It is 11.11 PM and I am writing about you. This is January 12th 2016 and the 122nd after the very first time I saw you in front of my boarding house. You were asleep, I know, you sent me that cute sticker, Bony and Cony hugging each other.
Allow me to write this while you’re still mine. You are probably about to go since it is tiring to be with someone as childish, as selfish, and as spoiled as me. When you’re gone, I’ll be damned to write about how much I love someone who isn’t even mine. I need to write this, you know that, or my heart will explode.
One hundred and twenty two days ago, we met. You asked me to go watching a movie with you, I said yes. One hour before the movie started, you arrived in front of my boarding house. I went out and saw you there. I even can recall how warm your smile is at that time, and perhaps I started to fall in love with it since then. You had kind of heartwarming smile that awakened butterflies in my stomach, but those butterflies were not flying scared just like what they usually did when I see someone I love. My butterflies flew calmly, but happily; and trust me, they still do. I approached you, I with my pink blouse and you with your black jacket. We did not even have a chance to say proper hi because I just hopped directly onto your motorcycle. We were both shy, I know.
Let me skip the parts how we went to the movie and how the movie was. On our way home, I hugged you. And it just felt right. I had no idea that comforts could come that fast. I really had no idea I would feel that way with someone I barely knew two days before. And yes, your scent. I’d been smelling it in the first second I hugged you. And, yes, sweetheart, that becomes my favorite scent, after my home’s.
I was strong before, you know. I was childish, I was spoiled, I was selfish. But, after I met you, you made me realize that those stupid habits are worse. I am not so strong anymore, I depend on you. I am selfish to possess you, and it drives me crazy. I know how uncomfortable that is to be busy and someone keeps asking for your attention. I know how it feels to not being able to give something that our loved one asks; it feels terrible. I am trying to endure, trust me. I keep trying to tell myself those quotes about how to set free someone you love, how to let go, how to be happy with myself, you name it, I read it all. But, it does not help things. I need you, not those quotes (here I go again with my whining).
I do really have no idea I am able to love someone this much. But, this kind of love, it is selfish. I am trying not to be, and it is hard. This kind of love is killing me, and perhaps it is killing you too. And hurting you is my nightmare, I would not do that.
So, tell me, honey, how can I love you by keeping you happy and without hurting me?
If you choose to leave, I would suffer, for real. Your smile and your scent would go. My reality would fall apart. My world would go black. But, this life is a mystery, isn’t it? This life is a gigantic spider web and we have idea where things will take us. If you choose to leave, I would get hurt, but I’ll be fine. Many people will prevent me to commit suicide, don’t worry.
I love you, all with this psycho side of me.