Ѱesting Deep Waters of Love

Preface to the following poem:
I was flipping through pages of my Psychological Testing textbook and was amused by the ability of the author to present real life events in terms of variables and quantities which he felt made sense after psychologists had done so.
I thought I'd try that on myself and penned my thoughts down in an attempt to make sense out of what seemed incoherent at the time.
(Simply to realise later on that I had only succeeded in putting those thoughts in a more complicated manner! )

Here it goes:

What is it that you're questioning?
Is it the validity of my feelings for you?
Or the norms I've set to be able to call it love?

Do you believe in the reliability of oral response?
Or is it my deception technique that you're really testing?

Somewhere along the scale I set for you, a discrepancy within the scores has arisen.
Do I look for the causal agents?
Or should I simply regard it as an insignificant error?

True, my sample for love has not been large & the norms I've set could do with a revision.

But honey, if you're doubtful about the reliability of 'us' lasting forever,
Then your future is doomed,
As there are no true predictors when it comes to love!

Today, I rekindled the dying flame inside of me.

I was feeling really low since the evening as i began to miss him,cried and blogged a short poem on that.
(Note to self : Catharsis doesn't really help.)
My hormonal fluctuation of the month joined in the party and started playing an evil joke on me by not  letting me come out of the sepia like mode I was in.

My assignments due for tomorrow have ended up being the collateral damage of this hormonal flood situation.

Meg happened to be going through an all time low as well.

Facebook chat soon turned into our venting platform.

She wrote more than i did. Well, cause she did have more worries and reasons to be in a state of  frusadion (frustration-sadness-confusion).

I was just there for her, writing what I felt needed to be written.

She bid me goodbye but soon added(in her own way) that I had made her feel better.

Strangely, i was not feeling down and about any longer.

I guess counselling is sort of like helping a friend.

Helping others is an antidote to help you overcome your own sadness.
That's the way i'm built.
I don't question it anymore.
I feel deeply for those who suffer injustice. I cry when i see sad documentaries or even short films about the sufferings borne by people in this world.
And I keep on racking my brains over projects that could help others in future or in present time.

But, i had stopped believing in change somewhere along the line.
I had started to focus so much on the problems that it had begun to feel like coming up with solutions would still not suffice.

Self belief is a tricky thing.

New day and unfinished assignments, hello-goodbye.

They tell us to go where love is.

But the way has closed down on me.

Since the day you left,
I've been waiting for the stars to fall,
Cause you were the light in my darkness.

I wake up in the middle of the night,
I realise, my someone is gone.
You're gone.

They say move on.
There is a world waiting.
Little do they know that I only see the crumbles of the World we had built together.

We said, forever.
But, you're gone.