Constellation
I’ve never thought of meeting someone who’s on the other side of the world who would get a hold of me, like you did.
It’s been six years since I’ve known you, five since I’ve loved you. How young were we when we first saw each other? We saw each other pass through early teen’s, to young adulthood and when we had thought this love had vanished like stardust into the air, we found ourselves in combustion again. We were a supernova, bigger and brighter than before.
I still remember all the little things, since the very first. I remember your smile, I remember your voice. The songs we shared, the food you like, what scares you and what makes you grin like you’re a small child in a candy shop. I’m a book being written by you by chapters, throughout the years. You write who you are, slowly, on my skin, each time our eyes meet again. I’ve discovered the constellations on your body, that guide me through my days. I’ve realized that the sound of happiness, of home, is everytime you laugh over the silliest of things (ACHMED).
There’s so much I want and have to say to you, but have no idea how. I lack the words, the metaphors. I ramble onto the paper through letters and poems, I fill notebooks with words of you, I take pictures of what you would love, I arrange mixtapes with songs that speak me of you. And I’m happy with the simple thought of knowing that we live in the same world, under the same skies. To know you exist.
You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, Chamomile.
If I could, this new year, I would wish to be holding you in my arms as we watch the fireworks. To be the one to take you home, to be the one to take away your nightmares and fears at night. Please, always let the night be ours. Let the stars be our guides and the music the soundtrack to our story. Let the lights that shine on your ceiling be our memories and the cigarettes the drug of our memories.
All I wish is for you to be truly happy one day, free from the chains that hold you back from being yourself with other people, from doing the things you truly want to do. I’ll always be here to catch you when you fall. I’m here to remind you that you’re loved, when you feel unloved. I’m here, with arms open, when you want to come back home. You choose your soulmates, you told me once. We choose who to love, but not who we fall for. And I still choose to love you, after everything.
In the end, I still lack the words I wish I had to explain you what goes inside of me or the ways you make me feel. I choke and I can’t explain myself properly. So I’ll keep writing you, hoping you’ll read these letters.
Always yours,
“Dork”.
Ps: I miss the simple moments we spent together more than anything. 🌻
