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Friday, March 16, 2012

Our song.

I'll write it today, because today I'm sure. I'm more sure than I have been in a very long time. Today I know what I'd been struggling to form in my head for all these months. It's about that ache in your heart that you get when you just know something and have no power whatsoever to change it.

"They say there's always someone in a relationship who loves more. Oh god I wish it wasn't me."

Art. What is so special about it? Music, words, pictures - all art. What about it makes it what it is? That connection. And not to that painting or to that book or to that musical note - it is the connection in that moment with the one person that it takes you to. For art is never an individual thing. It may be created by one, but it can never be in seclusion. It will always lead you to something.. or someone. And today, for the infinith time, it led me to you.

Everytime I hear a new song, you're the first person that pops into my head. I want to run to you and make you listen to it. I know you wouldn't even like it for I've just fallen for the crappy lyrics and you'll look for some brilliance which it doesn't possess. But the very fact that it made me think of you made it exemplary enough in my head. I see a picture and I absolutely have to send it to you. It could be of a pretty girl or a funny dog or a non-existent alien. I'll still want you to look at it and smile or laugh hopefully, and I like to be the reason behind that nanosecond of your happiness, that hint of your smile. And every single time I make a new memory, I embed you in it. I read words which someone said before me and I quote them to you for maybe they'll come close to explaining what it is.. what I'm trying.. what I want you to know. I write to you, for you, every single word, all this incoherence, searching always for better ones to outdo those three words, to replace those eight letters with something much more magnificent. Something worthy of you, of us.

But then it's love. That's four. Our number.
And there's you. That's three. Your number.
You add an I and it becomes eight. My number.

"How can you love someone so much and not know how, how to love them?"

I don't know how to love you. I just know that I do. I don't know how to show it or make you believe it because I don't think I can. All you should know is that you're in my dreams, you're in my heartbeat, you're in my very soul.

So I'll write that song. The one about us. And you'll sing. In that wonderful voice. I'll pull you close and we'll dance to it. Under the moonlit sky.

And until then, every piece of art, will draw me to just one person, always. That for me is love. Wanting you, long after having gotten you. Wanting more of you, everyday. Wanting you so much, it hurts almost. Thankyou. If not for you, I would've never known love.
And maybe that would have been an easier life option, but I'd rather brave out the storms and hurricanes. For when they wear out, I'll still be here, waiting for those stars to light up my moonlit sky. Because you owe me a song baby. And I will forever owe you a dance.


  1. Huh...all these things seem to have happened ages ago! At least for me! Good for you that you at least FEEL.

    1. I try to. But I think I die a little more each day. Why, why has this year been so horrible to me? Love kills. It doesn't hurt, that's an understatement. It rips and torments and KILLS.