A Random Letter, 06/05/16 – 03:38 AM

This is a random note written for a random person who I now adore as a friend. What happened in the past stays in the past. I told myself to save this writing for a sunny day when nothing about this matters anymore. 

 


May 06, 2016 – 03:38 AM

It took me a while to get here, 4 months since the last day of November, to calmly and slowly put my thoughts down into words without tucking pain in-between the letters.
We were classmates who walked together on the empty streets at 2AM looking for a drink to share. We were buddies who stayed out in the chilly weather of early December nights when you asked me to promise not to leave. We were dates who giggled in the phone and continuously told each other to hang up first, then struggled to make it to our morning class a few hours after. Perhaps we were something else , when you kissed me in the midst of those cloudy white sheets. Then the next day you looked at me as a friend, and suddenly my black eyes turned so dark.
Don’t get me wrong, I have not, and will never blame you for walking away from me and everything we could have been. I am not upset even when the reason you left in the middle of that night wasn’t you or me but someone else. You were confused, you were clueless, you didn’t know much just like every other at your age and I understand. You just were not that into me and I understand that too. If there is anything to blame, I blame myself for letting you see me at my most beautifully vulnerable state, for I was a girl in love, and you did not deserve that ticket for the show.
wallpaper
Yet the tornado you formed in my head is the same storm that keeps my heart beating. I had forgotten what it is like to be inspired but for the first time in many years I felt the passion to put imagery onto paper again. So I started tracing down the moments when your head lay upon my chest and how my hands curled up in yours. I might not have you but lines and words are mine. And I will use them to capture you between the pages of my old sketchbook.
I don’t remember how many times I’ve tried to swallow that typhoon you caused down my throat. It just kept coming back and invoked all my senses. Now I feel everything so deeply , hoping to find something that is big enough, powerful enough to suppress this sickness of an emotion. I went out more, met new people, doing things against the rules I usually complied to. But it was not enough and so I began traveling to different cities, woke up in a new country every week in hope of escaping. You made me look out beyond the horizon searching for a cure. I would stare in awe at the great designs and wonder what it would be like if you were there to share the view. Then at some points, as sudden as it had struck, I fell in love with running under the early spring rain, the glowing droplets of sunshine on a chilly afternoon, the paintings on the ceiling of an old European palace… All the things I did without you. Then I knew what I wanted – I wanted to see the world.
Sunny day in Copenhagen
So you see, I will never regret us, for the love I have for you brought me a greater love – one for myself, for the walks and the rides and the long flights across the continents , for all the littlest beauties lurking in the corners of a strange town. You resurrected the artist in me and swirled colors into my life, although not in the way I would have wanted. Now I can give all my writings an ending and all my paintings a finish. The one thing I regret was not having the courage to tell you I love you when I had the chance. Maybe I never will. But I will scatter small bits of this feeling in each city I visit. I will leave traces of you in every footprints. Because someday when I come back to that same ground, I will remember the bewildered early twenties of when I got lost in you but found the world.

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