He felt like a bird on a dead branch. Only that he didn’t crave for all the view that this absence of foliage now offered him. He needed obstructions, something in his sight preventing him from seeing her, something like a dense foliage from another branch. A few persons perhaps. But sometimes, he is now convinced, you end up being on a wrong tree. And no matter how hard you crave for rains, some trees never bear leaves.
The best part about unrequited love is that it teaches you all you need to learn about love, but that unfortunately also happens to be the wrong way of learning all there is to learn about love. And so he grew apprehensive about his own limitations – of how long could he give all he had in him despite being repudiated like a person in some government office, of how more could his heart possibly take in before it succumbed to everything and everyone he held dear. And then he would no longer be the bird but the dead branch, offering company to the birds by giving them a view and a seat.
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