I like things being real.
I like that even though we were meeting after twenty months, we spent exactly half our time in disagreement with each other. We didn’t rose tint those ten days away, where we saw an argument, we seized it and devoured it. I liked that.
However, there is a part of me that does not comprehend real, a part that lives in its own time and harps along its own tune. A part that when said forever, meant forever. No, not just a considerably long period of time, not just till forever makes logical sense, but actually forever. Ofcourse I could only promise you forever hoping that it comes to fruition but if you really really believe in your promise, it doesn’t leave you even if you want it to.
I still remember you, I still think of you. With every breath of my being, I still `cherish you like an heirloom.
Some people understand this, some don’t but each time I find a believer incredulity slithers away, making way for the nascent of our forever. Once again, I find it.
Once again, I find you.
You are a part of what makes me alive, you are a part of what makes me who I am, you are a part of the dreams I can dream, you are my hopes, you are.
As each year waddles by they say that you should shrink down to a peanut in my mind, but little do they know that you are only blown up bigger and bigger each year.
I don’t love you, but I will always love you.