They say for as long as there’s life there’s hope but what is hope when this hope is vain ?
Death isn’t the only host that ushers in finality , unreciprocated love does so as well.
You can never know finality like a lover with a heart full of love who knows this love will never be reciprocated.
There’s nothing like lying beside someone, watching them sleep, draw breaths in and out, hoping and feigning but knowing…
Knowing that “ko si oro n’be rara”.
So close and yet so far. Watching the desired land but like Moses, being unable to cross into it.
It’s a terrible feeling. To be alive and know that even as there’s life, the bitterness of finality exists right within the borders of life & existence.