They say unrequited love has inspired some of the greatest works of art. I can tell. I feel poetic everytime I allow myself to go down that path. Ofcourse, down that path lie beautiful imaginations.and pain. and helplessness,anguish.  and whenever I come back, all that clusters and gels into a stream of melancholy that I carry everytime. and then when people look at me, they ask, why am I  tense.or why am I sad. or if I am not feeling well.

This phase has really tested me. I thought I knew all about myself. But thinking that I know and actually experiencing it are two concepts entirely different.