To Love the Mirage

In those 20 minutes lingering between life and death, my soul made a choice. It brought me back to the world — not to embrace a vibrant life, but to feel the pain of my shattered heart.

Even now, I remain caught in the wake of that decision. I am deeply conflicted, struggling with a reality I’ve spent months outrunning: I don’t fully understand why my soul chose to return, yet I am finally forced to face the truth: I am entirely fallen.

The Man Behind the Mask

My heart became genuinely invested in a relationship built over seven months. I loved him deeply — or rather, I loved the man he pretended to be.

I loved the paradox of his confidence and his shyness. I loved the mask he wore for the public, a mask so seamless that the world could never notice how it shielded a fragile, exhausted soul.

I admired the strength he showed the world, knowing now how drained he must have been by the effort of holding it all up. I loved the version of him that always knew what to say, never realizing how lonely it must have felt to be applauded by many, yet truly seen by none.I am still in love with that version of him. Perhaps that is my greatest mistake...

I am still in love with that version of him. Perhaps that is my greatest mistake...

The Ghost That Stays

I miss him so profoundly that no matter where I look or what I do, he is always with me — in my thoughts, in my breath, in every beat of my heart, in the very fabric of my daily existence.

He is and was the center of my universe. No matter where he goes, my heart follows, unable to find its way back to me.

I wish he could feel the weight of the passion I still carry. I have completely fallen in love with him: he won my heart and soul — he won it all — and I am simply the wreckage left behind, a casualty of my own surrender.

When the Body Keeps Score

Before those twenty minutes, I had decided to break up with life itself…

I have returned, yet the simple act of smiling feels impossible. My heart is weighed down by a raw, painful heaviness that makes every breath difficult. The simple pleasures of life have turned bitter; food tastes like ash, and even the thought of eating makes me queasy.

Sleep is no refuge — my dreams are cruel, merciless, filled with holding his hand, hugging him, kissing him, making love to him. Then I wake to a reality that feels more like punishment than a new beginning.

Life seems to be full of trials that test our inner strength and, more importantly, our devotion and love for one another…

The Nature of True Love and Devotion

True love, I believe, is boundless and immeasurable. It cannot be overcome by hardship; it is as natural as breathing and as unwavering as a heartbeat. With every threat to its existence, it grows stronger — refusing to give up and never surrendering.

No words can fully express the depth of my feelings. I have never loved anyone as deeply as I love him. Without him, the world feels empty — a muted, grayscale shadow of the vibrant life I once knew.

It feels like without him, life is meaningless and worthless…

My soul chose to come back because he was my reason for living, for breathing — and now that he’s gone silent, I’m forced to breathe on my own. His spirit held me from fading into the void or escaping the pain, leaving me to drown in sleepless nights and endless tears. He took my heart with him, and I still don’t know how to live without it.

Reflections on Loving Too Deeply — The Paradox We Cannot Escape

This is what happens when we love someone with our entire being — when they become not just a part of our life, but the very reason for our life. We risk losing ourselves completely when we lose them.

The cruelest irony is that the person we loved may have been performing a role all along, wearing a mask, hiding their true self behind carefully constructed confidence. We fall in love with the character they play, never knowing the real actor beneath — the one who was lonely even when surrounded by many and applauded by millions, fragile even when appearing strong.

And yet, even knowing this, the heart refuses to let go…

Because true love — the kind that consumes us entirely — doesn’t operate on logic or reason. It exists beyond the realm of choice. It flows through us like an instinct, as vital as breathing and as involuntary as the beating of our hearts.

When we love this deeply, we don’t simply miss the person when they’re gone; we suffer their erasure. They have become woven into the very fabric of our existence. Every thought circles back to them, and every moment is measured by the hollow space they left behind. The world loses its color, food loses its taste, and sleep becomes a battlefield where the ghost of their presence feels more real than the cold reality of waking life.

The Question That Haunts

The question that haunts me is not whether I should have loved less, but whether I can survive having loved so much.

Can we recover from giving everything — our heart, our soul, our very reason for breathing — to another person?

Can we learn to exist again when the center of our universe has disappeared?

I don’t have the answers yet; I’m still caught in the wake of the decision my soul made in those twenty minutes between life and death. I am still searching for why it chose to return to this pain.

Perhaps the answer isn’t found in understanding, but in the simple act of breathing — moment by moment — while carrying a love that refuses to release its grip, even when letting go would be easier

We are left with the ultimate paradox: how can the body continue to function when its reason for being has vanished?

Perhaps the answer lies in the same instinct that brought me back in those twenty minutes between worlds. We don’t continue because we want to, but because the soul has a terrifying, resilient will of its own.

We keep breathing simply because we must, waiting for the day when the food no longer tastes like ash, and the mirage finally fades into the horizon of who we used to be.