In (and most probably) out of love

I did the sinful act of liking (read as a stronger emotion, reader discretion required) someone. Why was it a sin? Because that someone is just so much out of my league that associating with them for a moment needs heavenly luck, and here I was, thinking of a long association. Something like asking for a heaven-like life. That's a sin. Ain't it?

So goes the sin (narrative):
I see you the first time and pause for a moment, "pretty little
thing", I wonder and then move on. I mean we see pretty little things
all the time, don't we? Pune has like a zillion of them.

A pretty person interests everyone and that includes me. That said,
the interest doesn't last long, so did with me. But the more I got
to know you, the more you interested me, more and more and more,
all the time. So much so that your persona just became overwhelming.
You were there all the time, eyes open and eyes closed.

The first thought of each of my dawns, the last thought of each
of my dusk. You and you and you. Dreams were dreamlike with you in them.

I see a pretty girl somewhere and just shrug her off, saying "I
know someone prettier that her", prettier than anyone, prettier than everyone.

Experience a pleasing moment and wonder if you were there too, what
sublime moment in life that would be. This explains the "wish you
were here" thing at getting tipsy for tipsy times are among the
best moments for me. But that went wrong. You read it wrong and I let you do so too.

Ladies and gentlemen, the panic sets in. You are offended by the
very mention of the word 'together'. Sharing a happy moment with
the thought of you around is an offence, a sin, I'm told. That does it.

Then do I realise what a gross sin I was doing, thinking of a princess
and a piglet in the same picture. Holy mother of Christ, even Christ
can't afford that. What a fool.

Dream shattered, life wasted, time to disappear, ladies and gentlemen.
Time to dress in the cowardly attire, I wait for it to get dark and disappear.

Smoke fills the scene.

Happy times won't last long is a pessimist’s viewpoint. Happy times
don't last long, a pragmatist's.

But there must be more to life than seeking pure and selfish happiness.
Being sane is probably killing desires right ab initio.

The easiest way out, disappear. Think of it as a bad dream that
never happened. Cry a while, be a man, a new day will begin probably.

Probably it won't, who is to say?