“If you got wings I need someone too”, I was told these words in my dream. I had yet another dream about you. You had been haunting my dreams all week. And I’m scared. I’m honestly very scared. I’m even scared to show I’m scared. I probably don’t make any sense. But I’m undecided. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or if it is a bad thing. I all I know is that my everything is wanting to see you.
I’m still scared what if you push me away? What will I do then? How would I live? Would I go back to the way I was? Just like I was before I met you.
Before I met you. My life was this linear equation. Just a plan old y = MX + c. A straight line. My heart had beat like a linear equation back then. As my life did everything was straight forward. No turns. No corners. No dead ends. No ups. No downs.
So that’s exactly how I saw life. It had no turns. No corners. No dead ends. No up. No downs. Just a plan old straight line. Not the same equation I have come to love.
Then when I first met you. I experienced my first bump. Oh and I loved that. I regret nothing. Stealing your bigga naks was the best thing that I have ever done.
And like that, just like that my plan old linear equation. Metamorphosed into a parabola equation. It went from y = MX + c to y = ax² + bx + c. This life with the you had a bump. It was exciting. It was new. And it interest me.
And then when we got to know each other my life went from a every cute function to something more problematic. Something more interesting. Something more exciting. When we became friends my life changed from a very cute function to a problematic, melodramatic calculus mathematical equation.
Its got ups. Its got downs. Its got corners. Its got dead end. I know it sounds whack. But this is one equation I will not back out of. This y = ax³ + bx² + CX + d is my life now. And I would not trade it for all the luxury in the whole world and a bag of bigga naks. I will always be proud of this equation even if it ends with no solution.
I would love it. I mean I already do love it. I love the pain. I love the jealousy. I love the hurt. I love the trust. I love the obsession. I love the ups. I love the corners. I love the dead ends. I will not give it up for anything. I will not give up on you. Never.
YOU ARE READING
knowing just how to love you
PoetryLetters to a loved one is so rare in the twentieth century. Rare like their friendship. Zubaidah writes letters. Zubaidah writes letters to her best friend Uzair. She speaks her mind in them. She loves writing them. It makes her feel special and imp...
