back AT it :P

There are certain days you wish would never end—like a birthday, for instance. Imagine if such a day could stretch to 72 hours, packed with endless joy, cherished memories, and all the things that make you feel truly alive. These are the moments that remind us of the essence of living—a sense of fulfillment, a discovery of something we didn’t even know we were seeking, a glimpse of life at its most vibrant. But here’s the thing: while I could write about these feelings endlessly—and trust me, I have, more times than I can count—I keep coming back to one question: how much is too much? Is there ever a limit to expressing something you love purely with all your heart and soul? Does talking about it, sharing it, and writing about it over and over somehow dilute its meaning?

Maybe the answer lies not in how often we express it, but in how deeply it resonates each time. If the emotion is genuine, its meaning doesn’t fade—it evolves, adding new layers of understanding and connection. After all, isn’t that what love, passion, and life are all about? At this point, I don't even know how well it translates virtually, but whenever I think about the whole scenario and share my feelings on social media or talk about it with someone, it transports me to some another place. And so here I am, talking about it, writing about it, expressing my love for it as his voice lurks in my head and I found myself smiling. Like always.

This one particular quote that I'd like to mention, that deeply resonates with me even after 7 years and I don't ever want to hear it in anyone else's voice but him- "The problem is not that I talk, what I talk about, whom I talk to. The problem is that for the last 4 years I am just waiting for a time to come, when everything will be fine. I will be happy. But now, whatever I am doing, whatever way I have reached here, I am happy. Today! It is good, isn't it? There is no waiting."  

(Sighed, smiled and kept thinking about it for a while)

An unusual wave of emotions ran through as I thought about it. Having said that, I do think about what it would be like to have crossed paths with him someday. What would I do or say if I ever run into him? I probably would... I don't know... Maybe, I will start talking about 'it' and would like him to share his experience or would simply smile, say Hello and walk away. But do I want to meet him? A big NO! For some reason, I feel that if I ever get a chance to see him in person, it might change everything. There is still a bittersweet feeling of longing and fear attached to it, paired with an overwhelming apprehension that doing so might ruin the innocently delicate balance of what currently exists—the mystery, the anticipation, or even the idealized image I have built in my mind. It’s a vulnerability rooted in the fear that reality might not live up to the perfection I have imagined, or that things might change irreversibly once the moment arrives. It's the fragile tension between hope and hesitation with utmost love and huge respect. 

And yet again, I caught myself in this cycle of thoughts—revisiting, rewriting, reliving. It’s as though I can’t help but return to this place, no matter how many times I’ve been here before. So here I am...back at it!