paradise | letters to Him √

7. i need you.

What was it about you that drew me to you?

Was it the way your hands drew delicate, golden flowers on my lips, sealing them tight with the pretense of a love untold?

Was it your laugh, how melodious it was like the sweetness of an autumn windchime calling my name? How much I liked it when I was the one to make you laugh like that?

Was it your smile, how you knew the impeccable timing of when to do it so that I could smile with you? How your mouth quirked up when I threw my arms around you, buried my face in the crook of your neck.

(The scent of you, a mix of ocean and the same flowers you drew on my lips.)

"I'll never stop loving you," I said. You did not reply, only stroked my hair with the touch I loved, and I forgot about that moment until now, because your touch was all I needed.

But I think I did need that reply, at least in secret.

Was it my own selfishness, the selfishness of needing you to myself? The unbearable thought of you gracing someone else with your windchime laugh?

Does it matter now? Do our old memories, any evidence of what we used to be, matter? It does not seem like it does. At least, not to you.

Don't you look at someone else now? The way you used to look at me has trailed along to another person, but I couldn't admit it to myself. The glass that replaces your face when you look at me now replaces my heart with that same glass, and mind you, it is fragile. It is thin, and it will wear soon enough, and I'm not sure how much strain it can take.

Why did it have to be you?

Why can't I leave you?