The flower has wilted

What would actually matter to a woman is remembering the little things coz to the feminine energy the small things make a huge wave.
Remember her birthday without being reminded.
Do something to show that you remember your anniversary without being asked. 
Give her flowers without a reason.

Not everything that is expected is expensive and not everything expensive is expected.

The tears that are shed from the  eyes are invaluable. You will know only when they dry up toward you. 
The love professed will be felt only when it is held restrained after the unleashed expression. 
The care given experienced only when the giver isnt around anymore.
The support given will be recognised only when the support crumbles.

When all this happens...
The hands no longer search for it's pair to hold. 
The neck doesn't tilt to the shoulder...
That second when instinctively you breathe in their scent doesn't happen as often.
The tongue gets caught among the cats.
The few liberties that are allowed are left untaken.

So said the other half

DewDon't push me to the extent where I go back to what I am capable of.

I know how to engage in conversations with four different people each thinking we are exclusive.

It's big thing that I have committed to a relationship / person for so long. I have put in so much and I don't get acknowledged for it. 

I have given so much of sweat and time and travel to keep this relationship going and all I get is discontent.

All these lines sound familiar? 

I would have heard these lines told to me, or near me A . K. A to my friends in a relationship. 

It all boils down to importance or expectations.
You give me importance. 
Or
you expect too much from me. 
Or
I expect too much from you. 
Or
I give up
Or you give up. 

But when we actually see this whole power play in a relationship....
It to me seems so immaterial. 
I don't know. 
I don't really know.

I could also say I really don't know. 

Someone help me out? 
Maybe no-one can, but for the one I rant about. 
Maybe even they cant coz I most likely don't make any sense.
Nothing is black or white you see. 
In a story there's either, my side,  your side and the reality, all three never merge into one version.

Are you OK?
That's a question that I have been asked too often these days.
No. I am not.
But what can the enquirer do about it when me being who I am and where I am standing am not able to do anything about it....
Are you OK?
No I most definitely am not.
I highly doubt that I ever will be.
Not victimising myself or dramatising the situations.
But it is what it is.
It will continue to be the same way if I continue to be the same.
So what am I going to do that can change the situation?

I could move back to the city.
I could start talking to people.
It's been seven years now that I spoke to anyone on a normal basis.
Maybe I should get in touch with people.
They must have moved on.  They most definitely would have moved on their paths.  Faced their struggles.  Their highs. Their lows...
The rollercoaster ride that life is doesn't really bother if we are together.  It makes the best of its efforts to break hands that's would have been bonded by the rope of friendship.  Throws all of us in different directions and puts us through different currents that pull us so far apart...

Thinking of all these ifs buts maybes and what ifs makes me realise that I took the easy way out.  I chose to withdraw. To stay non contactable. I chose to leave social media.  Now the last few months now I chose to leave communication apps which I must agree was a choice I made to run and to hide.  To bury my head under the sand and believe that there wasn't a storm around.
It's time.
It is.
Are you OK?
I will be

Shade of the teak tree

I have given up
What is meant to be will be. 

Drained.
Exhausted. 
Depleted treasury of hope. 
Insufficient balance of tears. 
The slope is not slope-y enough for the remaining balance of tears to be able to roll down. 
The curtains over the eyes haven't shut yet. 
When they shut may the last diamond spill and may the soil take note and give forth it's bounty.

Maybe it is meant to be futile. 
Maybe everything is going as per the grand design.
The design fated does not hold any patterns of branches or flowers that fall. 
The leaves once drawn will hold it's place forever. 
Rain sun wind or none the leaf will stay still. 
The story of my days are the same as the one of the leaf through the seasons.  Seeing all winds. 
Standing through the times and watching the tides. 
I hope i don't stand for as long as the youngest teak tree among a teak forest.
I hope to never see the sapling I planted to begin it's bark phase. 
I hope to never sit in its shade.