It’s You

The gentle, calm breeze caressing my cheeks, briefly brush through my hair, and it makes me think of you. How your smile lights up like the sun rays always does in the morning. A soft glow without blinding the eyes, and I keep wondering how it would be like to catch a glimpse of your face first thing in the morning, just like how I did back then. Your dreamy eyes gazed blankly in thin air, and they told me you were daydreaming, and I wish I could be a part of it like how the branches of the tree were intact with its trunk, you were a part of my soul.

I want to write a sonnet to honor you, but I don’t know how to create notes on a music page, but words are the holiest things I know, and maybe a sonnet won’t be made by me to you; however, I will write what my feelings dictate me to write.

I push through all of my struggles, and all the nights where loneliness was the only companion I knew of, my feelings, tracing back to you and you weren’t there to hold me. I know the heart wants what it want and there’s no other way around it than to accept. I thought maybe a relationship was my only salvation, but it wasn’t, it was love that I craved for, the intimate of two souls shared, and the merging of it. Salvation came rushing through the gushed of my tears when I cried because the feeling of loneliness was so deep, like a void that I didn’t know how to fill.

The absence of you made it clear for me that I didn’t love myself as I suppose too, and like a rusty sword, I was being forged into a person I have dreamt of being. I didn’t lose my edge, neither do I feel like I lost myself, but the woman I have become was found in that void. With heartbreaks, one becomes wise, and the pain, even how intolerable, can’t keep me away from my desire to feel two hearts shared the same beat. I have scars to show for my braveness, and there are stories to tell from them.

I drank beers, and it tasted like parties, the old days where I used to be drunk but got sober quickly because of the worries of a teenager who looked for love but found only lonely souls who craved for sex instead of the intimacy of sharing thoughts and dreams. I danced to the music, with no curves of the body because it was slim, but it was soft enough to follow the beats of the song playing from the stereo. I got lost in the rhythm, and my worries evaporate like how the sun rays kissed away the dew in the morning, I freed myself moving to the music, and the dance floor was like a note page where I would write poem and poetry. I wasn’t fond of drunk nights and loud noises in a nightclub, and even how innocent the old days seemed to be, it was nothing but a nightmare once lived. Maybe I have become old, but all I want is a warm bed and stars that twinkle brightly in the night sky, I want a hand to hold and arms which would embrace me after a bad day. Even how disturbed it may sound, but I want fights, arguments, and discussions. I want to share my life with someone who knows I wouldn’t fight, but listening attentively to raised voice when they are upset — someone who knows that my heart is like a squishy toy, mushy and soft, and overall I want the passion that set my heart aflame. I crave lips red like cherry so I could kiss and be kissing back. I’m not just old by age, but my soul is aged old; I am an old soul living in a world where most are living with masks and secretly hide their feelings they yet have discovered are there. A world so chaotic, but has its order, but all I wanted was to get home to someone I love.
And that person,

is you.

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