I love you. I really do.

I’ll say it as many times as it takes for you to finally realize how lucky I am to have you. There are two sides to every coin, two versions of the same story. Well, this is mine. I don’t love you for just the person you are. I love you for the person I am with you. All my flaws seem to melt away the moment I see you. My fears, turned away by the hand that warms the heart. I yearn for nothing more than to be with you, now and forevermore.

Yet, sometimes, I fear, for you’ll realize that the light that beckons at the end of the night isn’t always the dawn. I fear, for you’ll understand the plight of the featherless bird that learns to sway with the wind. I fear, for you’ll finally see that the sky isn’t as spotless as it seems and so isn’t love. It isn’t just a misappropriation supplemented by a Freudian analogy, it’s an ensnarement. Once caught,  it peels the skin to the very core, till it’s bare to the basics. And yet, freedom isn’t a journey for the heart to undertake anymore. Paradoxical as it seems, it’s an expression, lingering at my lips to blissfully reach yours. Entangled in its wrath, stagnation is all that this heart hopes for as the greatest entrapment can be overcome by just laying still, amongst the ashes, knowing that the phoenix will take form again. And, so I wish for it to take flight, to reach you, as but my embodiment.

Words are falling short of feelings and lines, of love. But, I hope that you can see through my eyes, flow through my veins and write through my implacable hands, for there is nothing I’d rather do than love you, all my life.

I love you. I really do.


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