He sat there. His eyes, fixated on the hookah but I could tell from his face that he was in drowning. Drowning in the ocean of emotions. I could tell he had no life inside, and at the same time, he was happy with the emptiness. I couldn't stop wondering. The wrinkles on his face reflected years of work and misery, a life he lived but didn't care about. He looked like a man with dripping irony and overflowing thoughts, mixing up with the atmosphere like the smoke. It suffocated him but it made him feel complete. Isn't it true? Everything that makes us hollow, completes us in a way. And maybe, he was complete this way.

Y. The letter with piercing beauty and pain. The letter which beholds a million emotions, lethal mixture of pain and plain. Y is the wishbone, a chance for every prayer to come true. Y is the crossroad where the journey together ends and misery together starts. Y is empty glass of wine which we fill repeatedly, in order to fill our empty soul. Y is the question we ask over and over again. Y.

How?

I don't understand how do you expect me to look at you with her and smile. How do you expect me to just cross your path and not ignore you, knowing that I'll cry later.

Why?

Why do you wanna keep me close when I'm not enough for you? Why do you wanna kiss my tears away, when you have no right to. Ironically, you wanna wipe the tears you gave me.

What?

What do you expect me to do? Be a substitute when she's working? Undergo the feels of a relationship which has no tag, but all drama?

When?

When will you understand that I'm not enough, I'm way too much for you? When will you let go the strings and let me cry, in vain and pain, break and know what I want? How will you stop when you love me too? How will you let go, when you're clutching tight too? If I had a choice, it would always be you.

I sink. I sink in the night with a thought, I knew would kill.

I think I felt, your lips on my eyes, the ghost of a touch which haunts every night.

I realise I know, the feeling will get bolder. And the hallucinations, stronger.

It's me and you after all, the deadly, lethal two. know, Fighting the same war, with different reasons.

At the back of my mind you were never a dream, but my strongest desire.

You were never a stream of emotions, but high flames of fire. 

You were everything, and nothing at all. A breathing irony, Which I loved, that's all.