I fell in love with love songs lately. They sing it so well as though they are telling their own story. I wonder how will our love song sound like, then I wonder how will it be possible to put all that happened in a song of mere minutes yet it seemed like each song say enough to tell the whole story.
I especially love song that come with a deep cut in the heart, no matter how sanguine I appear to be, I appreciates the melancholic part of me. Love songs became an addiction, the way they sing with so much emotion that it is painful to listen, yet at the end of the song you find yourself smiling with tears. How could we be fighting fiction all along but end up being a part of the story ourselves? Could we have been like those in the songs?
Maybe it was just me all along. I thought I was simply looking at a beautiful picture in a gallery, to have look at it so often that you became more than a habit. A distanced admiration that I cling on to so much. Till the distances dissolves in, till barely anything is left to keep the mildest relationship, but it was too late. However much it burdens my heart, no matter how much struggles were made, you became too painful to be let go of.
Waiting upon your return every time, for the light to shine through your windows. To pray for you each night, to take a detour back to every place that we share the briefest memories, to speak to you through the wind in the softest voice, and above all the faith that I keep in something so vague. I enjoyed every moment of it. Be it alone or with you. I try to remember every smile, every detail, everything that I can, fearing to lose any bit of it.
I will be sure, be brave and be wise, to love you as you should be loved, with every ounce of strength and support I can muster. To wait upon each one of your returns.