"Will you need me now, you'll find the way somehow You want it too, I want it too."
This is for him.
You made me smile. You made me laugh. I wouldn't say you made me cry, that's because I was just crying for you.
You know every single thing about me. But you didn't know that I was disappointed when you didn't text goodnight. I'd cling on to my handphone, hoping it would buzz. But that didn't happen. Often I'd drift to sleep clutching my phone, missing you. I don't blame you. I never would. You had fallen asleep. That isn't wrong.
I always hang around my phone now. That's something I never would do if you didn't "happen". "Happen" as in, us. Whenever my phone buzzed, I would hope that when I flip my phone open, it would be from you. You were the most important to me.
You occupied my every thought. I would think: What would he do if he saw me doing this? Would it be okay with him? Would he like this colour on me? It wasn't a bad thing. I liked it.
But sometimes it got too much. I would suddenly get moody just because I hadn't heard from him. And that was just this morning. He controlled my mood palatte. If he was hurt, the skies from my view would be a dull blue. I knew if I had seen it from another side, I would have seen a sky of palest blue and the rich, orange sun setting. He gotten that position. When I snuck a glance at the cat outside, it was like he smiled at me.
But it's not all about him. I made mistakes. If I didn't felt like it, I wouldn't reply his messages. And he's giving me a taste of that right now. It isn't nice, but I brought this on me. He was always the one who called. Even in the end, he was the one who called to set things straight. He was the one who paid. He gave me credit. And-- Okay, I won't get there. I'm sure I let him down too, as pleasing wasn't really my good points. I hurt him too much it hurts for me to even get to that part. And both times was me. I did it. Like a knife.
Yet still, I find him the greatest guy I know. He understood me. Silences were comfortable with him. There wasn't small-talk, not once. He was sweet, thoughtful, romantic(haha, don't deny that), knows what I want, therefore-awesome(I seriously am picky), the epitome of perfection. And he still is.
I loved that he calls during the day. I loved his small laugh. And I didn't know what was he laughing about. I loved that he knew I was sleepy yet I still wanted to talk. I loved that he sang. To me. I loved that he liked the songs I like. I loved that he reads. I loved that he would go "awwwww..." I loved that he always thought about me first. I loved him.
And in my heart, deep down in my heart, I know, I always will.
How can I forget all the sweetest words he said to me? How can I forget he sent the card early? How can I forget how he sang "Dance Inside"? How can forget the way he said "I love you"? How can I ever?
I don't know how. I don't even know whether I want to. I didn't delete his messages. I didn't want to let go what may be the last words he says.
"As I go, remember all the simple things you know, My mind is just a crutch and I still hope, That you will miss me when I'm gone This is the last song." -"The Last Song" The All-American Rejects
I still hope that one day, I would get to hold his hand, hold him close, and when that day comes, I will never let go.
Saturday, January 24, 2009,9:53 PM |
i am fifteen years old, and fell in love with poetry recently.
okay, and maybe not only with that.
feel free to be inspired by the world. don't lock all your emotions inside you, express them and share.
share with someone who listens.
with the world.
the world needs more inspirations than tears, you know.
"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."
thankyou for visiting. I hope something here makes you smile.