It was impossible not to miss him,
He was impossible to miss.
But I missed to see that,
What I was actually missing
was the idea of him-
being missing and missed.

Here I have with me,
Half burnt photographs,
A handful of recipes of food you love,
A stack of decaying envelopes addressed to Mr-
But they never arrived at your doorstep,
Not even in your mailbox,
Or your hands.

Because they have found their home in my little oak drawer,
caked with dust and the smell of time.

I figured it out-
The reason why I have not been able
To forget you
Or memories of you,
That some days I wish
I could run freely into your arms
Or feel your warmth,
And I sometimes see your ghost
Roaming about my day
Or lingering like a disease in my head.

I figured it out,
Why you are still present,
Though you are in the past.

I have decided to let go of you a while ago,
To eradicate the moment we first met,
As if you never existed.
But it never worked because I
Still shamelessly walk around hoping
For you to come and rescue me
From the memory of you.

I know what it is that keeps me from
Forgetting you.
I've moved on and closed that part of me
That holds your chapter.
But I realize what it is that keeps me running to you,
It's the fact that I do not forgive you of what you've done-
To me, To yourself and to who we were,
My innocence and faith.

Moments, they only have meaning
When I am with You.                  
I wonder why I have only just met
You but knew that I have known You
At the drawing of my very first breath.

I lived, but learnt the meaning of
Living only when You proved that my
Heart truly existed, whenever it skip numerous beats, every time
My eyes devour You.

And “I Love You” has never been said
Not through words
Nor any sign languages known to mankind,
but it is implied each time our eyes met.

Hi.
May I sit down? Thank you.
So how are you? Has it been four years? Really? Wow, Time has sprinted away from us like criminals, don't you think so?
I've been alright...

Well anyway, I know this might seem weird or awkward but the reason why I came over is because I wanted to apologize for what happened last time. It was crazy, I stepped out of bounds.

Yeah... sorry about that. I was not in my right mind at that time.
You left, and I didn't know what to do.
I was heartbroken.
I'm sorry for that scary note on your car, really, I am.
When I realized what I did the following day, I really wanted to get that note back...

... but my friend, Ari, remember her?
Yeah, the blonde one with the bob... well, she told me to leave it.
She wanted you to know how I felt.
Crazy.
I didn't know what I was thinking.
I'm seriously sorry for that.

Well... other than that, I just wanted to say, thank you
For what? You silly,
For everything-
for leaving me, especially.

I was really crushed you see,
I spent months stuck in bed mourning over you, and it wasn't pretty.
I didn't even want to talk to my mother after what you did to me,
Imagine that.

For that one year, I tried to be normal.
To forget I ever alienated myself from anyone
No, I didn't get fired from work, thank God...
You know how supportive my boss is
and really, all I wanted was to not break down... ever.

No, you don't have to apologize, really,
I forgave you long before I forgave myself.

No coffee for me, I'm leaving in a bit, I just wanted to say hello and apologize.

How long? Well, I was in that place for almost two years
until one day, this ****** stopped me in the middle of road.
right at the zebra crossing, imagine that!

and I was in my sweat pants...looking like crap....
yeah, I was still in-the-mourning over-
yeah, you,
but really, this stranger just stopped me from crossing to the other side.

Well, I didn't know at first,
but the first thing that came out of his mouth was,
"Do you know how many women I've said the three words to?"

Naturally, I freaked out of course! Who wouldn't!
Well, as much I love seeing you running away from him, I guess that'll never happen.

What was my answer to what? Oh, his question you mean?
Right, so I answered,
"No, I don't even know the number of women that you know!"
and he stared at me, like I'm this strange art piece in a museum that probably has zero meaning to anyone but meant the whole world to the artist.
Oh, he looked at me like both.
and then he said,
"Three. I've said the three words to only three people in my entire twenty seven years of living. My mother was the first."

I tried to cross the road again but he started following me.
This weird attractive man started following me across the road, and he didn't stop talking.

"Amelie was the second," he said.
So I replied, "Good for you. Are you married to her then?"
He started laughing and I really didn't know why until he told me that Amelie is his cat.

So I asked him about the third, and he said,
"I'm living with my girlfriend, Jess,
she's swell...
she cooks,
does the laundry,
cleans up the house,
you know, she does all the girly stuff around the place...
But I've been with her for a year now,
and I've never said it to her,
the three words."

Yeah, I did ask him, and he answered,
"Simple. I didn't love her. I wasn't in love with her. So why should I lie?"
It seemed like a rational answer, right?

His name is James, and we've been together for almost a year now.
Yes, thank you, I can honestly say that I am unimaginably happy.

What happened to Jess you mean?
They broke up hours after my first meeting with him.

No, God no, he didn't cheat on her with me!
We remained friends, and we still are.
Oh, so how did we ended up together?
I guess I'd have to go back to our first meeting then,
mine and his, I mean.

So I stopped walking and I was standing face-to-face with this gorgeous ****** who seemed really out of sorts, and I asked,
I was really ******* by then though...
"Sir, why are you telling me this?"

He gave me those two looks once again and said,
"I love you."

Of course I was shocked!
I wasn't only shocked,
I was frustrated, overwhelmed, infuriated, and well, everything!
He was still standing in front me like this lost puppy.
No, he didn't move at all!

So he said,
"I don't know what it was, maybe I'm bewitched by some black magic or maybe this is what the media calls fate, but the moment I saw you approximately eleven minutes ago, I knew it was you. I knew it had to be you. I saw it."

"You saw? What is it?"

"You know how people always say that they see paradise when they meet people they like, or something super cheesy like seeing Angels and whatnot? Fact it, they always see great and happy things but I didn't. I didn't see that in you. I don't know what it was or why, but I saw heaven and hell in you,  so I knew that I've found the third girl."

At first there was that numbness, that ridiculously soul-******* coldness you tried your best not to be succumbed by but you failed, over and over, as you know and acknowledge that his absence was the most terrifying feeling you have ever known. Then came the moments of weakness, where you can’t find anything to rely on or a heart to crash into, to have that equity with what he did to you and you feel tempted to go on a hunt and find a victim that could lend their heart for a while, and let it be played. But you stopped, because you realise that doing so won’t make you feel any better, or any different than him.  Nobody, or maybe everybody- at one point in their lives- will know the cruelty of being awoken by your conscience in the middle of the night and having to face reality as it passes by like a child needing your attention. If this makes you alive, this thing called Pain, then, what sort of feeling makes you feel...dead?

Maybe at one point, I am dead. Maybe I hold the card to my resurrection.

Maybe I have the card in my back pocket and I can use it whenever I please.

Or maybe I’ve taken my box of matches instead....and lit the card on fire. And stayed. Dead.

So. You were saying. You think you're in love with me? What is that?

Is saying that equivalent to those three words?

Really, I don't know. But this, I know, with all my heart-
I know I am so falling for you too because I cant seem to find any other explanation for what I feel for you---aside from the inevitable truth, Love.

These days I question and unquestion myself, if that's even a word, and I ponder upon this and that and my mind lingers and I go crazy and my thoughts find their way back home to you.

That's how I know. How I am sure that I am irretrievably in love with you.

But baby... implying those three words is not enough, will never be. So say it because meaning it with all your heart is what counts.

To be - and to remain patient, when the merry-go-round that disguises itself as Life, as we acknowledge it, pulls us in every direction.

and at every angle the ride will be nauseating, exhausting and drifting...

But we shall perservere.

We shall, we shall.

If you don’t see it, one day- be it today, tomorrow, or in the years to come- another man will.


Another man will bring the colours back to her face,
Another man will steal the stars from the sky and place them in her eyes,
Another man will scoop her hand and never let go,
Another man will love her, the way you were supposed to,
Another man will make promises, and keep them,
Another man will stay. Indefinitely.


Before he comes, play your part, stay infinitely,
Before he comes, ask for her carpal tunnel and present the gem,
Before he comes, love her, and make her say, “I do,”
Before he comes, say her name repeatedly until in her heart she hears an echo,
Before he comes, don’t steal stars, but swear to be under them with her and tell no lies,
Before he comes- you know, she knows, that no man could, would and will ever take your place.

There was something about her- something unfathomable, that the naked eye would just look at and actually think that what they’re looking at is something well adored, but beneath those layers of well perfected facade, was a girl who buried her fears and insecurities on her own. The shovel was still in her hand, and her face was caked with the dirt she gathered from her lonesome journey as she told herself to be strong; to grow stronger with each passing day. What was it about her, that when you look at her, at first glance, all you could think of was, “She looks so heartbreaking,” and then you take another step closer and realised that she was just scared. She was terrified of what might come to her. So she distanced herself from the world and indulged in the numbness, the powerful swelling inside her that ruled majestically. How could her own body betray her? How could her own feelings betray her? Nothing else could be said to her to fix what was broken or to make her dig up her old scars because the key to all of that, she, had brilliantly swallowed.

She knew not to trust anyone, but along came this sparkly boy who looked promising- who seemed as if he fitted her like a swarm of bees in their nest. He was broken too, but she was the one who needed to be saved, away from him. She could not see it at first, because she was flooded with so much joy, that she forgot of her pain and for some time, it felt good to be iridescent. Then she remembered the tale of the Red riding hood, and ran, because the sweet boy, whom she pictured she would have spent the rest of her life with, turned into the monstrous wolf that her grandmother warned her about. She knew better now, she knew better than to talk to strangers, ever again.
And you wonder, when you look at her, “What is it about her that looks so heartbreaking?” and the answer came,

“It was that boy.”

Sometimes love comes too little, or it comes too late but does that make it any less true? You search for something your whole life, only to lose it once you finally had a grasp of it- it slipped right out of your fingertips. Why? Because you were wrong to “search” for it. You should have stayed there and let it locate you, or rather, stumble upon you. Like serendipity. Let destiny play its part.

But you know, the craziest thing is, I did. I stayed still and lived my life exactly the way I had been living because I knew that something like love can’t be forced- it will arrive at your doorstep when you are not even expecting it. I did not go about looking for love- no, because he appeared out of the blue and blurred every dimension, corner, crook and cranny of my 20/20 vision. He did not sweep me off my feet, the way I thought it would be when you fall in love, no- because when I was with him, I forgot that I had feet at all- I was not running, and it was not a walk in the park either. Being with him was more of a swim.

Why?

Because, sometimes I am swimming with sharks, and I feel as if they would sink their teeth in me anytime they choose to, the way my insecurities come and go- leaving me vulnerable and stripped, and alert. Like a flock of birds pecking their heads as they feed, insecurities would attack me the same way- a frenzy that I have no control over. At times I swam with mermaids- seemingly beautiful and ethereal- but once you get closer, they will try to drown you in as they unmask themselves and all you are left with is a question, “Will I survive?” and this is a lot like pretending to be fine, to tell yourself over and over that you will not drown, yet the pain inside, as everyone is all aware of, is way stronger than the fake smiles I plaster on each day as I vowed to stop being unhappy, but once he comes around, mer-figured, he looks promising and I would swim to him, thinking that his presence meant survival, but I would be wrong, again and again. Other times I swam in the azure Caribbean sea, believing this is paradise- filled with wondrous feelings and unimaginable liberation because the reason for all of this is in the water next to me, never letting go of my hand. The rest of the unidentified moments was like being a passenger in Titanic, believing that I was sailing on something that was “claimed” to be unsinkable, but as I blinked my eyes, I realised that I was cold, covered in ice and clinging onto a shattered piece of iceberg that was slowly melting with time in the middle of the silent but perilous ocean- with a whistle in hand, alone, and there were no signs of rescue teams to wait or look out for. That is what it felt like. Or feels like.

I never told you, but I gave you my all.
I gave you everything, all of me.
But it wasn't enough for you,
and now I wonder, what is?
What is enough for you?

Is it to see me cry you a river?
Or to witness me bleed over your love.
I bled to the bones, and still you turned away,
and I cried an ocean of tears, and still you walked out.

I am sorry that I have not stopped thinking about you-
Today, tomorrow and  an infinite seconds before,
before  you left I,
before I became just a girl.

I am sorry that you felt the way you did,
Whatever your feelings were, I know not what they are,
For you never told me,
When you should have,
But you let me pick up the pieces of your broken heart,
As I was mending mine.

At first I saw my future unraveling in my head,
I imagined spending an infinity with him,
From the day our heartstrings were plucked,
to the secrecy of our smiles on our wedding day.

But the image started to zoom and him became You instead,
and brightly glowed-incandescently joyous I am,
I never knew the depth of love I held for You,
till I saw Your face in my past, present and future dreams.

Six surprisingly short months were the only moments of her life that mattered to her- that ever existed in her memory, that she would never erase, or could, even if she begged herself to. They were rather the moments that defined her life and made her realise what living really meant. Oscar Wilde once said, ‘Most people exist, but they do not live’, and to admit that she understood it was an in-between thing, because she understood the concept of it, but did not walk in the concept of the phrase until Iskandar came along. And made her walk for those six defining months that changed her entire biological being.
Iskandar had the cards in his hands but he was shaken by his demons- the self indulging thoughts that crept up to him incessantly ever since his heart was broken by the one person he trusted not to, and he tried to pick himself up but never could because he had these walls built in his head to shield himself from anymore granules of pain. But she saw that those walls were in fact not the usual walls that consisted of bricks, they were mirrors that reflected images of his past and his innermost thoughts- and she saw that through him, yet did not ever tell. He admitted to her that he felt unworthy of ever being truly loved by anyone, given his completely monstrous past, and he told her to run away from him while she still could because she was not binded to him at all, but she stayed. She was deeply fascinated and intrigued by his past, and oddly enough, found them beautiful as it became the reason why she was pulled in.
And they wondered what she saw in him, because those who had seen her, thought of her as being extremely easy on the eyes, but the ones that knew her, inside and out, thought she was beautiful. They did not understand, and could never see what she saw through her eyes- where others saw a disfigured image, she thought of it as being incandescently pristine. They knew not why, and kept wondering over and over, why a girl who has spent her entire life dodging men, in spite of having many lined up fighting for her heart, would fall in love with a man who is not any bit better than the rest? He had insecurities, countless faults, made heaps of wrong turns in the past and a blurry future.
But yes, she loves him.
She is in love with him, unconditionally.
And she has finally understood why “Love is blind.”