I hope you know that you deserve better than that. You deserve someone who doesn’t rush love.
I will wait for you.
I don’t mind getting lost in your eyes— the way those black holes helplessly drag me into its realms.
It almost seems as though my lifeline is wired to it. My breathing capacity is measured by the amount of lives I touch with my words.
There is a girl I know who taught me about beauty. She stands in a crowded living room, in between sweaty bodies and blasting music— supposing, if she stands there just a tad bit longer, she’ll eventually morph into one of them.
I watch you love music like this— mildly yet so passionately. And I wonder if you could also ever love me like this— with a feather-like touch yet with the same burning passion of a storm.
So for the meantime, let me love you in all the ways I know how. In between all our imperfections. At the ends of all our infinities.
Love her deeply, immensely, and unforgettably.
I just want him to stay.
But most of all, you are my home.