Dear Love,

It has been 366 days since the first time I said I love you.

I remember the time I took for me to be able to mutter those 3 special words for you. It was funny. I never took that long of a time just to muster some courage to say something. Something that changed my life forever. Oh maybe even forever is an understatement for what has happened this one year to me. Maybe even to you as well. Because as you may or may not know, there were a LOT of things – important things – happened since exactly one year ago. It has been one hell of a roller-coaster ride. I usually love roller-coaster ride, it fills me with adrenaline, it makes feel like my blood is racing throughout my body, as if every single blood cell is trying to make a full rotation inside my body: from the tips of my fingers back to the tips of my fingers, from my head back to my head, or from my heart back to my heart. The difference with my life’s roller-coaster ride is: I did not like the fucking fall.

Enjoy the ride, that’s what people said about the roller-coaster of life. How am I supposed to enjoy a goddamn fearful ride filled with despair and sorrow? I want to come to their face, and urge them to wear my shoes so they would know how the fall – my fall – felt like. I don’t know if I am still falling or currently on a flat track. I really am have no slightest idea. Everything besides the glowing love inside my heart for you and my work seems so bland. As if the universe forgot to sprinkle some salt and pepper in every dishes that came to my life. I wouldn’t deny that I’ve experienced new things, I wouldn’t deny that I’ve met a lot of great people and a lot of assholes, yet I still have to say that I’m still filled with bruises from the events that come into my life at times, because when the old bruises were about to heal, I took yet another beating, adding another bruises to my weary body. And I still have to continue to walk while wondering if the beating would cease, for it’s already hard for me to walk with the absence of your presence every single day, and now the bruises? And not to mention the intense longing that come at times.

A lot of people said – even the psychiatrist – that I have to face and address my feelings. Oh I did, but it only makes me worse. I look older than I actually am, whenever I meet new people they would guess that I am at my late 20s or fresh 30. I understand that the events that happened took a toll on my appearance. But I wouldn’t deny that I got one single precious thing from them: wisdom. For wisdom came from experience. Still, the feeling was lingering, and latching like a leech. I had difficulties to pour out and express my feelings, to describe what has happened to me, and to describe my thoughts and feelings. And so, 7 months ago, when I was lying down on my bed thinking of what has happened to us, I randomly took my phone, and began to write. It was my first long writing filled with my thoughts and feelings. I kept it in my Google Drive folder, and honestly felt quite relieved afterwards. And then, well, Love, you know what happened.

I continued to write. I wrote, and I wrote, and I wrote, and I’ve described and wrote every single thing that has happened between you and me, and everything that has happened in our life. I’ve described the dreadful events. I’ve described my thoughts and my feelings. I’ve described the way I see your thoughts and your feelings. I’ve described myself. I’ve described you as a hurricane, a drug – my addiction. I’ve used the sun, the moon, forests, deepest ocean, highest mountain, the brightest star, the astonishing design of the galaxy, the universe, because you, are my universe. My everything.

Maybe it has been 366 days. Maybe it has been 7 years. Both of us never know for sure how long has it been. But if there’s one thing that I know for sure, is that this feeling, is still there and won’t go away anywhere. I’ve had my time, I’ve had my infatuation period towards you numerous times since years ago, and it subsided. Yet my roots toward you have become so entwined together. My love towards you is not a mere breathlesness nor excitement, and not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. Anyone can be “in love” towards you or towards me. And anyone could convince themselves that they are currently “in love” towards someone. love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away. And I know that the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches, but we did find out that we were one tree, and not two. Yet, you forgot all of those and walked away with your heart blinded and deafened.

After all this time, I believe we are crafting legends. Each of us, waiting for the one moment to define both of us. We – or at least me – tell tales as we choose to remember them. We relive our experiences in thoughts and feelings, sometimes imperfectly, but always the total of every moment shared together, and every word written and spoken. If my writings and my stories are where our memories etched forever, then let me create my masterpiece. Let me write what I want to write: I want to tell everyone how lucky I am to have you in my life. I want to tell them how important you are to me. How without you my days are long and my nights are restless. How you brighten up everything around me with the way you smile. How I admire your strength and talk about your inside – and not outside – beauty. I want to tell them how it feels to have this kind of love, to have this kind of endless affections toward someone. I want to break down all your walls and show you the beauty there is outside your walled heart, and if that’s not going to happen for now, at least I’ve been trying to paint the outside of your heart – the walls – with my writings and poems.

Oh I just want to be different from other people around you. I want to be the kindest person you’ll ever known that filled up the hollow space in your chest. I want to once again awake the glowing embers inside your ash-filled beating heart, like fireflies in a forgotten forest. I want to bring it back to life. I want you to feel hope and dream once again, rising from the ashes. I want you to slowly begin to resurrect with the majesty of a phoenix. Because I believe that what’s broken can be mended, and what’s hurt can be healed. No matter how dark it gets, the sun is going to rise again. But perhaps not today. Not right now, not this time. All I know is that I am letting whatever it is that my heart wants, and what it wants right now, is to love you. It is the only thing that it knows, and it is the only thing that keeps it perfectly whole.

And so, with this letter to you, I am ready to live my life for another full year from now. I don’t know what is going to happen between us, and I don’t know what plans the universe have for us. But all I know, we are currently making ourselves better. Me with my work and my efforts towards the better me, and you with all your plans and your work. Strive on, strive on continuously, and be the best version of you that you can achieve. There might be moments where you just want to cry as loud as wolves howling for the moon; when you just don’t want to get out of bed because the world around you is falling down and you feel safe by not moving; when the day passes and you will be turned off to everything around you; when the rain falls and you just sit there and drink from it because you are thirsty for reason; when the song is playing but you don’t really listen to it, and use it so that the noise can drown out hear heart and mind; when the fear of not being beautiful enough seeps in. When those happen – when you need someone who is willing to go above and beyond their own measures of love – remember me, and remember me always.

And lastly, remember that I will always be there for you. Do not misunderstand me, I might not always be there with you, and I might not always be around you. But do not confuse me with those – for I have promised that I will, and I always will be there for you, no matter what happens.







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