day I might be drawing on a canvas or writing a story and the very next day I will be heading off to attend a summit on the role of youth at the United Nations. I have multiple people trapped in the same body. Each side does try to express itself, in minimal ways if not fully. I’m currently going through a rough patch in life. I guess, I’m adjusting to the world through multiple perceptions. I absolutely love talking to myself because an expert opinion is always required. Most of the time, I just play scenarios in my mind that would never happen. I’m very contradictory in my thought process and actions but it is okay, people get to be what they want to be as long as no other soul is hurt. Peace out!

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