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And sometimes, out of nowhere, when it's raining and the temperature drops, when i'm safely tucked in under a warm blanket, thoughts of you come in waves and pull out a storm of emotions from underneath.

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Lips like a diary written and narrated. Your smile is my comfort chapter, the one i read and re-read, the page I turn to on a tiring day.

But lips that hold back sobs, quivering and sighing on a bad day, that's the chapter I treasure most. The one I never want to turn away from, even by mistake.

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Won't you give it a chance? I've been falling alseep to thoughts of you for too long to end up never knowing how it feels to be wrapped up in your warmth.

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Let's give it another try. I know I can do it.

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The 'trying' takes too long, met enough people telling me it's the part that matters most.

I'm tired of trying, I need it to happen.

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Why does the world get to decide when you've made it?

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What's your love language?

Me - Rembering, avoiding, memorising your little habits. The way your eyes widened in panic in front of my awkwardly executed playful side eye. I become over ambitious when you're around, I always forget I lack the basic skills to come across as the mischievous person I want to be in your eyes.

Us - Linking arms, holding hands. Tugging at the small zip chain of your bag. "You're annoying" but I hope you annoy me more, I hope there never comes a day when we become so distant we pick at our words, scared even the smallest mistakes will make scars we can't fix and there will be no next time to talk it out 'cause we never talk anymore.

You and me - Inserting little words of compliments whenever your name comes up. Typing out long paras of thoughts to your memories at midnight just so it feels like you're still just an arm distance away. Just so it feels like I still know how your day went, how many cups of tea you drank, what time you went home, what your mother said to you that made you laugh. Just so it feels like I still matter to you.

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Can I think about you a lot? A lot more than i've been doing?

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Have we met before? You smell oddly familiar, like a cup of warm tea and the sunlight on your face makes me want to lean in for a hug.

Have we met before? You smell like freshly washed laundry dried under the sun and the warmth from where our arms touch makes me feel like it's safe to fall asleep next to you; head on your shoulders without even a hint of an anxious thought keeping me from closing my eyes.

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I like you a little. A little because i'm not sure if i'm allowed to like you a lot.

We're standing around in groups but it feels like there's only you and me. You recall small things about me and my heart does a little flip because you took the time to notice those things and it flops just as quick thinking you must be that type of person; too nice to let anything pass by, too kind to not make friends with everyone.

I like you a little. A little because if I don’t keep reminding myself, everyone else might realize it's a lot.

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About me:

random thoughts typical feelings they call it love

Writing has always been my favorite way to pass time but words don't come so easily anymore after years of putting it aside.

Attempting to write more and hoping to see some improvement.

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Brown eyes that mirror thoughts; eyes that round up when intriqued, eyes that close to almost a slit when playful, eyes that sparkle with mischief even before the words come out of her mouth.

I play along when she has a joke in mind, she doesn't know her eyes are giving it all away. The way her lips curl up and the way her nose crinkles, the way her voice carries her intent- light and full of laughter. She doesn't know i've spent years learning her and can read her through and through.

Here she comes, those coffee powder eyes with twinkling lights beneath it. Here she comes and starts with "Hey have you heard. . ?" Here she comes and there's happiness in my blood, it's going all around.

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Now i'm busy avoiding your eyes while we both pretend the coffee machine is the most interesting thing in the room to avoid the tense silence.

It's just that even a glance from you gets my mind clouded, as foggy as the scene outside the window today.

That's why I fumbled when you appeared out of nowhere and greeted me with a wave. I laughed and replied, "I'm doing good. Thank goodness the weather's pleasant today."

You smiled at me and agreed politely but I could see the confusion in your eyes because the rain has both of us looking like wet rats and shivering in front of the coffee machine.

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Dream. But not the one we get after sleeping.

The dream that happens before you fall asleep after wrapping yourself up in a cozy ball of blanket or after waking up in the morning before you leave your bed to face the world.

The dream that happens in a classroom while staring blankly at the board in front, your eyes not taking in even a single word or when you're listening to a song and you repeat it three times because you keep missing your favorite part.

The dream that starts off as a thought which starts building its own plot as you drift off farther and farther, the comfort of going to that special place where you've narrated a thousand scenarios with no audience, it's your own and yet it's not purely by you. The familiarity of a place that surprises you with the thoughts you didn't even realize you were capable of forming.

That's the place I like the most. But for now stuck chasing a worldly dream to survive like any other human being. It's been 10 months. Wish me luck.

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You can.