After all, we are what we feel - our attitudes calibrate our morality, our emotions dictate our choices. It may be enslavement or empowerment, that our entire lives wend their sinuous paths according to these thoughts and feelings. I guess this is why we learn to listen to our heads just as much as we align with our hearts.
There are nights I dream of us together, stringing the warmth of innocent longing with the weight of blissless anxiety, into something with real meaning, real potency. We have shared so much colour and life over the time we've known each other - the animated late-night chats, the intricate memories - that I can no longer distinguish my heart’s delusion from my mind’s paranoia.
The image I paint of us as a couple isn’t one fuelled by teenage exuberance with endless kissing and sleeping together. I just want to hold your hand and take you to see sunsets and starfishes by the beach and parkways strewn with Autumn leaves. I want to lie by your side to admire opalescent clouds in the sunshine and galaxies bathed in moonlight. That to me is love, and love to me is perfection.
It’s the future I’ve architectured for just the two of us. I’ll never know for sure, and my heart and mind alone will never produce the answer. Maybe I’m destined to dream forever.