It isn’t true that I can’t find the right words to say, that I can’t find it in me to write about you and the thousand different emotions you make me feel.
The truth is that I want to write, to be able to write about you freely and openly, without anyone telling me that I can’t or shouldn’t. I want to turn these lingering feelings into words I aim to poetically express, as love can turn even the darkest heart into pastel colors.
I know I’m just scared that expressing and sharing what I truly feel increases the possibility of getting it ruined by people who just can’t stomach seeing someone finally getting the happiness they’ve so long been deprived of. As if feeling happy is a mistake, as if you owe them an explanation as to why you’re getting better, consciously being okay with yourself, and finally learning to trust those you choose to include in your monochromatic little world.
I’m terrified to speak out and have it stolen from me, but I also want to let everyone understand, or at least try to understand, that my love for you has made my lost heart find its way back to this hollow chest. Long enough, it searched for its home. I want them to know this so little by little they would see why in the process of searching, I pushed people away and didn’t even try my best to make anyone stay.
I’ve been left wandering for too long, lost and couldn’t find where my pieces fit. I’ve been pretending, constantly adapting and adjusting to people and feelings that only scattered me to all the wrong places, risking my sanity even more.
Though I cannot, in any way, force anyone to comprehend the pain and joy of knowing that your heart belongs to me, as much as mine yours, I can only hope for them to witness the love we’ve always had for each other, even when time and circumstances misaligned for us and tore us apart, for them to steer clear of judgments and only stir out fragments of genuine happiness.
You are my every day; you are every color that exists, and you are those that don’t. You are words I cannot speak, but also words I’m dying to scream. You are every fiber of what encompasses everything.
I want to see you, hold you, love you, in ways we both deserve to be seen, held, and loved. We’ve let the chaos of this world turn our directions opposite from each other long enough, but I’m not going to let it keep doing so because you patently turn my life around and you’re the one who keeps it spinning.
I will always search for you in crowds, the same way I long for your presence in empty places. I will always choose to listen to your voice amid the deafening voices in my head; even when you speak to me in soft whispers, I’ll always find a way to hear as it tells me how I also deserved to be treated fairly, to be cared for, to be loved.
The truth is that I’m dying to write about you, I’m just scared of not giving even a bit of justice to how you make me feel. But please know that even if words fail me, my heart never will.
I love you. I always have, I always will.