I think… I think that the world is a callous crowd of wild emotions. It is a kaleidoscope of pulsating beats and noises with silent screams; it is full of wonder and made up realities mixed all together.
It is a big cloud of smoke that blurs your vision and you just get lost in the moment. You try to clear your vision but you are just going around in circles and nothing is making an iota of sense.
There’s a moment when you grasp a sense of what’s going on but you are breathless and slowly you are losing consciousness.
But as soon as the dust settles in and you start getting a clearer picture of what it really is, you realize that nothing is really complicated, that the complications are born out of senseless questions — of problems that shouldn’t even be there in the first place.
I think a part of me knows that it’s never going to stop and I will always be in a state of battle and I don’t know how dominant that part can be.
I think… I think that there will always be a part of me that will thirst for affection and time and attention, but I also think that no matter how much I crave, distance will reap off your physical being and reality will tell us that this can never be — that we will never be.
At night, when the rain starts to pour and pound my window in slow cadence and the wind howls the pain I am keeping inside, I ask myself why we even met.
I wonder why our paths even crossed when we are not meant to be together, here, on the same page, to feel what it feels like to be in a Lang Leav poem of two lovers meeting under tapestry of stars. It makes me question destiny and how unfair it can be.
I wish dating could be like two old souls meeting in an unexpected way, in a coffee shop or on the road. I wish love could be a pot of sensible conversations about life, dreams, and everything in between.
I wish it could be like Samson and Delilah, exchanging love letters sealed with a kiss. I wish we could stay up late and talk about why you like me despite the red flags, and why I know I should keep my distance despite the green flags.
There is a line to a Taylor Swift digital booklet that I have always related to, and it got stuck in my head the very first time I read it. The line reads: “We are never out of the woods because we will always have something to fight for.”
Is that why we are in this pool of question marks instead of periods?
Are we fighting what we are feeling instead of going for it?
Are we fighting against the tide that washed the both of us in this, instead of taking a plunge?
Are we always going to go around the woods, or are we going to be brave enough to find the way out — to find the way to each other’s arms?
How I wish catching feelings meant two souls being dragged closer, together, to be in the now.
I wish it meant two separate roads meeting at the fork, to be rejoined by the same soil that once tore them apart.
I wish it meant singing the same chorus to a song, reading the same line of a poem, watching the waters crash senselessly on the shore with longing.
I wish catching feelings was feeling your presence now and not your absence.
I wish to feel you here, to be reminded that you are love’s expression of intimacy, and not just an indication of it.