Life and death. Black and white. Most things are created in pairs and I wonder if God forgot to create one for me.
If you're reading this, you're probably one of the person she loves most and I hope you know how lucky you are for that. My best friend carries a universe inside her, one where I hope you would take the time to map and explore. It could take you all your life but I hope you're patient. She is the star on a clear night, she is also the gloomy sky when it rains and storms. I hope you can appreciate her when she's shining her brightest and lift her up when she's on her knees having the weight of the world crushing her down. She is an ocean, her tides change with the moon. And you are a sailor in her waters, brave, conquering the raging storm. If you're reading this I know she has found the one, hopefully the love of her life because I will not settle for anything less.
My best friend does not know how to love in moderation because when she falls, she falls hard and she falls fast. She's strong but fragile, she cries easily but she's determine in her decisions, she knows how to stand her ground. She has loved and been loved. She too has been hurt and broken. If you're reading this, you probably have pieces of her broken heart if not whole. I will not ask you to patch her up because my best friend is not some ceramic doll that needs fixing. She is the girl standing next to you now because of her broken pieces. She is more than her broken heart. What I dare ask is to treasure her for all she is. I hope you love her sharp edges even though sometimes she bleeds from it. I hope you kiss her wounds better. I hope you fall in love with the way she laughs at something stupid. I hope you realise how much she loves you when you look into her eyes. Most importantly, I hope you'll love her as much I did, as much as I do.
She has been my world and you will soon be hers. Do not let her crash and burn because I will pour you the ashes and drown you in your own fire.
happiest birthday my lovely Haziera I hope you know you are loved wherever you are <3
You had winter flowing in your veins, the shuddering cold a familiar friend. Never once you tasted summer. So when her fingers touched yours, suddenly spring was blooming and you've never seen so many cherry blossoms in your life. You wonder if this is what summer tasted like, if ever a season could be tasted. She was warm and bright, like summer's heat, refreshing but undoubtedly unfamiliar. She left, leaving autumn in her wake. And you're back into the familiar cold winter but it's not the same anymore. Fleeting seasons but permanent memories.
Postcards
I love it when you send me postcards.
It's a small gesture, but to me it means the world. It's like there's traces of me all over the world, be it in your thoughts or the open sea in front of you. It makes me all warm and tingly knowing that despite being thousands of miles away, from one country to another I'm always there. Maybe not in flesh but definitely in soul. I lie in bed at night thinking which country is it this time. Though I may not know where you are I am comforted knowing eventually you'll come back home to me. The smiley on your postcards is enough to make me smile the whole day. Sometimes it's a long heartfelt confession, other times just a simple
'I miss you'.
Eloquent.
Some time long ago, I told you how much I love classic hand-written love letters, the effort of holding pen and paper, writing instead of typing, crossing out sentences instead of pressing the backspace button. There's something that feels a lot more sincere and genuine to it. You laughed and I know writing is not your forte. So when I received your first postcard, I couldn't stop glowing the whole day. Then, the mailman keeps on coming every week or so and I'm so surprised you remember. Even more surprised that you go as far as scribbling little notes and your thoughts for me. It may seemed like nothing to other people, but knowing you, I know this is a big step. Dissecting yourself bare and open, vulnerable. The little things you do for me, for us. And I'm falling in love with you more and more each day, you surprised me more and more each day. The years I've spent thinking I know you, and you always prove me wrong. We're discovering more of each other as each anniversary pass and I want to love every version of you just like how you've loved mine. We argued a lot, sometimes petty misunderstandings lead to petty arguments. Sometimes we fight about who loves the other most. I've always said I love you more than you love me, but a deeper selfish part of me wants you to love me most. And I hope you do.
Today another postcard arrived. This time from Copenhagen. Your hand writing messy, but I've learned to decode your language enough to understand that you're coming home. You're coming back home.
:)
