It’s 12 AM And I Found Myself Writing About You Because I Can’t Tell You How I Feel

When was the last time you felt there were butterflies in your stomach?

The excitement of a child finally getting a new toy, is the kind of emotion that I’ve been trying to balance within me these past few days. I don’t know if this is real. I don’t even know if I should accept it that I’ve finally got this feeling again after a long time.

But the moment our eyes met, I knew that was it. I’m smitten. The endearing gestures you make around me just made it all worse. Because you came at the moment when I thought I’d never welcome these fluttering butterflies in my stomach again. With that, you made me feel that it is possible to reawaken something that has died and withered inside me for so long.

I never thought that I’d ever been able to have these feelings again. I don’t even want to believe it but every time our skin touches, it becomes harder to let the friction slide. Whenever you lean too much and I get a high definition view of your face, it becomes harder for me to hold back and not grab you by the collar to pull you into a kiss.

In my mind, I beg you not to come closer. In my head, I reject the idea of me getting used to your scent, to your voice, to your smile, to your welcoming vibe, to all the good things about you, because I know that when the times comes that I give in to this, there is no turning back. I wasn’t ready to become the person I once became back then. I even think I was too broken to be capable of feeling all these wonderful things again. I feel like I don’t deserve it.

But why do I find myself smiling at the thought of you in the middle of the day?

Why do I get weak in the knees whenever I hear your gentle voice as you speak and try to unravel the secrets I keep?

Why do I find my heart opening up to you when you render me speechless all the time?

Most importantly, why does the thought of you keep me up at night, causing me to pen every little thing I admire about you?

And for years, I wrote about this guy whom I thought was my forever person. I was stuck, I was hopeless, I was torn into pieces, but now I am writing about you. My personal essays are always angsty, always sad, full of loneliness and misery, but now I try to change that by writing about the beauty of you. Something that helps me feel at ease instead of just letting it all out for the sake of unloading the pain that has filled my heart. I can’t even comprehend how the thought of just writing the plain 10-things-I-like-about-you-post makes me smile.

Heck, I’m not the cheesy-poet type but you made all these possible without even trying.

My hands might be cold as I write this, but the mere thought of you as I weave these words and finally bring coherence into my thoughts gives me warmth and comfort. There’s something about admiring you silently that makes breathing easy in this world full of troubles. There’s something about the way you speak to me that melts my heart. Even the sound of your voice has the power to break the walls I’ve built for years to guard myself.

You might not even notice but your mere presence empties my head from all the stress and fills it with only pleasant thoughts. Suddenly, all the love songs I listen to were about you, even if they were from another language and all I understood was the rhythm and the tone.

But I came to realize that once you feel this way towards someone, it isn’t that hard to appreciate a song. The sound I hear is enough to remind me of that person. Just like how I knew all too well the kind of rhythm our hearts beat when we’re seated together silently. Although my heart is always racing when it’s looking for you, the tempo slows down when I’m finally with you.

There are moments I miss you. But seeing you gives me the kind of satisfaction one gets from just admiring someone from afar, or even as close as arm’s length, or even closer by an inch. Having experienced long-distance love back then, I knew it’s the kind of fulfillment you get from just knowing that the person you cherish is near you. You’re given the chance to see him often than what went through your previous relationship—barely seeing the person you want to be with.

Back then, all the heartaches, all the pleading, all the arguments, and all the efforts weren’t enough to keep me and the person together. Too much was done, but it was never enough.

But now, with less—with just the fleeting moment of admiring your face and with the little conversation we share—everything was enough to make me fall.

I won’t ask for more, though. I just want to enjoy having this tiny crush on you. Why you may ask. It’s because I knew this kind of feeling is pure.

There’s something about feeling the butterflies again that signals a new beginning. It’s like the season of Spring that leaves everyone in awe as the flowers bloom. The thing is, I’m afraid to go beyond Spring and let this feeling die like how leaves fall in Autumn. But there’s a part of me that is willing to go through all the seasons, to get to know you better.

For now, I only get the fluttering butterflies, but I still haven’t found the guts to tell you this.