u/Toomanyfksgvn18

Public Display of Affection

Just saw a couple making out inside a Creta. That too, on a busy road near the High Court. The glass was tinted, but it was still visible, and the act was pretty evident.

Dude, if you’re seeing this, get a room. Or, if it’s some kind of car fetish thing, do it somewhere secluded. There are plenty of secluded places in Kochi where you can do your thing, or try doing it at night. Or, if you actually want people to see it, use a less-tinted car next time.

I don’t blame him, though. We all have our weird fetishes. Anyway, guys, suggest some secluded places in Kochi where he can do his thing. Might help a soul in need...

Oh and there is a woman

Yeah

A woman

Who I love

And I got close

She came to my life like fucking butterfly,

So calm, so poised and made my heart fly.

I believed every word came out of her,

And saw a future not so blur.

She said she's happy that she found her missing piece,

And believing it I found in her my peace.

Everything was smooth, warm and free from any harm,

Not even in my wildest dreams I saw it's a calm before the storm.

Right when I had my eyes on our road ahead,

The future I had written slowly faded instead.

Then fate brought back the shadow of her past, her not so forgotten ex,

She left me with a smile, just like that, hacking my heart with an axe.

Two weeks had passed, yet she found her way to me,

We talked for hours, pretending what could never be.

I knew she wasn’t mine, yet my heart ignored the ache,

For three short days we lived a love that shouldn’t wake.

She whispered, “No matter how hard he tries, he can't make me as wet as you do.”

I wore those words like victory, yet guilt within me grew.

I couldn’t tell if I should be proud or filled with shame,

For loving someone else’s love made me part of the blame.

So I put an end to this beautiful charade,

Before what little good was left completely decayed.

She went back to him with a promise she’d confess one day,

And I watched the last piece of my heart quietly walk away.

If you're not here to stay, don't knock on someone's door,

And if you're not over your past, don't ask them to love once more.

She left me for the past she could never outgrow,

She left me, a poet, with pain only my poems know.

Have you ever wondered why some people enter our lives only to leave when they've become a part of it?

I have.

I wasn't looking for love.

Life was quiet. I was simply existing, going through my days without expecting anyone to change them.

And then, one random conversation became another.

Another became hours.

Hours became habits.

It's strange how strangers become routines.

She wasn't the kind of person the world would stop and stare at.

But she became the kind of person I couldn't stop looking forward to talking to.

Somewhere between our conversations, I realized I wasn't looking for perfection.

I was looking for peace.

And somehow, she felt like home before I even knew her address.

It was never about grand gestures.

It was the little things.

Talking until three or four in the morning because neither of us wanted to say goodbye.Watching movies together from different places, pretending the distance didn't exist.Asking each other what we ate, how our day went, what color the curtains in our future apartment should be.

She made me save Instagram collections.

Places to go.

Things to buy.

Things to eat (apart from her)

Things to do.

And my favorite one...

Our wedding.

She even saved her address on my food delivery app as "Wife's House."

It sounds silly now.

Back then...

It sounded like forever.

I told my parents about her.

My relatives knew her name.

We weren't just planning dates.

We were planning a life.

She told me she'd move to my city.

We'd rent a small apartment together, she said.

Nothing extravagant.

Just a place we could call ours.

And somehow, that little apartment became the biggest dream I'd ever had.

We spent nights looking at houses online, wondering which one we'd choose.

We talked about the furniture we'd buy, the things we'd need for our kitchen, the places we'd explore on weekends, the restaurants we want to try.

Somewhere along the way, those conversations stopped feeling like dreams.

They started feeling like memories waiting to happen.

It's strange how the future can begin to feel like a memory before it even happens.

I wrote poems for her.

She would read them and smile.

She'd tell me she was happy.

That I was everything she'd hoped for.

And somewhere between those late-night calls and ordinary conversations...

I stopped imagining a future.

I started expecting one.

Then one evening...

Her past called.

Literally.

Her ex.

A name that appeared on her screen through the only place left where he wasn't blocked.

She didn't answer.

At least... not at first.

She stayed on the call with me.

But something changed.

I've never been able to explain it.

It was as if someone reached into her heart and flipped a switch.

One moment she was laughing with me.

The next...

"I don't think this will work."

"I haven't moved on."

Just like that.

The future we had spent months building folded into a single sentence.

Some dreams don't shatter.

They simply disappear.

I kept asking why.

Before the questions found their answers...

The call ended.

Silence answered instead.

Hours later she sent me screenshots.

He wasn't apologizing.

He wasn't asking for another chance.

He was hurting her with words no one deserves to hear. He was abusing her, calling her a w\*ore and many other sexual things I can't type here

I remember thinking,

"She's already fighting one battle. She doesn't need another."

So I gave her space.

I waited.

When she finally replied...

She told me she still loved him.

She wanted him.

Not me.

I asked her not to decide so quickly.

Not because I wanted to win.

But because I couldn't understand how months could disappear in minutes.

She simply said...

She didn't want me in her life anymore.

She wanted to go back to him.

Even if he never came back to her.

I remember asking her something I'll probably never forget.

"He was your past. I was your present. After everything he said to you... shouldn't I be the one who's angry?"

She asked,

"Do you want to be?"

I said,

"No... because I'm not him."

That was the moment I realized...

Love and self-respect sometimes stand on opposite sides of the same road.

I wanted to fight for her.

But I couldn't beg someone to choose me.

So...

I let her go.

We never spoke again.

What hurts isn't that she left.

It's how quickly she left.

I had to delete those Instagram collections.

Places to go.

Things to buy.

Our wedding.

It's strange how deleting a few saved posts can feel like burying an entire future.

Sometimes I still catch myself looking at apartments online.

Sometimes I still see something and think,

"She would've loved this."

Old habits take time to forget.

Maybe that's what heartbreak really is.

Not losing a person.

But slowly meeting all the versions of your future that will never exist.

People often ask why God brings certain people into our lives if they're only meant to leave.

Maybe some people aren't sent to stay.

Maybe they're sent to show us just how deeply we're capable of loving.

And maybe that's the cruelest part.

Because even after they're gone...

A part of you still lives in the home you built together...

A home that only ever existed in dreams.

Have you ever wondered why some people enter our lives only to leave when they've become a part of it?

I have.

I wasn't looking for love.

Life was quiet. I was simply existing, going through my days without expecting anyone to change them.

And then, one random conversation became another.

Another became hours.

Hours became habits.

It's strange how strangers become routines.

She wasn't the kind of person the world would stop and stare at.

But she became the kind of person I couldn't stop looking forward to talking to.

Somewhere between our conversations, I realized I wasn't looking for perfection.

I was looking for peace.

And somehow, she felt like home before I even knew her address.

It was never about grand gestures.

It was the little things.

Talking until three or four in the morning because neither of us wanted to say goodbye.Watching movies together from different places, pretending the distance didn't exist.Asking each other what we ate, how our day went, what color the curtains in our future apartment should be.

She made me save Instagram collections.

Places to go.

Things to buy.

Things to eat (apart from her)

Things to do.

And my favorite one...

Our wedding.

She even saved her address on my food delivery app as "Wife's House."

It sounds silly now.

Back then...

It sounded like forever.

I told my parents about her.

My relatives knew her name.

We weren't just planning dates.

We were planning a life.

She told me she'd move to my city.

We'd rent a small apartment together, she said.

Nothing extravagant.

Just a place we could call ours.

And somehow, that little apartment became the biggest dream I'd ever had.

We spent nights looking at houses online, wondering which one we'd choose.

We talked about the furniture we'd buy, the things we'd need for our kitchen, the places we'd explore on weekends, the restaurants we want to try.

Somewhere along the way, those conversations stopped feeling like dreams.

They started feeling like memories waiting to happen.

It's strange how the future can begin to feel like a memory before it even happens.

I wrote poems for her.

She would read them and smile.

She'd tell me she was happy.

That I was everything she'd hoped for.

And somewhere between those late-night calls and ordinary conversations...

I stopped imagining a future.

I started expecting one.

Then one evening...

Her past called.

Literally.

Her ex.

A name that appeared on her screen through the only place left where he wasn't blocked.

She didn't answer.

At least... not at first.

She stayed on the call with me.

But something changed.

I've never been able to explain it.

It was as if someone reached into her heart and flipped a switch.

One moment she was laughing with me.

The next...

"I don't think this will work."

"I haven't moved on."

Just like that.

The future we had spent months building folded into a single sentence.

Some dreams don't shatter.

They simply disappear.

I kept asking why.

Before the questions found their answers...

The call ended.

Silence answered instead.

Hours later she sent me screenshots.

He wasn't apologizing.

He wasn't asking for another chance.

He was hurting her with words no one deserves to hear. He was abusing her, calling her a w*ore and many other sexual things I can't type here

I remember thinking,

"She's already fighting one battle. She doesn't need another."

So I gave her space.

I waited.

When she finally replied...

She told me she still loved him.

She wanted him.

Not me.

I asked her not to decide so quickly.

Not because I wanted to win.

But because I couldn't understand how months could disappear in minutes.

She simply said...

She didn't want me in her life anymore.

She wanted to go back to him.

Even if he never came back to her.

I remember asking her something I'll probably never forget.

"He was your past. I was your present. After everything he said to you... shouldn't I be the one who's angry?"

She asked,

"Do you want to be?"

I said,

"No... because I'm not him."

That was the moment I realized...

Love and self-respect sometimes stand on opposite sides of the same road.

I wanted to fight for her.

But I couldn't beg someone to choose me.

So...

I let her go.

We never spoke again.

What hurts isn't that she left.

It's how quickly she left.

I had to delete those Instagram collections.

Places to go.

Things to buy.

Our wedding.

It's strange how deleting a few saved posts can feel like burying an entire future.

Sometimes I still catch myself looking at apartments online.

Sometimes I still see something and think,

"She would've loved this."

Old habits take time to forget.

Maybe that's what heartbreak really is.

Not losing a person.

But slowly meeting all the versions of your future that will never exist.

People often ask why God brings certain people into our lives if they're only meant to leave.

Maybe some people aren't sent to stay.

Maybe they're sent to show us just how deeply we're capable of loving.

And maybe that's the cruelest part.

Because even after they're gone...

A part of you still lives in the home you built together...

A home that only ever existed in dreams.