The Visit













You still get thought of somehow. Your dark brooding look sometimes pass my mind and once again I begin to imagine what you are doing at the time you decided to visit my peace. Sometimes, I caught myself thinking if I also enter your mind and if you still miss me as you always say you do. Its been almost two years now and I hardly remember what you look like or if I will see you in the crowd will I ever recognise you? Will you recognise me? And if you do, will you pass by without a glance?

I wonder if I made the right decision for not going back, but I hope you understand my reasons for not doing so. We bring the worst of each other, but then again, this burning desire keep us aflame, alive, real.

I wish you could have just loved me enough.

Istanbul




Once upon a time, I believe that somewhere in this city, we will make it. You and I, in this dog-eat-world proving the cynic and the jaded wrong and that everything is possible in the realm of the superficial. You are my poorly written history and this love affair took its toll on me. Yet, I regret the time that you are the risk I didn’t take. You are a lot of things, but I realised I never took the leap nor the plunge to be truly be with you. Maybe because I am scared and this feeling that you evoked; the need that soon I will realise and share with you. You were intense to the point of being controlling. You wrap your rage in velvet softness, yet I would find myself recoiling. I know you will break me, you did so once, and you gradually put me together, piece by piece, in your own phase and by that, you declared your sense of ownership. I, who breathe on my independence, let you take the reigns and that time, we were happy, I was happy to sit on the sidelines as I watch you make things work out, for me mostly.

Yet we were wrong, we are both volatile and untrusting. We want to be each others' adrenaline and we fall short. We would walk out on each other, slam the car doors, slam the goddamn phone and I would close my eyes and struggle not to cry. You would swear and cursed and pull me to your chest and wrap me violently I would gasped for breath. I would demand for my freedom, you will coldly turn your back, taunt me with your silence and we will both sleep with our prides and wake up making love to a wall.

By now, I realised you are my definition, and I would be that one who probably got away. Maybe we will make it someday, but not in this city, hurtful as it might sound; maybe not in this lifetime. But I will always remember you with fondness and perhaps, regret, and I would kiss the soils of Istanbul in homage to you.

We Will Always Have Paris













Tell me what you can say about perfection and finding love, beauty and grace under one sight. We never get to see Casablanca together, I was comfortably nestled in the cradle of your presence, I was overwhelmed and basking in the glory of your eyes, your attention and I crawled inside your brain and curled up.

We talked about everything and nothing, about love and our fears, the past that would somehow creep in slow crescendo, obliterating our senses. You saw my pain wrapped in the facade of non-chalance and you slowly dust away the jaded years and the childhood fears. I saw your tinge of anger and regrets and I would slowly envelop you in my arms, planting small kisses in your temples, urging, patient and no judgement. Somehow we are two damaged beings, meeting in a common ground, two cords entwined, binded. We are both broken and beautiful in our own way, but what is most exceptional is finding the pretty in our cracks and jagged pieces and fitting it snugly together. We bear our imperfection with pride and let the light shine on these wreckage.

I don't know a lot of things, but I know about love and distance like the back of my hand. We will both brave time zones and have faith in this slow burn and wanting that keep us aflame. Someday seem to be so far away but I will patiently fold my hands and wait for the tide and time to come, until I find you standing, amber eyes aglowing, waiting and your perpetual smile causing ripples in my wake.


Illusion












One year ago this day was the the last time I saw you. I can still vividly remember every nuance of every detail of that meeting. I dressed carefully and made myself up, in the aim to impress you, and I was not disappointed. I remember how you held my gaze, appraised me with your eyes, fiery with passion, your lips quivered as you touched mine. I always loved the way you smell, clean and masculine like everything that you are. You gave me a bunch of pink roses that night, together with a pink stuffed rabbit I now kept at the back of my closet. For months I held on that stuffed animal, everytime I missed you. I wore your favourite perfume that night, Incanto Shine by Ferragamo. I know for a fact that you want me, you were very eloquent with that. Your touch evoked wanton abandon in me, forcing me to cast aside my inhibitions, surrendering to the call of your desire, to your touch, to your strong willed dominance. What went wrong was my fault. I could not give what you want. Everything that you believe about me are enveloped with lies. False promises of my doing.

Yet, as much as I do not want to, I had fallen for you -- hard. You were the only one who stood by me, in every tempest, and you calmed my storms. You were the only one who understood me, our conversations bring such joy, such satisfaction, we were never out of something to talk about. That was something. Yet, I cannot bring to say that I love you. I can throw those words anytime to anyone, say it non chalantly as if it is the most normal thing to say. But with you, I held it back, afraid that I might be imagining things, afraid that I might be saying something I would regret. But not saying it gave me frustrations now. But it is all too late. I pushed you away and I guess I had ran out of chances anymore. You have been patient for a long time and I had abused that. You have been there but I took it for granted. And I cannot stand the silence anymore. I must go for the sake of my sanity, of my pride.

As the old adage goes, I love you, good bye.