Is it the touch of a hand?
Is it a smile glittering through the darkness?
Is it a kiss or simply a warm embrace?
Is it dancing around the room with you?
Is it crying into your shoulder?
Is it telling each other jokes and laughing?
Is it over coffee breaks, casual and relaxed?
Is it over a stiff dinner, proper but beautiful and glittering?
I don’t know.
Will it take time to love you? Or will I love you at first sight?
Will it be a fairytale or a tragedy?
Will it end happily? Or will it end with someone slamming the door?
I guess I won’t know for a while.
You don’t know me–yet. I’m glad, because I’m really confused and such a teenage girl. You would pass by me and think I was some crazy woman who had a obsession with unicorns and coffee/chocolate.
You probably will never read this, I’ll probably have deleted my blog by then or simply want to hide it from you. But I want to meet you, so bad. Nothing can describe the ache of loneliness I feel, that I guess you can only fill. Only you can fill it, that must make you feel quite special. I wonder sometimes if you ache for me? If you feel as lonely as me at times…
See, there is this problem. I want love, I tell myself I want love. And admittedly I’ve fallen for a guy or two. BUT–they’re not you (whoever you may be). I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t want someone to love me, I want you to love me. There is predicament, right there. I want to love someone who doesn’t know I exist yet. Silly, right? Why yes it is love.
Sometimes I’m afraid of you. That you’re going to come at the most inopportune time, college or on my deathbed. That you’re going to make me a psychopath, that I would follow you off a cliff, or murder, lie, cheat, and steal for you. That you’re going to hurt me, and leave me absolutely broken in pieces.
Just…don’t wait too long, ok? Don’t leave me wishing for a phantom. Don’t leave me hopeless. Loveless. Stranded. Scared. Confused. Because you have that power. I don’t think you know it yet, but you do.
I don’t where you are, or how our love will be, but I wanna know.
P.S. And if we ever meet, have a great time, but eventually break. Make sure we end with me standing in the sunset with my nice dress on. So I can fulfill my dream of being remembered as something out of Taylor Swift song.
P.P.S. Oh and give me a library. I’m in dire need of a library. Preferably something large and filled with millions of books. (For further reference of my gift, watch Beauty and The Beast.)