it wasn’t what i expected

The greatest tragedy is not that we search for love;
it is that we expect it to quiet the chaos within us. I used to believe that love would bring peace.

That once you found the right person, the war inside you would surrender.

It never happened that way.

Love does not silence the heart. If anything, it teaches it new ways to be afraid.

Afraid of loss. Afraid of time. Afraid of being yourself.

Afraid that something so beautiful could disappear without asking permission.

I watched two birds settle on a telephone wire. I have also watched old couples sit together without speaking. The world continued beneath them.

They said nothing.

They had learned that being understood is quieter than being admired. The wind carried yesterday somewhere neither the birds nor the old couple would ever see again, yet they remained.

Perhaps peace has never been the absence of noise.
Perhaps it has always been the decision not to become part of it. Like the moon, which never competes with the stars. Maybe we spend our lives searching for extraordinary love.

The kind poets write about. The kind history remembers.

But maybe love was never meant to be remembered. Maybe it was meant to be lived quietly. In making tea for someone before they ask.

There is a strange tragedy in modern life. We know how to reach anyone in the world. However, we struggle to sit beside the people we love without reaching for our phones.

We have mistaken attention for affection.
We have mistaken performance for intimacy.
We have mistaken being seen for being known.

Perhaps that is why peace feels so distant.
Perhaps the world has not become louder at all.
Perhaps our hearts have forgotten how to listen to one another.

As the sky became softer. The sun disappeared without demanding applause. The moon shone upon me. I stare at the moon, under its naked gaze. It asks nothing of me. It simply remains. Maybe that is what love was always reaching for. Not possession nor certainty.

Only courage to remain,
even as the world keeps moving beneath our feet.

- Roy Multan