My 2014.

Dear you,

I love you. I love you to the point of insanity. I love you above all uncertainties and the right things in life. 

I will never be able to tell you this, because there is no way you will understand what I feel for you. I have always wanted to tell you that you are the one I have dreamed of, and the one I have always wanted to love. But I cannot, simply because you have no room for me in your heart. 

You keep teasing me about the boy whom I have once mentioned to be The Ideal Guy for me. That was before I met you. Before I knew you existed and way before I found out how safe I felt in your strong arms. 

When he ruined me with his indecisiveness and selfish acts, you were there to watch me pick myself up and nurse myself back to sanity. I was a total wreck, and yet you stayed by my side. 

Now, I want to tell you I have finally found my destination, and my journey to you has been a thunderstorm masked in a sunny weather. But I am not your destination and your journey has a different path than mine. I cannot tell you that, and I cannot tell you that you are my home. 

What's a home when the resident and the owner are two different people? I am your resident, and you are the owner. My occupancy is only on rental basis, and someday I will have to move out and leave no trace of me behind. But I would always look back and think of the home I once knew and lived in. 

So, I will only smile whenever you say that you are not my ideal guy. God knows how false that is. I fight with you and argue even about the smallest things, not because I am bored or I have nothing to do. It's because I am afraid of losing you. Terribly and deathly afraid of losing someone like you. 

I give my all to you; my time, my attention, my affection and my love. Sometimes, I become cold and distant, not because I am egocentric, but because I cannot tell you how much I need you without sounding clingy. I don't want you, I need you. 

But you are not my home, and I am not your destination. So, we can never walk the same path and finally meet halfway. 

I love you, and I have to let you go someday. 

If these wings could fly.

When I think of love, I think of sunny days. When I think of sunny days, I think of summer, and how its presence makes those who have been waiting for it just happy. Nothing else, just pure happiness being under the sun and just another season away from falling leaves.

And when I think of falling leaves, I think of you. I think about all the highs and lows of our relationship, and how the emotions change just like the autumn leaves. I think about how sunny it was when we first started, and that the days just got brighter. Then, I think about how the cold took over the warmth in our souls, and we both started to fall apart beneath each other's wings. 

Sunny days are over, and we're both now desperately covering ourselves up with layers of reasons to keep our souls warm. Sometimes, I don't even know why I hold on to you, or why I choose to be with you. I keep building walls around me, and somehow you manage to creep through the cracks like a ray of sunshine. 

The higher my walls get, the harder it is for me to stop you from looking through my cracks. I tell myself that if my walls were high enough, no one could harm me. But no matter how high my walls are, or how well-sealed they are, I will always let you in through the front door.

You taught me a lot about patience and love, in ways I could have never learned them myself. I learn that to love means to not need to be with someone, and to be patient is to be able to withstand absence and distance. You made me realize love is not a solid block, but rather it is fluid like an essence that takes shape of any mold it is poured in to. It changes, and it can never be defined by a single person. It feels different each time, and it tastes different. 

You make me realize that I can love someone who is absent emotionally and still be sane at the end of the day. You make me realize that not all physical touch and reaffirmations mean something. You make me realize I am selfish and obstinate, and I am vulnerable, too. I used to think I was indestructible. But now I know I am just as weak as the autumn leaves. I fall, and when I do, I fall hard. 

Most of all, you make me realize, people are indeed selfish. No matter who they are, people have needs, and those needs supersede love. The need to feel wanted, to feel superior, to feel lust, and to feel alive. Anything to feel complete. 

Soon, the winter will come, and I hope we both will weather the storm just fine. 

Otherwise, come spring, one of us will be drowning in the pool of melted ice.