iRobot

I knew what love was.

Or maybe love is the wrong definition for what i felt. It was overwhelming, all consuming. It was way beyond fondness; that’s for sure.  It’s all gone now, and I cannot pretend to be empty, even if my chest feels hollow. You hold my heart in your hand. Maybe I am Davy Jones, my Celeste, but there is a certainty of loss that comes with the pain from the knife you stabbed it with. I am simply archiving the hurt. Colours hold no meaning now; I only see in greyscale.

Now when they ask me,

What is there to say? That I gave up my world for a new one, and lost both? That I traded everything for nothing? There is no substitute. There is no distraction. Only loss.

I just reply slow,

As my CPU has been corrupted. You are that virus, and there is no instant remedy. My memory is a cloud. You are that fever that one has to sweat out. You are the delirium that keeps me in a restless waking dream…and it really isn’t your fault.

It’s mine.

And sound like an iPhone.

The same one that I could not bear to look, at. Our conversations are in it, eternally preserved as a monument to my love and loss. I will not destroy it, as it’s a good reminder and a better lesson.

I do not know love.

For all I have learned and experienced, for alll the times I have been jaded, I know nothing. For all my prayers, plans, hopes and efforts, I was blind and thus, blindsided. I will have to learn again.

I am a robot.

*Inspired by Jon Bellion’s “iRobot”.

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