Your soul feels so much like home, and when I met you, I finally understood what they mean when they say, ‘Not all who wander are lost’.
For I always find myself wandering back in your arms.
I dreamt of him last night and he asked me, “What’s your biggest mistake?”
I reached for his hands, but I woke up before I could answer him. And even though I knew he couldn’t hear me then, I still said it aloud, “You. Losing you. It will always be you.”
//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #32
It hurts, isn’t it? To receive from someone else the same love and attention you so much crave from him.
But that’s not what hurts the most.
To see him giving that same love and attention you want from him to someone else over and over again. To know that he’s fully capable to show you that love, but he just didn’t choose you, and he keep on not choosing you.
I think, that’s what hurts the most.
//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #31
The first time I looked at you, I didn’t see forever, more like unnecessary pains and broken hearts. And the second time our eyes met, I swear I’d hated you. You were the epitome of everything I hated in a guy, yet life has a funny way of making things right. I guess the universe really falls in love with stubborn hearts, and ours were the most stubborn of all.
It’s been nth times now of looking at you and I’ve already lost count, it turns out that you’re my happily ever after, after all.
We don’t have anything in common except for this feeling of our hearts beating as one, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s enough. If love itself is enough. If love itself is enough to make every of our wrongs right. If love itself is enough to pull us through.
I guess my only self consolation for not being able to write is, I’m actually happy. It’s easy to bleed words when you are sad, but when you’re happy, it’s kind of hard to stop and pick up a pen and write things down, because you’re busy living life, being happy, being grateful. And it’s kind of a really really good feeling, and I guess happiness is a lot more difficult to capture in paper. I don’t even have words to express it.
[congrats to me! i’m signing off for awhile]
Wouldn’t it be nice if there’s at least one person who can read your mind or hear your thoughts? I hope there is, at least for me. So that whatever happens to me, someone would know. And I wouldn’t be lost in this oceans of people, even for that one person’s mind.
//something I’d thought about years ago.