I want to feel how people who know how to love feel. I want their hearts, the fulfillment when they waited so long for someone who never showed but they just cry. Their hearts always hurt but they don't have the heart to hurt others. They know that everything hurts more at night but they stay up late, anyway. They're in the middle of a war but they don't fight. It's torture, that the hands they hold on to are the hands that waved sideways, fading into untouchable air, telling them goodbye. It's hard, that they think every goodbye deserves another hello.
I don't understand. So i just look up to the sky, wishing, that in my next life, i get to be the one who loves-- the one who doesn't live waiting for someone to love her back.

I like staying in hypnagogia--
   between sleeping and waking up.

I feel happy,
        not conscious,
        not dreaming.

Because the thing about reality is
        it's not a dream,

and the thing about dream is
         it's not real.

(fohn)

Maybe, people only loved the easy parts of me;
the shallows;
the circumstance where they don't struggle.

But it's okay,

I always forbid entry every time someone tries to come near the deep borders of my soul, anyway.

I asked the sky,

"Why do people always leave?"

It darkened and answered,

"Because you deserve the universe,"

the galaxies turned bright,

"but they're just stars."

If you can really love someone one day and say straight to their face that you still love them unchanged after you parted ways for many years, what do the people in the middle get? What do the people in between the year you took a break and the year you meet again have left for them?

Oh! A temporary love, right?

The kind of love that you call "less," when you feel you have no other choice and you can't live a day alone so you settled for it.

And when a better option shows up as your old and true love comes back, it is the love that you can easily drop, the love that you easily get tired of, the love that you regret at the end, the love that you take for granted.

And behind that love, are persons-- dropped, regretted, and taken for granted. Right?

You look at him and his eyes remind you of something that tickles your stomach and grips your heart hard. You don't know it at first but as you get to know him better, as you witness his different sides, you'll realize it is the fear that after so many years and behind the love that he showers you is that if given the chance, he will still choose his old love over the new love that you let your heart out for and you fearfully took a risk at.

I like believing people when they say that actions speak louder than words. I heard I miss yous the loudest when you kissed my hands, I love yous deafened me when your lips met mine. I knew I hold the world when my arms wrapped around you and you reciprocated the sweetness that coated us.

I think that's how it works, you show me and I think. I will think what I want it to mean.

After so many wordless but apparent moments that I put wholehearted conviction that are true, you finally showed proof.

I heard a glass breaking when you dropped my hands. I watched your back slowly fading away, and the gusty space between us whispered to me with suddenness, "it's over."

I looked into your eyes, but you looked away.
You mouthed no word, but I clearly heard.
Although I tried to deny,
your silence sounded like goodbye.

I love the sea;

the sands;

the waves; and,

its honesty.

I asked the sea once,

"Why do people always leave?"

all its saltiness suddenly tasted bland,
its waves suddenly calmed.

It answered,

"Because they are searching for another person,"

it paused when I sobbed
as if it felt my sadness
and it was sad, too,

"and they did not find it in you."

They say getting lost leads to discovery of beautiful paths. But here I am, peeling other people's skin and forcing myself to wear them because it already felt an eternity yet I just keep on getting lost and I envy those who already found one.

a thousand thoughts would have been saved for the day it would be needed most

if you just looked up and stare at the vast heavens of complete bliss

and let the sky worry about being blue