Purging

The Sunday before Thanksgiving.
One year ago today, I was launched into a spiritual cleansing journey. Without realizing, one by one I was forced to start purging my life of negativity.

It started with me cutting ties with two former close friends on November 19, 2017 after an argument left me feeling very hurt and violated of my respect. While they are still in my life, which is why I will not name them, I keep a distance and only talk to them when I see them.

These two girls made me feel bad for being who I am, an overenthusiastic girl. They teamed up and went to each other to talk about me instead of coming directly to me about whatever problem they had with me. But the biggest thing that really hurt me was this: they accused me of something and demanded an apology without even asking for my side of the story. What friend does that?

Anyone who knows me knows I'm generally a very fun person. I let things slide very easily, and it takes a lot to really upset me. But on that day, these two girls crossed way too many lines, and all at once, and I realized they weren't people I wanted in my life. I was angry. And I decided that I don't need that kind of negativity in my life, so I cut them off. In fact one of them went from best friend to stranger in a matter of a day.

I also became more intuitive from then on about what kind of people I knew I won't get along with. Last fall, I participated in an event called Jhankaar. While the event itself was great, the backstage drama in the weeks leading up to the event was very messy. I was with people I felt alone with. I was taken back to feelings I felt throughout most of my school life, the kind where you feel invisible or worse, unwanted, among a crowd of people laughing and smiling and seemingly nice but absolutely cold to you. I can say I made only one or two actual friends during that time. What's more, I knew my feelings weren't off the mark when I heard that people were actually talking about me behind my back. In fact, Jhankaar was such a bad experience for me last year that I concluded that most, if not all, Indians in the US are assholes.

Once more, I found myself feeling like I didn't have any friends at all. But that didn't last long.

In January 2018, I made a new friend, Lorena, who told me something I remember to this day and even tell other people. We were discussing something when she said, "Project your energy, and the people who reciprocate will come to you." I realized that what she was talking about can be applied to finding friends. I just have to be myself. Be unapologetically me. The right friends who reciprocate my energy will stick around. And they're the ones who are my real friends. The others don't matter!

And in the spring semester, I realized I had all the friends I needed in Japanese class. I suppose until I lost my two Indian former best friends, I never really made much of an effort to hang out with people here in college. Partly because I lived off campus, and partly because any free time I DID have I spent with either or both of those two girls.

But losing them meant I now had time to make an effort to connect with and make friends with people who went on to become my closest friends here. The people I have met in my Japanese class are a mix and match of all kinds of people who all somehow fit together in our love for Japanese and, let's be honest, utter weirdness. We're a tight-knit class who've survived the horrors and joys of studying Japanese together here at ASU. We show up 2 hours before class starts just to watch random videos on the projector, sing and dance, laugh, study and panic about our quizzes and exams.

Of the girls I made friends with, Angelica, Abbie and Karilee are the most notable. One of the things I will always be thankful to them for is how they helped me achieve body confidence. We constantly reassure each other of their beauty and how bomb their outfits are. We take photos for each other, sometimes insisting on it even if the person doesn't ask. We find locations and that fit the aesthetic and pose them and click away. And in the end we are left with pictures to post on our social media, usually Instagram.

By posting regularly in my insta story, I slowly came to believe that perhaps I am pretty. Perhaps I do look good, if only at least at the right angle and in the perfect lighting. But that gave me enough confidence. And that was important.

In July, I realized that I'm on a spiritual path to enlightenment. I talked to a psychic, and received two other messages through the universe, and I felt like I have a reason to work on myself. I didn't realize at the time that the purging had already began. So in order to help myself, I did some research on Quora and came across chakra meditation. Something inside me said it wouldn't hurt to try it, so I began doing chakra meditation in my sleep through chakra meditation music off YouTube that would play throughout the night. I started with a 3hr one that went through all the chakras every night, and then about a week and a half later, on a Monday, I decided to concentrate on one chakra each night and then play the 3hr video I was already listening to at the end. 7 chakras, 7 days of the week. I rarely miss a night of lulling myself to sleep to chakra healing/cleansing/awakening music.

Interestingly enough, while I didn't feel like much had changed, my friend Abbie told me at the start of the semester that I seemed much more put together. This was only a couple weeks since I started chakra meditation - less than a month, and it was already making a difference.

I felt the need to be able to channel the spiritual energy and receive advice when I needed it. I remembered back in June when I saw a deck of tarot cards in a book store and wanted to buy it, but didn't because I didn't have the money for it. I knew what tarot cards were thanks to a very close online friend Valerie in Germany. (Yes, I've never met her but I've known her for years and we are best friends.)

But I felt like now was the time to buy tarot cards. To my surprise, I found the very same tarot deck I saw in the bookstore in India on Amazon. The Sacred Indian Tarot, a  deck of 22 major arcana cards (so it's not a FULL tarot deck). And in the process of obtaining that deck, I ended up buying a deck of Ganesha Oracle cards, which arrived first - almost as if Ganapthi, who I am an ardent devotee of, wanted to give me his blessings by being the inauguration to my psychic beginnings.

Within two weeks, I also felt a very strong urge to buy the Rumi Oracle deck. It felt like the cards were calling to me, almost like there was an urgent message for me in the cards. Interestingly enough, the reviews for the deck on Amazon said that this deck will call to you when you are ready to receive the deep messages from it. I didn't intend to buy it immediately and was going to put off buying it for six months, since I am just beginning to read cards and I'm not a professional or anything so why would I need multiple decks? But one thing lead to another and I ended up buying it within two weeks of obtaining my first two decks.

I now do psychic readings both for myself as well as for friends, and I do the readings for free. The way I see it, I just want to be able to help people with the advice I give them through my readings. And people have told me they feel very calm and peaceful after I do readings for them. One friend, Mia, said she feels the strong positive energy radiating from my Ganesha Oracle cards. It's also uncanny and never ceases to amaze me when I'll be doing a reading and the cards I draw, even if they're all from different decks, seem connected and spot on when answering the questions I ask.

But I also mainly use my cards for personal, spiritual advice regarding my journey and my next steps. I definitely feel like I am being guided, like I have always been guided throughout my life. I am being steered toward something I am meant to do. Eventually, I will find myself exactly where I am meant to be.

Another constant negative influence in my life was someone I never realized would be one. Or at least I hoped so. Without going into detail, this was a person I have known for 2.5 years now, and someone I spent time with at least once a week for the past 2. But we never seemed to click and I always thought it was my fault, or that maybe she didn't want to be friends with me, or something like that. We had been having communication problems with something we were both working on together, and she finally decided to break away a couple weeks ago.

I didn't realize until recently that this tension between us was negative energy in both of our lives. As much as we both wanted it to work, it just wasn't happening. As she put it, we're both different people with different energies.

And this is important to mention here because I realized that not all good people are necessarily good influences in your life. That was the lesson here. Someone could be an absolutely wonderful person but still bring negativity in some way into your life.

So perhaps the two friends I lost this time last year actually are still good people. Perhaps this will help me forgive them, because I see that I need to work on that.

One year of purging. But I don't think I'm done yet.

The Secrets to Self Growth

This is a long one. And it's pretty heavy. Just know, if you are reading this, that I am not asking for pity. Or help. But if you can, I hope you can learn something from this.
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My poetry is not to make others cry. It is for the sole purpose of helping my own tears find a way through the maze of my mind and drop out on to my cheek. My release.

In our pursuit to seek validation from others, we must realize, or remember, that the one we are really seeking validation from is ourselves.

I spend each day trying to become someone I can be proud of. I put myself in situations that are nerve wracking, terrifying, just so I can prove that I can do it. Come to think of it, isn't that why I chose journalism in the first place? To force myself to learn to deal with my fears? To prove that I can do it?

I only recently realized that the person I've really been trying to prove myself to all this time was me.

Take yourself out of your comfort zone. That is how you grow.

For years now, I've been trying again and again to better myself. And I realized that over the years, I've changed. Little by little.

When I was in Bharathi Vidyalaya, I used to be quiet and didn't always feel like I had friends. I couldn't talk to boys even if I wanted to, cause I was really shy. I realized I can't do anything for myself if I can't even talk to people when I want to.

The people from BV will never pin me down as a person who was depressed. They always said, even after I left the school, that I was a girl who was always smiling, always laughing, always in my own world. For some reason, they admired that. Maybe they didn't know that I kept to myself, in my own dream world, because I was lonely. Because I didn't feel like there was anyone I could really talk to.

It's weird. I say I always had my best friend Sowmya to talk to. So why did I still feel lonely, even when I had her? Why did I still stay in my own dream world when I had Sowmya since 8th standard? I don't know. But the whole time I was in BV, I hid away half my personality. I never felt like I could fully be myself there. Maybe that's why I always stayed alone. Cause what can I do, who can I talk to, if I can't even be myself?

When I changed schools, I vowed to show my real self. My confidence in my talents improved. I could confidently show people a song or poem I wrote without fear of being judged. I became a little more able to talk to boys, though it was still easier chatting over text than in person.

When I left for college, I was still nervous about talking to strangers. I was nervous about making friends. I've always been the weird girl. I've tried owning it, calling myself eccentric, cause it seems like a cooler word than "weird". But that doesn't mean I can escape it. I got the award for "most enthusiastic" back in second grade. I like to think I've lived up to that title. That doesn't mean that everyone will accept me as I am. It doesn't mean people will stop talking about me behind my back.

"Why is this girl sooo excited?"

I started watching 13 Reasons Why recently. I've been binge watching it. Hannah Baker says in one of the episodes that it was a new her living the same old life. I could relate to that.

I thought changing schools meant being the new me. But pretty soon, I realized it's not easy to change. Change happens slowly, in little baby steps. That's why it has taken me years to get to this point, and I am still working at myself. Essay competitions, speech contests, showing friends my poetry, starting this blog, singing on the bus and then in school competitions, dancing, taking bio group in 11th and 12th standard, taking on journalism... Everything takes me one step, or a couple, out of my comfort zone. And every little thing has helped prove to other people - and myself - that I can do it, I can put myself out there. I'm capable.

Somewhere along the lines, I changed. Not completely as a person, but more like an updated or newly improved me. The first time I realized this was when I went back to BV for the science expo in February 2015. I met some of my old classmates. Aishwarya and Neha, two of the class toppers who I always looked up to, tried to catch up to, wouldn't talk to me much that day. I asked what happened. They said nothing, that I've changed.

I don't know if building self confidence counts as a complete change. I wasn't even done changing at that time. It was only the beginning. But already, just having the confidence to be myself, my whole self, not hide anything or be afraid or shy, seemed to have an effect.

And I was okay with it. I told them I never changed. They were just seeing a side of me I had never showed them before. In retrospect, I don't know what about my behavior was so different that day. In retrospect, I think I was pretty normal. I was just talking to people, wasn't I? Old friends. I can't remember if it was in any way drastically different from how I'd always interacted with people, before I switched schools. Or maybe it wasn't in my behavior, but in my aura. The energy I broadcasted then was slightly different from what it used to be, maybe. I was happy. Happier than I'd been in BV.

This time when I went back to India, two people noticed a change in me. The first was an aunty who barely knows me, but encouraged me to pursue journalism when I was in 12th grade when my mother expressed doubts. One look at me and she said I studied journalism and became stronger. That I studied the course I liked and became very strong.

How did she know? What did she see? The possible explanation came later, when a friend texted me that my posture has changed. That they noticed it when we met up for the first time since school ended. I was taken by surprise - this was something even my best friend didn't point out. It was something I myself didn't realize.

Perhaps then, I realized, low self esteem makes a person slouch a bit. I always slouched a bit to try to hide away, or at least hide my fat. But confidence? Not just body confidence, but self esteem as well? It has a physical effect on the body. So somewhere along the line, I started sitting straighter, standing taller. The friend saw the change and said I grew up. The aunty saw it and saw strength.

And this is important, because this is when I realized just how far I have come on this journey of self growth I started all those years ago. And confidence? It changes the energy you radiate. 

I think 13 Reasons Why is having an effect on me. It is making me type all this out. It is not easy to come to terms with and make sense of the past. I don't think it's meant to be. But writing? It helps me. It always has.

I am not writing this just for you, the reader. I am writing this for me. But at the same time, I am hoping someone reads this and finds it helpful for them.

So why stop here? Let's go a little further.

Last semester was not easy for me.  I had multiple breakdowns. Multiple. Despite the improvements I've made, despite being sure I overcame the depression I never realized I had until I was over it, the darkness still comes back. For a while now, maybe a few years, I have been feeling like I am not enough. Not smart enough. Not pretty enough. Not normal enough. Not funny enough. Not lucky enough. Not hard working enough. Not enough. Period.

People always tell em they admire how much I am doing in college, how many things I am involved in outside of classes. But to me, I feel like what I am doing doesn't even scratch the surface of what all I could actually be doing. I feel like I am doing nothing. That's what it's like to feel like you're not doing enough.

And so when I was nominated for a Barrett Gold Standard award in the innovation category, it meant the world to me. Part of me knew though that this was because I am lucky enough to have a wonderful supervisor, Nicole, who thought of me and thought to nominate me for an award. I don't think I could have gotten that nomination, that recognition, otherwise.

I didn't expect to win. I kept telling myself that just the nomination was more than enough. But on the way home that evening, I broke down in Nicole's car. I cried. And she cried too.

And at that time she told me something I want to share with you all. It goes hand in hand with everything else in the journey of self growth.

It's called believing in yourself. As hard as it is, you have to believe in yourself.

I told Nicole it's hard to believe in myself when everything feels so hopeless. And she told me a story about how someone once told her something that she then told me, which I will now tell you.

You are better than you think you are.

Those are the words. The magic words Nicole said to me that day. It means that even if you don't believe in yourself, there are people out there who do, and people out there who see you for more than you yourself do. It makes sense to me, because on three occasions so far in my life, I have had people contact me to say I inspired them. It blew me away. There are people out there who watch you and see all that you really are and feel inspiration. How many lives could I have unknowingly influenced? People are watching. I am a role model. I am a role model because they look up to me, because they see me in a brighter light than I see myself in. You just have to believe it. You just have to keep telling yourself that. I'm still working on it myself, but these words have meant so much to me. So I wrote them here in case you, the reader, is in need of hearing it too.

You are better than you think you are. Repeat it to yourself until you believe it. Keep pushing yourself out of your comfort zone.

But have limits. Just because you should take yourself out of your comfort zone doesn't mean you should do things you don't think feel right. For me, that means I'm not going to try alcohol. Or casual dating. Or hookups or whatever. Or go to parties past 10 or 11 p.m. or just any party with alcohol and boys (because drunk boys can be dangerous for someone with zero physical strength like me). Or do anything that doesn't feel right for me. Those are my ideals - doesn't mean you should follow them too. I mean do things you think will improve you in the direction you want to go, without regrets, but don't go too far into territory you are more than uncomfortable, that you feel wrong or unsafe to be in. Keep yourself away from such situations.

On a related note, this also means cutting out negativity from your life. Earlier, I mentioned that embracing my weirdness and calling it eccentric doesn't mean that people will accept me for who I am. People will still talk behind my back. People will still make me feel lonely even in a crowded room. Just because you share the same ethnicity doesn't mean they will be your ally. Or your instant best friend. From my experience, I've learned that most Indians in the US are assholes. You have to get away from people like that. No matter how many chances you may want to give them to be your friend, they are not going to be your friends. They are going to use you and leave you, because that is the kind of person they are. They are negative energy. Find people who project the same energy you do. It might take a while, but you will find real friends who genuinely like hanging out  with you. Or look around, maybe they're already there and you haven't realized yet.

Do not waste your energy by projecting it toward people who don't reciprocate the same energy. Spend it on people who do. Cut out negativity from your life. If that means losing a couple people you initially thought were friends, go for it. Trust me, you will feel happier. Real friends don't just accuse you without asking for your side of the story first. Real friends apologize. If they don't, that's a surefire sign they're not going to be around when you really need them. It's best to distance yourself from people you know will let you down.

And if you find yourself ready to give up, take a break. Whether that means a quick anime episode or a whole day or weekend of being unproductive, do what you need to do to keep your sanity. Talk to a friend. It helps. A lot. Sometimes I think they're the only people truly capable of pushing me back on my feet when I hit rock bottom. Again and again.

Keep at it, my friend. As will I.

One day, I hope we can both look in the mirror and be proud of who we are.

Captivation

Scorpios and scorpions are two very different things. One is a zodiac sign; the other is a pesky thing that infests my house in the summer here in Arizona. 

(Once last October I found one in my bed. Freaked TF out. It was not fun.)

I wrote Captivation the morning of January 30, 2018. It's my first poem of the year, and the responses I've gotten from the handful of friends I've shown it to led me to want to publish it here on my blog. But before I published this poem, I needed to post the other stuff I had written before it that I wanted to post but wasn't ready to share until now.

So here it is.

Captivation

I can't put it into enough words
How I actually feel about you
You mean more than I myself
Can even understand

I can only hope that you
Can feel it through the way
My hands hold yours and
The look on my face

But no, in truth, even that's...
Not enough. It's almost nothing.
There's so much more I'm afraid
To release - this something.

Unlike you, I don't play with insects,
Let alone scorpions
This is the first time and I wish I knew
How to get close to you

I've hated scorpions - don't want them
In my house, in my room, on my bed,
But you're all the exceptions
You're different

You captivate me
But I know
It's dangerous to approach
To get close

But where is my common sense?
It's not every day I play with scorpions
Why do I keep approaching
Trying to win your trust, your love?

You raise your tail
Ready to sting
And I know I need to go
Slower

I wonder if it's perseverance
Or how far I've come
In this dangerous dance with you
That doesn't let me give up

You've stung me before
It wasn't fatal, but sometimes excruciating
But I back off for a while
And keep coming back

There's something captivating about you
A magnet, a spark, and something dark
I can't stop thinking about you
Not even for a day

I can only hope that these feelings
Are seen, felt, sensed, understood
So I may one day play with you
Without fear of getting hurt

For those who didn't get the Scorpio-scorpion play, go read up a bit on the Scorpio zodiac sign. It's molded on - you guessed it - scorpions.

Leave your thoughts in the comments! I'd be pleased to read your comments!

This is it for now - I don't have any more poems or short stories in storage to share with you guys, so until inspiration strikes again, keep well!

Reception Night

This is a short story set in the future. I wrote it on December 9, 2017. 

It's about a girl who attends the reception of her old classmate, the one with whom her love was unrequited. 

There may be some confusion in the middle because there's a flashback to the night she got the wedding invitation. Just a fair warning so that you don't get confused. 

RECEPTION NIGHT:

She sat on the outskirts, near the back of the hall, with a melancholic smile as the crowd slowly dwindled.
She sipped on her glass of champagne. She never favored alcoholic beverages, but tonight she was breaking all her rules. Well, she may have already broken them once before.
Her table was empty, save for herself and her purse - and a present. Atop the beautifully wrapped package, complete with a bow on top, was something even more important: a letter. Two letters, actually, contained in the same envelope. One for the bride, and one for the groom, of course.
From her seat, quite a distance from the dais, she watched him. The last she saw him in person was years ago. It was a miraculous, bittersweet moment when she received news of and an invitation to his wedding. Perhaps it was a show of courtesy on his part, to invite all his former classmates and not leave her out. Perhaps he knew she would find out soon enough, and would find a way to show up.
Perhaps, though, it was a show of mercy, by God's grace, for him to allow her to see him once before he's gone for good.
But that was the first time she broke all her rules and found solace with her wine glass in a corner of a pub. The girl who accompanied her friends on countless nights out, and stayed sober to look after her friends while they got wasted, needed to drown herself in the same alcohol she so strongly decried, and needed someone else to stay sober in her place.
It was then that she had decided to write.
A letter for each, short and sweet. Nothing anywhere near as long as the first letter she wrote out in a word document.
To him, she wrote she wished him happiness. She wrote she wished him love, success, and a sweet married life.
To her, she wrote a plea to take care of him, properly, and to love him and be patient with him. She wrote, words oozing with her love for him she wished the bride would shower on him in her place.
And tonight was the night she was to give those letters and the thoughtfully selected present she bought during her work and travels abroad in Japan.
She didn't know how she might react when went up to congratulate the couple whose lives will be joined together early the next morning. She didn't know if she'd smile or cry or be an awkward mix of both.
She took a deep breath and stood up.
She didn't know why she bothered to dress up tonight. But her hair was done, her makeup was flawless, her eyeliner on-point, perfect accessories, her dress accentuated her curves and her diets and workouts evident in her small proportions. As she made one high-heeled step at a time closer to the front of the hall, she wondered if perhaps in some dark corner of her mind she hoped - she hoped perhaps seeing her dolled-up, in person, after all those years, he would think twice, and perhaps she would linger in his thoughts for a while.
When she reached the front and climbed on to the dais, she smiled and congratulated the couple. A small corner of her heart twisted in pain as she glanced at him, searching for some hint of what he might have been thinking at the time. Till the end, she could never read him. Not even a little bit.
She snapped a photo - she made sure to give her best smile - and handed the couple their gift and letters. Congratulating them once more, she stole a final glance at him, and his beautiful eyes, before walking off the dais and taking her leave.
She wasn't hungry tonight. But she knew at last that he was finally gone for good. Her heart knew it, her soul knew it, and perhaps that is why it was a little more difficult to leave at last, biting back tears that threatened to ruin her eye makeup.
But she wished him happiness, from the bottom of her heart. She wished him the best and hoped his life is as happy with his bride as she had dreamed hers would be with him.
Perhaps now she could finally move on.

Never Enough

A break from the love poetry that I've written, but still another window into my life - my college life.

I wrote this poem on April 13, 2017. It shows the struggles with self-esteem, self-confidence, not feeling adequate enough, monetary issues at home, and a touch of - I daresay - jealousy.

NEVER ENOUGH

I admire those who achieve
Be it scholarships or higher GPAs
Or jobs or trips to other places
Or award-winning essays.

I've spent a great deal of my life
Aiming for the top
Only to be stopped each time
Because I was never enough.
My grades just above average,
My talents nothing special,
My efforts never enough,
And my luck forever dwindled.

I admire the overachievers -
Not envy or hatred, no -
Because had I found their secret path
I would've taken it to where they go.

They're out there doing things
That pay off in the end
While I sit here, each thing that I do
Amounting to nothing, and
While they're out there earning
Scholarships and grants,
I sit here worrying how I'll pay
For the semester around the bend.

I search for scholarships that aren't
Reserved for those disabled,
Or those from minority groups -
Or others with such labels.
I'm not a first gen student, no,
Nor do I qualify as an immigrant.
I haven't survived deadly diseases
And am not a STEM major.

I'm the general class, the middle class,
The class the least supported.
My situation was simply deemed
"Because of your parents' choices."
But is it a choice for my parents
To take care of my old grandmother?
So is it a choice that my parents must
Run two households together?

I admire the people who get awards
And achieve recognition.
I've yearned for it and worked for it
But resulting in a failed missions.

I'll always be right where I stand
Just above the line,
But never enough to be someone
Worth being recognized.


So it's been a long time since I wrote this. But I've found out that I can actually qualify as a "first generation" student since I'm the first in my family to go to college in the US. However, I have found ways to pay my college semester fees by working part-time jobs and getting paid internships. I've given up on applying for scholarships for paying my college tuition - but I want to save up money or get a scholarship to summer study abroad trip. I really want to go to Japan, honestly. I'm in my third consecutive semester of studying Japanese - at this point, Japan is not a want; it's a NEED! Someday, somehow... I have to go. Hope for the best! 

Meanwhile, I feel like I'm doing well enough in college in terms of learning new things and achieving, but it's still not enough. I still don't feel adequate enough, great enough, to call myself an honors student. But I'm going to keep working at it. Like they say, SHOOT FOR THE MOON - SO YOU'LL AT LEAST LAND AMONG THE STARS!

What Lovesick Fools Think

I wrote this poem way back in March 2017. I guess you could say that for a while I lost my inspiration to write poetry. I know I haven't posted since last year and it's been ages - but I've got a couple pieces to share with you all! 

Each poem I write is a window into my life, or my soul, or both. Remember that as you read this. 

What Lovesick Fools Think

You were special to me.
You had my heart.
You were different to me.
We shouldn't be apart.
Why do you want this?
That's all I ask.
Why can't you see me?
Is loving me such a task?
The day before Lover's Day,
You blocked me on WhatsApp.
I was shaking, I was crying -
But you wouldn't care about that.
A month went by
I didn't speak to you
Then I was shocked to discover
You blocked me on Facebook too.
It's strange. Now I have
A bittersweet ache inside
A longing to see you
On my social media sites.
It's strange as I combat
Loving you and moving on
And it's scary, honestly,
That suddenly you are gone.
Poof! You disappeared!
With a single move
You blocked me and now
I'm stuck missing you.
But I'm tired, my love.
I'm tired at last
Of you hurting me purposely
And me forgiving you too fast.
All I ever did was love you.
Not hate you, not neglect you,
Neither hurt you nor betray you.
Was it wrong to love you?
I look up at the stars tonight
And wonder if you are looking too.
But I already know the answer to that.
Only lovesick fools look at stars and think of you

My favorite lines in this entire poem are the last four. I look up at the stars and wonder if you're looking at them too - but only lovesick fools look at stars... and think of you.

*Side note: the my love is a substitute for a name.