I miss you.
In the pause between laughter when I’m out with friends but not with you;
In the silence of my room when I instinctively reach for your hand and found nothing but air;
In the dark of the night when your absence suffocates me.
I pine for you.
For the way your eyes light up in mirth when you laugh, which I found inexplicably adorable;
For the low tone and austere manner of your voice, which never fail to make my heart goes pitter patter;
And how charming you are when you’re absorbed in the screen, like nothing else matters.
I yearn for you.
Like a tear stained face yearn for rain to wash everything away;
Like buried bud in the snow yearn for spring so it could blossom;
Like a caged phoenix yearn to spread its wings and fly off to the vast sky.
I crave for you.
For the taste of your sweet lips and gentle fingers on my skin;
For the high you brought with each stolen moments and secret reprieve;
And the blissful sensation of knowing I’m safe and sound in your arms.
I found myself wishing for your presence in each of my days.
And sometimes I wonder if you long for me…
The way I long for you.
À la mort.