#131095

Jealous//171013 happy birthday manggaetteok. two years and counting, ive known you and im yet to see you irl. i really don’t mind not seeing you irl, im used to being locked up behind this screen of oceans and languages that i’ll never seem to get through. i don’t wish to meet you, i don’t wish to be known to you. i ve been living off the small fantasies and images i have of you and i wouldn’t want any fraction of it to be altered. even though at the bottom of my heart I wish to see you perform, its okay. of course im not envious of anyone who gets to see you within a few feet. not at all. am i jealous? im jealous of the autumn breeze that gets to kiss your face-that gets to caress your hair.im jealous of all the eyes that get to lay themselves on you from up close.im jealous of your blanket that gets to wrap you warm and tight.im jealous of all the songs on your playlist that gets to roam your mind and cause no stress.im jealous of all the hands that get to touch your soft ones.im jealous of the little things around you that fascinate you and have your gaze glued.im jealous of your bedside mirror that gets to manifest your beauty— and tell you every day just how great you are.im jealous of the rays of sunlight that bleed through the blinds of your window, and get to welcome you in the morning.im jealous of the starry sky you look up to everyday what s funny? we are under the same sky yet you’re so far from my reach.

do i fear? maybe. there will come a time when, you won’t be the first one to pop up in my mind when i think blooming flowers and cherry blossoms or warm marshmallows dipped in melted chocolate. there will come a time when your name’d fail to dance on my tongue when i speak about things i love. there will come a time when i’d barely meet you, in my dreams. there will come a time when a thought of you would do anything but trigger butterflies in my stomach. there will come a time when, i’d no longer resort to writing about you to let out my feeli??ngs??there will come a time when my days are not as fruitful as these days for the time must have come to a point where you consume little or no part of it. there will come a time when you’d stop putting yourself out there to have a normal life, even though its nearly impossible. will a time ever come when i’d stop wishing to know what goes through your mind-- what those glassy orbs perceive? will a time ever come when i’ll stop wondering how you conquer your problems? whether you bottle them up or not?will a time ever come when this will all become a memory that’d solely warm my mind? well, i know that time is not now.

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