I just want to love you

I guess that’s pretty much it. I know that it might sound a little confusing now because of all that’s between us, but what if, what if we’re really the perfect demise of ‘coincidence’?

We have destroyed coincidence with these stars swimming through our veins like drunk little lovers trying to find their other halves.

Have you ever imagined a life so predestined it couldn’t get any more right than this?

For all my days I have lived by the pleasures of working for the things that I want but this– us, I never asked for something like this, nor did I try to find a path that would lead me to where you are… or should I say, who you are.

Isn’t it odd as to how 7000 miles couldn’t keep you from wanting to touch me?

I know that you’re afraid and quite frankly, you have no idea as to how my internals burn into voidness every time you talk about this girl whom you’ll be meeting at Lyon in a few days.

You have no idea as to how much I long to appear right in front of your house yelling mispronounced words and faulty conjugations.

You have no idea as to how much I desire to wrap my arms around your neck whilst softly brushing my lips on your face trying to memorize every line, every curve, every crevice. You have no idea as to how much I would love to love you.

It must be easy.

It must be easy for those souls who were born lucky– lucky to have held the hands of their other half; lucky to have kissed the lips of who could possibly be their forever; lucky to have whispered the words “I love you” and receive “I love you too” in return.


But for something as peculiarly fated as we are, these things are far too hard to imagine that it’d be wiser to just walk away.

It’s hard to love someone who is not there, but it is much harder to love someone who mumbles the words “You’re beautiful” along with “I think it’s better if we don’t talk anymore”.

Distance made the line so thin. Its triggers? COUNTLESS.

Am I afraid?

Yes, but I try not to.

I try so hard to keep our heads above the water. I firmly believe that we can make it work.


We need to be patient. You need to be patient.

For I know that when you and I cross paths in reality wherein we’d breathe the same air and walk the same pavements, I swear that it would be worth it and it’d be the best time of our lives.

For even if we’re far apart from one another you have resided within the walls of my ribcage. I have made a home for you to take shelter to during the times of turbulence. You have me. You have always had.

And I try to make the entire ordeal as fair and as just as I could.

I never resent your decisions for wanting to feel the warmth of another girl for what good can jealousy do?

We all need a little love when we’re lonely and I am so sorry that I cannot be there for you physically, but it does not mean that I weep a little less.

I always ask distance whom I adore and hate so much.

Why be in between me and the person I crave to be with the most?

This is unfair for the children who were clothed with the ill-fated garments of predestination and fate (if those are even considerably rational).

All I know is that this is not purely coincidental.

This is going to mean so much more and it will appear clearer soon after I pack my bags and head west in the hopes of seeing your arms wide open for me.

For now, let us just embrace the pain of not being together.

Or was that an overstatement?
After all, I am the only one who openly claims my feelings for the boy whom I have yet to be with.

I miss you even when there’s nothing to miss.

I think I’m developing erotomania.


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