Darling,
I feel like writing to you when you are next to me.
That is the best option I have,
For I cannot paint your beautiful smile and cheerful laughter,
For you are seemingly an art, a poetic typology of words.

But you are now far away,
And I miss you so much.
Only words can convey the magnitude of me missing you,
Of your entire presence and existence,
Of moments we had together,
In sweet surrender.

Darling,
I wish to be your wings,
And you will fly up to the lilac skies,
To the yellow stars of the galaxies,
To the green places you have dreamed of;
When you do not feel at home, even when you are home.

I wish to be everything to you,
And devote my entirety to you,
To be the shoulder that you cry upon,
To be the arm that you lean on;
When you are sad, even when you are laughing to my silly jokes.

For the time and distance signify,
The barriers that separate the worlds of us.

But darling,
Fret not.
They do not make me love you less;
They make me miss you more.

There were days when I tried to philosophically explain things;
of why certain existence existed,
of what shaped them to be them.

It is you who can understand why,
after all this while,
and for the nth times,
I wonder why it is you.

I have walked through the parks,
the art museums, the galleries;
I have traveled through the mediums,
spaces, in books, in poems;
Just to understand why it is the way it is.

It was meant to be self-destruct,
to be falling for you unconditionally,
completely without any showings.
But it did not, why?

Perhaps the answer is not supposed to be found?
Perhaps it is best if it is left unchecked?
Perhaps letting the river flows and the wind goes by.
Like how your smile glides through me nonchalantly?

It is you that I want to return to,
in the warm caress that is beyond anything.
It is you that I want to fall for,
of belonging to you, captivated,
of yours, in sweet surrender, forever.

To be drowning in these moments,
treasuring garden of roses,
a beautiful palace,
that your heart is.

I wasn't lying when I said,
You were the wildflowers that bloomed the garden of my heart.
For their existences brighten my gloomy world.

I wasn't lying when I said,
The scenery was beautiful yet majestic.
For truthfully, you're that scenery.

I wasn't lying when I said,
I fell in love with that scenery (read: you),
As much as you love the pureness of white Halstatt.

I wasn't lying when I said,
I prayed for us to end well too.

For not a second goes by,
That I don't think about you.

Walking by the seaside these past few days made me realised,
How your significant existence to me,
Was in parallel to the existence of the sea waves,
Crashing the beaches every day, every hour, every second.
Continuously, without a break in the betweenness of moments.

Watching the purplish sunsets,
Nonchalantly thinking how you were not here,
To watch their beauty with me.
Such a wasted, majestical moment,
Blew away in the dust of time.

If only you know how much I cared for you.
If only you know how much I longed for you.
If and only if you know how much you meant to me.
But it doesn’t matter, does it?
That everything should be left unsaid.

I still remember the first time I met you.
Of blurry memories and vivid feelings.
Of our fiery hearts and egoistic natures.
And yet, I did fall for that smile.
Time and time again.

I still remember, in the sweet old London.
Of blurry memories and vivid feelings.
Of overwhelming awkwardness of me and you.
And yet, I did confront the fear.
Of getting to know you.
Of opening, giving my heart to you.
Trusting you, to not pull the trigger on me.

It wasn't easy, trust me, but happiness is what I wish for both you and me.

It wasn't selfish, I hope, to yearn for the wish as far as the brightest star in the galaxy.

To just be with you, always.

It felt both winter and spring,
at the same moment,  
when I was with you.

You were the wildflowers,
I held so dearly,
and sadly,
wilted away,
they died.

You hurt me time and time,
the numbness of feelings,
Or the sense of everything.

Yet you wished for me,
to be pure and true,
yet your cast flew.

The fault is on me, this time.
It has always been since the beginning of time.

It is killing me dreadfully,
this reciprocity,
in a beautiful way,
only to be fathom by a *******.

Only keeping a promise no one is sure of.

It was never a misstep to ask for a few,
Even it did feel weird at times yet it was pure and true.  

It was surreal, unimaginable yet joyous times, like a dream.

Such in a graceful dance, how beautiful life is,
For the heart is not mine to dictate,
For the soul is not mine to possess.

Such in a tranquil, a quiet dark room,
Listening to the sounds of nature,
A waterfall fitting into the picture.

Such the state of grateful, in remembrance, in the living memories of sweetness stories, of happy moments, no longer a torment.

For the initials were barriers, for the waves to not destroy the sand castles of bottled feelings.
For the good endings, come into lovely shapes of a smile.