Collection 2017, Spring: Unperturbed

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There are only three pages left in my sketchbook. I have about two other filled watercolour sketchbooks that I keep at home from my past teenage years, a hobby I abandoned for much too long now. It surprises me that I'm going to fill this one so fast, but in the same time I really was just dumb for not buying the kinds of sketchbooks with more paper... but watercolour paper is kind of thick, so even with only ten pages, it already takes up the space of a 50-page normal sketchbook. It's only been two months. It's almost summer too, by the way. The spring feel to our place would change and hopefully my relationship with him could change. As in maybe we can open up to each other more, maybe share more of our thoughts and feelings and wishes without talking about ourselves... without Involving our backgrounds or personal life in our rather philosophical conversations. I drew two hands linked by pinkies, as if promising each other on the previous page... colourless. The lettering was in glittery pink. Well this sketchbook turned out to have more pink in it than I imagined. I never found the colour very appealing before. 

It's been three weeks. He didn't leave any notes or anything. I feel empty (even if I brought mochi, my puppy stuffed toy). I can't even write my thoughts properly anymore. Usually I would write whatever pops off the top of my head but now I can't think at all. These sentences I write have pauses in between them because he isn't here and I don't know what to do or say. But do you know what? I believe I didn't only fall in love with the moments we shared up here at our place. I believe I have fallen for us. Not him, but us. We're two flawed people who become perfect when together. Problem-free, happy, relaxed... and a type of relationship probably only the universe understands. The universe who moved for us to find each other. And find fate who is probably envying us right now for being so well-matched (?) AAAAH I can't think. My vocabulary is all over the place. The part of my brain which generates pretty words is malfunctioning. I should stop instead of ruining this painting. But if I stop now... what am I supposed to do until the sun sets? It's so grey and cold here without him. And I'm so dumb for not realising that all along... the one bringing me happiness and peace each Sunday aren't the sunsets I watch but being with him. That what kept me alive or attracted to this place was him. That seeing him again would be the thing that can motivate me through the next week. That my mind becomes still when I think of us.

Strange. How he could have been another normal person in my life but ended up leaving an impression on me that stood out most. Like sitting on a hill where there are only daisies on the grass but then getting up and wandering around to find a rose hiding away yet vibrantly showing off its deep red hue in the midst of all the Identical flowers. He became that flower. The single and lonely rose in the garden of daisies. My sensual and sophisticated vocabulary is back and I don't know what happened but

Qwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnm JIMIN IS HERE WHAT IS HE DOING WITH PINK HAIR AND BLACK JEANS AND AN ORANGE SWEATSHIRT AND A GIRL'S KITTY EARS HEADBAND HE LOOKS LIKE A CALICO CAT I MISSED HIM AAH I'LL CONTINUE LATER AT HOME BYE

You didn't continue, huh? Do I really make you that excited? I miss you.