“For every drop of water you waste, you must know that somewhere on earth someone is desperately looking for a drop of water!”

― Mehmet Murat Ildan

The barrel could carry as much water as it could fit, not a drop more, so I might have been the same, with all the love I carried in my heart. Love and water were two vital resources, and unfortunately, neither of them was renewable. Every time I wasted some water, someone else might have craved at least the last drop of it. I carried them as long as the barrel remained sturdy, but once it broke, I didn’t have any source of it except longing for love and waiting for the mornings to collect some dew. I thought back then that if I had something, it would last forever, and my belief in things that couldn’t happen to me was often exaggerated. Nothing lasted forever, and everything was in constant motion around me, even though it didn’t seem that way, and even rocks changed their form and shape. What made me think I was immortal and irreplaceable? I clung to every drop of water in precious tears that I was afraid to release, and I suppressed the flow of love. Let me tell you something that I saw, that all rocks, one day, eroded and vanished, and what should have followed their natural journey was to set them free because water ran and love flowed freely.

“Never desire too much! Because of this excess greed and thirst, a person commits all kinds of sins.”

― Srinivas Mishra

I wanted more than I could carry, I worried more than was necessary, and with every excess of desire, it became soaked and heavy. I wished for more than I already had because I thought the grass was greener on the other side, only to realize it was artificial. I dreamt more than I slept, and reality became misunderstood. I forgot my promises and ignored the vows in front of desire, and due to excessive passionate thirst, I left behind a garden for a single flower. There was always a longing for what I didn’t have in my hands, and I believed that without witnesses, my sins would be forgotten. I spoke more than I acted, and I took on more than I could celebrate. The thirst for having excess in everything left me with less time to focus on more important aspects of my life. I thirsted for love, but I wasted it on broken hearts. I thirsted for money, but I squandered it on non-recyclable objects. I thirsted for accomplishments, but I sacrificed my health and sanity. Desire proved to be a large gulp of illusion, concealing true intentions and creeping into my life with passions and betrayals.

“I love like I’m thirsty. Can I offer you a tall glass of Sahara sand?”

― Dark Jar Tin Zoo

There was water everywhere, I just had to look in the right place; the same applied to love. I dug in various places, but all I found was dry dirt. I loved different people, but all I received were dry feelings that were only watered with my tears. I tried to keep it moist with the drops from my forehead, struggling to hold on and keep it alive. But you can’t squeeze a rock and expect to extract life from it. I encountered many puddles and thought they held the water I was seeking, but they only became muddier and made it difficult to breathe and remain there. I couldn’t dig any further, as I grew weaker from all the battles and struggles. I couldn’t linger in the swamps anymore, as they could drag me to the bottom. So I simply waited for sunrise to come and taste a few drops of dew… which were not enough to quench my thirst and desires. Today, if someone were to ask me for a cup of water, all that remains from what I had is a glass of sand, serving as a reminder that there was once more to my dry and thirsty soul.

“I wish I had water. I wish I had something to read.”

― Samantha Schutz

I searched so much for water and for love, and when I couldn’t do that anymore, I wanted to stop and look for something else, something much easier to attain. I would accept a cup of water, but when it came to love, I would simply say “pass.” I preferred to seek stories of others in books and live through them what was not lust, but love. From dreams to books, the transformation was merely a shift from the abstract to the physical, from thoughts to words on paper. But the essence remained the same, even if many couldn’t see it. I hid in other activities, diving into deeper waters, holding my breath and concealing myself at the bottom. I no longer asked questions, nor did I wait for answers. I poured from my empty cup, took it as a remedy, and swallowed it with cold water.

– Just let me drink my water and read my books because love is not a part of the solution that, mixed with lust, turns bitter.

-You told me that you cared about me, and it was good for us, but you knew I wanted more. You told me that the secret was to live in the moment, but you knew I wanted more. Imagine, babe, how it would be if I ran away from you. If we weren’t together, what would you gain? Would your life be better without me? Perhaps you would regret not holding my hand when I was yours, solely yours. Maybe you believed that love doesn’t die, regardless of how many mistakes we make. We don’t feel love in just three words, and I’m not even listening to them. Whatever you tell me, you know it’s not enough if you want me. I don’t want to live in a clandestine love affair, so think about it carefully. My thirst weighs as heavy as my heart, so let’s sit, take a drink, and tell me, what is a drop of dew when we are as thirsty as an ocean?

“Someone feeling wronged is like someone feeling thirsty. Don’t tell them they aren’t. Sit with them and have a drink.”

― Lemony Snicket

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