
Each day is a struggle; to count it makes every hour an agony. I, in thought of you-may not be in desperation but of unfailing hopes and incessant wishes to the God of small things and the universe to have mercy over a mortal-have been in strange instances when I became in control of time, that I was on the verge and the success of speeding an hour glass, but I was snapped back to reality and I realized there is no such thing as to make haste. Again, it is not desperation; it is a mere result of not having contact with the real world, since I have been in Euphoria-my strongest sense of intoxication-for the past few days, and to notice the number of days that passed was already becoming a failure. All these because of a wish: to finally realize my thoughts of being able to see this one person I love held trapped within these very arms.
How can one person in love restrain herself from not wishing to hold the only person that makes her heart leap, that caresses her soul, and that who intensifies her body temperature? To poison a cat would be an easier venture.
It was through you that I realized that love transcends time: that even a day is more than enough to find oneself in love. When love is spoken by your mouth-the mouth that I’ve been so longing to kiss-it is by far one of the sweetest melodies ever played and ever heard by these ears, and the sweetness and sincerity never fail to penetrate this once-idled soul and leave it vulnerable to feelings simultaneously ambivalent and apparent.
My id and ego were in divulsion, but it joys me that the id did not find it difficult to win me; the ego, on the other hand, is unexpectedly enjoying the victory of the id. I have never been so irrational; just now, that the heart is fully taking over all of me and the other entities I have so successfully played.
To tell you “I love you” is an understatement. You fill my mornings with a thousand sunrises: that dawn is always in its most pristine youth, and midday is always at its most luminous.
You always convinced me that it was fate’s doings that led you to me or me to you. You should know that I never contest that, for I have always found that thought beautiful. Whoever fate is, I am grateful to her. The most priceless part of this chapter-of fate’s intrusion-is the part where we most willingly help fate to make what she has done worthwhile; that we, every single day, give her a hand and in exchange we find ourselves happy, in love, and in hope-the very hope that keeps what’s ahead alive-that someday we will find ourselves enjoying a million sunrises together, and like how your song goes: forever.
But now I still wait for you. The sound of your name in my mind resonates as loud as an unforgiving thunder, taking over everything in me through its resonance. The thought of being with you is a great joy: a big bundle of sunlight-ribbon wrapped ecstasy. The thought of parting, however melancholic and could effortlessly drown me in lamentations, is physically present. But it could never take over the heart and mind. As Shakespeare wrote, “parting is such a sweet sorrow.” Indeed, it is, and wherever you maybe, please pray, take me with you, and may the absence of the body never be a reason for me to be absent in your thoughts, especially in your heart. Please do not fail to think of me, to feel me, to miss me, and to love me at times when you have nothing to do and to think about; at times when you rest from the world. This is a most humble request.
For now, I will enjoy these wonderful sweet meeting, for parting is always waiting at the end of it. And after that, I will think of you as you think of me.
How can one person in love restrain herself from not wishing to hold the only person that makes her heart leap, that caresses her soul, and that who intensifies her body temperature? To poison a cat would be an easier venture.
It was through you that I realized that love transcends time: that even a day is more than enough to find oneself in love. When love is spoken by your mouth-the mouth that I’ve been so longing to kiss-it is by far one of the sweetest melodies ever played and ever heard by these ears, and the sweetness and sincerity never fail to penetrate this once-idled soul and leave it vulnerable to feelings simultaneously ambivalent and apparent.
My id and ego were in divulsion, but it joys me that the id did not find it difficult to win me; the ego, on the other hand, is unexpectedly enjoying the victory of the id. I have never been so irrational; just now, that the heart is fully taking over all of me and the other entities I have so successfully played.
To tell you “I love you” is an understatement. You fill my mornings with a thousand sunrises: that dawn is always in its most pristine youth, and midday is always at its most luminous.
You always convinced me that it was fate’s doings that led you to me or me to you. You should know that I never contest that, for I have always found that thought beautiful. Whoever fate is, I am grateful to her. The most priceless part of this chapter-of fate’s intrusion-is the part where we most willingly help fate to make what she has done worthwhile; that we, every single day, give her a hand and in exchange we find ourselves happy, in love, and in hope-the very hope that keeps what’s ahead alive-that someday we will find ourselves enjoying a million sunrises together, and like how your song goes: forever.
But now I still wait for you. The sound of your name in my mind resonates as loud as an unforgiving thunder, taking over everything in me through its resonance. The thought of being with you is a great joy: a big bundle of sunlight-ribbon wrapped ecstasy. The thought of parting, however melancholic and could effortlessly drown me in lamentations, is physically present. But it could never take over the heart and mind. As Shakespeare wrote, “parting is such a sweet sorrow.” Indeed, it is, and wherever you maybe, please pray, take me with you, and may the absence of the body never be a reason for me to be absent in your thoughts, especially in your heart. Please do not fail to think of me, to feel me, to miss me, and to love me at times when you have nothing to do and to think about; at times when you rest from the world. This is a most humble request.
For now, I will enjoy these wonderful sweet meeting, for parting is always waiting at the end of it. And after that, I will think of you as you think of me.
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