Once upon a time, there was a boy who loved a girl distracted by her
own, distorted universe. Their worlds sit across opposite paths; he lived in the
north, she stayed in the south. But they were smart; they’d meet along the
lines of the center and trysts were apparent to them. When the time wouldn’t
conspire the two, he would send her love notes, during his stay.
He would sing her songs of love, but her ears would only descry despair
from its sound.
He would send her flowers as the epitome of their blossoming love, but
she would only compare it with the flowers’ short life.
He would tell her she was enough, she was suffice; but she would only
decode it with “was not’s” between his
But despite such disparity, he loved her with such mystery.
EXCERPTS FROM THE BOY’S LITTLE NOTES:
You are my home;
Your soul is where my heart is “set in stone;”
In your arms is where I’d spend my whole
Mourning Mondays, True-love Tuesdays and Soundly Sundays.
You are the song I play on my piano;
Your harmonies curb around my body
Dovetails with the sound it always yearns for.
Helen of Troy.
Aphrodite of Mount Olympus.
Juliet Capulet of Verona.
Calypso of Ogygia.
Rapunzel of Kingdom Corona.
Ariel of Atlantis.
Liza of the Orient Seas.
I could make a list of the world’s most beautiful faces, but your name
is the only thing that would matter the most to me.
In a world where promises are broken and people are easily left,
You are the only thing that is permanent in my heart and will never be
This went on forever, his love for her remained unchanged, untouched.
Well, except for one.
You are the sun;
Your rays reach through my soul,
Illuminating it, filling the gap
Between my mangled, cracked holes.
If I were to compare you with a single color, it would be red.
You scream of love, yet you scream in pain.
You scream so much power, yet you scream in feign.
But when your lips curves, you shine of vibrancy that any color wouldn’t
My heart is a garden and you planted it with flower seeds.
We nurtured it until it blossomed,
Watered it until it grew.
I showered it to reach its vitality, with pure duress and desire.
But why would you only sprinkle it scarcely, with delicacy and doubt in
I can’t breathe.
Do you deserve me as much as I deserve you?
170th week, my last note to you:
Oh darling, where have your light gone by?
Did the electricity run out,
Or did I turn it off?
Oh darling, why can’t I see your soul anymore?
Did you hide it in a box,
Or did I pour it gray?
Oh darling, why didn’t you cling onto me?
Did your arms get tired,
Or did I push it away?
Oh darling, how wrecked have you become?
Did you get yourself scarred,
Or did I tear you asunder?
He stopped. He was so busy fixing her that he forgot to fix himself.
THE GIRL’S FIRST, LAST AND ONLY NOTE
171th week, in response:
No, you did not.
I turned off the lights from the hope you gave.
I poured my soul gray as your soul intertwined with mine.
I pushed you away, while l I pushed myself away from my body.
I tore myself in pieces, as you tried to fix it back.
You were lovely,
But I was not.
Your insecurities do not only destroy you, but the others that love you.
Plus, the things we “overthink” and worry the most usually do not happen anyway.
Love yourself, accept love and love in return.