Love me, even if it's a lie. Leave me yet never say goodbye

Love? he asked himself, giving no sense of recognition for that word in the dictionary of his mind. It was the only battle he had lost in life, the only thing that had been snatched away from him, before he could even claim it.

That night it did not rain as much in the sky as it did in his heart.

I wonder if I could take back every 'I love you' ever said to you, would I do it?

There is no home as comfortable as your father's arms and no bed as soft as your mother's lap.

Love, he told himself, was open to interpretation like any other abstract indulgence but followed the same principles everywhere, irrespective of everything else. One, either won or lost in love, there was no bridge in between, and he decided he had lost, lost to himself, if not to her.

It was like watching a movie being played on the blank screen of his mind; the only difference was that he did not get bored, no matter how many times he watched it.