To You,

I have written several notes in my head to you. But the words rarely find their way to the veins of my inked warriors. There were a lot of things that I wanted to say but I backspaced them from the lack of courage and from the sheepish feeling that nudged me from the pit of my stomach. Like how my heart skipped a beat when you looked into my eyes, how I felt an unfamiliar pain in my abdomen and wondered if that is what people call “butterflies in the stomach”. How I just sit and stare at you for hours as you sleep unaware of the soft kisses I steal from your lips. How I always long for more. For we have been led to believe that all this is not possible, that these weird feelings are the machinations of love lorn lonely writers that feed it to the hungry deprived general population, filling their heads with fluff. We are led to think that in the 21st century breakdown, it is a myth, so much so that when someone feels that strange mix of emotions, it fills them with panic, “is it really happening to me?!”.

It scares us, it scares me and I know it scared you. And yet we wearily took slow steps to the inevitable, because despite all our fear, despite all those alarm bells, the heart’s call is always too strong to ignore. And yet I never tell you. I never tell you how when I cannot sleep at nights, I think of your smile at my touch as I stare in the dark experiencing an invisible comfort. That the little things you do for me warm the cockles of my heart the most. And that despite a terrible memory you remember every silly details I tell you, even things that I forget myself.

There are so many things that are left unsaid between us. But then I wondered, do they really need to be put into words? With all our insecurities and fears we pushed those sentences in some dark recess of our minds, when what they really needed was the light of the day. And then, like always, it was too late. Too late to say anything that would be worth anything anymore. What if you just knew that whatever that was, was worth something then, if not anymore? Let me say those dreaded words now. I loved you. Could anything be more tragic? I loved you.

From

A Love That Never Was