• Dear You,

    by  • December 11, 2017 • * Safe for Work *, Uncategorized • 1 Comment

    Maybe it was I who got it all wrong. It was I who read too much from your actions and words, it was I who hoped too much to be kept by you when you only want me to be yours when convenient. You were the cup of tea I always reach out in the morning to keep me invigorated, and I was the umbrella you just get whenever you need.

    Maybe it was I who gave too much. It was I who gave you every piece of me without expecting anything in return. It was I who would have reached for the stars if I could, cause I know how much you adore them. It was I who would give you the last piece of cookie I have even I haven’t eaten the whole day, cause I want to see you full.

    Maybe it was I who couldn’t sleep because of you. You were the only one in my mind, and God knows how much I want to be you. Every moment, I always yearn to be beside you. It was I who played all those melodies and dedicate them all to you. It was I who wrote you countless letters to tell you how much I love you.

    Maybe it was only I.

    Cause you cannot love me the way I love you. You can’t give me things without expecting anything. You wouldn’t reach for the stars no matter how much I adore them. You would take the last cookie even if I haven’t eaten all the day.

    You can sleep at night even if I am not well. You don’t think of me. You don’t even love me.

    Why do we have to fall in love with people who do not know how to love someone back? Why do we end up hurting in the end when all that we do is to love sincerely? Why do we have to write songs to people who do not even appreciate you?

    Why did I even fall in love with you?

    One Response to Dear You,

    1. awww
      December 24, 2017 at 2:16 pm

      a few years ago someone played a song and then told me they wrote it for me. My head was dizzy and I knew my face was flushed and I showed indifference because I was, what am I trying to say here? I was floored that they would do that, but I couldnt let them know. It was too hot, to intense. I couldn’t take the heat so I ran from the kitchen so to speak, or write, I guess.

      if i were in that moment again, now years later, i dont know how i would react. but id like to have the chance to tell this person what it meant to me. and i am sorry.

    Leave a Reply