You had such a... graceful presence. A gentle voice. Not a hint of toxicity in your behaviour or outlook on things. As if you've only seen the positive and not the negative in life/people.
I never got to know your history. Your story. But either you are REALLY good at masking unseen truths, or are just, that, level-headed and pure.
And I thought there had to be a catch with someone who looked that good.
“The sensitive suffer more, but also love more, dream more.”
Ahh, this perfectly explains the purity and indecision I see in you. You feel so much, and understandably are confused by what you feel. This is just how sensitivity works. Now I accept it.
I feel like if I had expressed my love for you before we would be together. The fleeting moment has passed now, though. I can’t say anything anymore. Nothing has the power to kill more than unexpressed love.
now i can tell her directly instead of only writing in secret. i love her so dearly, the kind of easy love i thought i'd never have. she makes me believe in soulmates
He sends me videos of him singing and playing music because he knows I’m crazy stressed out with finals. He reminds me how important I am, regardless of my grades. He listens to me go on and on about the graph theory and machine learning research projects I’m currently working on. He stays up until I finish my last assignment each night, even after working 12 hour days.
I don’t know what I did to deserve him but boy do I thank God for him every night
It’s Yearning time (:
I stare a little too long at every picture I see of him, the shape of his face etching itself into my mind. I want to touch him. Not sexually, really, just like, I want to hold his face in my hands. I want to trace my finger over his lips. I want to look him in the eyes but from really close up, like very much personal bubble, like count-your-eyelashes close, like feel-you-exhale-through-your-nose kind of close. I want to hold his hand, fingers intertwined, not so long that it’s sweaty, swinging our hands together in excitement. I want to hug him, I want to reach up and stand a bit on my toes (because he’s tall) and rest my chin on his shoulder while our arms are wrapped around each other.
Writing this makes me feel so incredibly pathetic and awkward, like a clumsy robot trying to understand physical affection. I can’t even think about wanting to kiss him. I haven’t kissed anyone before, my imagination isn’t strong enough to fill in the blanks. There’s just this dull ache, this wistfulness for something I can’t fully picture.
God, reading this back is embarrassing. Feelings sure tutn me into a weirdo.
I still remember the first time I saw you again. I knew it was you after all those years and I felt so weird. I still get that feeling two years later. You amaze me every time we talk because you're you. You're so patient and kind and caring. I get bored of everything but I haven't gotten bored of you again and I don't think I'm going to.
You radiate love. Your warmth could evaporate the rainiest of days and your aura could make the sun feel cool And calm. A chameleon envies your makeup. It could only wish to blend so well. Your lips rival the first of a world class boxer. Each time they strike me, I’m knocked off my feet. Your smile is blinding; it blinds me from anything else in my view as it draws me in. I’m cuffed by your smile and your eyes throw away the key. When we hold each other, we squeeze our bodies and touch our hearts. Pushing into each other even deeper. Sharing and receiving that special feeling between us. Always multiplying and expanding.
To you, who once was:
Again and again, thank you for guiding me, thank you for holding my hand. I feel your presence, in the most beautiful ways. You're physically not here, but you're everywhere - in the colours and numbers and words that I encounter. Thank you. May you be well, always.