Aesthetics

I just watch. All I do is watch you. And then think about about how much I could've been loving you, right now. In this very moment. I could've been touching your hands. I could've been facing your breathtaking face and staring into the brownest eyes I've ever seen. I could've been holding you as close to me as ever. And just looking at you forever.

But all I do is watch. Watch how you are not that close to me. Watch how you are not reaching for my hands and watching me. I just crave you. You just crave to forget me. I feel like a person on their deathbed when I say, "I need you. And I will need you until I cannot love you anymore, till I cannot last."

I live on hoping to be able to look into your eyes someday and say that, "I love you. I always have, I think."

I do not know why I can never have this. Why can a heart never be happy. If not happy then always sad. If not now then later. The light may shine in the dark sometimes. But darkness always arrives, even in paradise.

I don't know why am I unlovable. I simply do not know why I can never be wholly loved. When I said that I'll need you until I cannot love you, I meant that till the air continues to fill my lungs and I am capable of loving anybody, I will always need to love you. But people seem to love me only when they need me.

What is any of this doing anyway? Who am I even talking to? The confines of something that will never reach you. Where my hands bleed agony and frustrations that I cannot answer to, onto scraps and these anonymous letters. And there you are, you sleep like a child. And I'd do anything to preserve those dulcet dreams you have. So I won't wake you and tell you how much I have to say to you.

I will just bleed on until I cannot anymore."

I want to give him the emotional sense of comfort and safety that he has never received from the world he lives in. I just want him to feel safe when he is in my arms and to know, he can let his tears roll by, I shall wipe them even before they'd leave his rheumy eyes. I just want him to know that after all the troubles he receives, his little safe space is waiting for him at home, with an ambient space and a warmly made bed for him to sleep in, without the slightest of disturbance. I want him to be treated with softness, with love, with the caress of my fingertips in his hair as he closes his eyes because he feels at peace.

My heart no longer flinches when I saw you. . . There isn't even a feeling of slight chills running down my spine when I feel your touch or see your smile like I used to.

Empty but not cold. My heart is homeless now. For a moment I thought my heart would ache or flutter when things about you were spoken of but I felt absolutely nothing.

So near and yet so far, so familiar and yet so strange. I feel like I barely recognize you, like a stranger at the crossroads. A stranger I can't forget no matter how rational it is. Delightfully rare and extraordinary; a beauteous stranger. I must confess knowing you is a splendid adventure.