I've been too busy living on the train, speeding ahead far too fast to enjoy the breeze caressing my hair. I am ever aware of the minutes that tick by, time is slipping through my fingers and I know can't have it back. Sometimes I do something about it, other times I don't. Often, I pause and think, "My goodness I really do need to slow down". I can't even finish my thoughts. They lie, strewn around carelessly in this exhausted mind and I can't be bothered to smoothen the creases.
Yet I am still happy. I can't not be- not after lulling around in the void for ages. I'm different now, stronger. Like an alloy. Oh, to be surrounded by people whom I venerate. The ones who make me laugh 'til my sides feel bruised. Its that pain again- the good kind of pain. People who offer their bones to support me even when I can stand on my own. People whose smiles make me smile and whose joys and sorrows I share. People whose thoughts and sentiments are akin to my own, our frequencies alike. People whose existence embellish my days and are whom I regard as treasures more precious than fancy stones.
I live for the painful kind of laughter. I live for the impromptu walks and confessional chats. Standing in the snaky queue, waiting to buy a chocolate croissant to ease 2pm hunger pangs. Iced coffee to evade slumbers in lectures. I live for those windy afternoons- sitting at the empty grandstand with a dear friend. And those evenings when everyone gathers to watch a football match. Sitting on the synthetic field, outstretched on the vast green. Taking polaroids by the red track. Blithe memories delineated in film. Sun-soaked and joy-filled, overflowing to the brim.
I owe it to them. The ones who make my head light-headed with giddy happiness and illuminate my world in all its entirety.
Which brings me to my next point- you. I can't explain what I feel about you, neither do I understand what I feel. But what I do know is that I like the way you laugh and when your hair is a mess. Its endearing,- imperfection. I like when you wait for me to catch up so we can talk. Even for a while. Those moments are bliss. I enjoy basking in your presence. I feel strangely at ease, our footsteps synchronised like the similarities we share. I like how I don't quite know you that well-yet. Right now you are an unfinished novel- a mystery- awaiting to unfold, to be figured out. And for some odd reason, in the quiet- there's more to you than meets the eye. I know you don't wonder about me like I do about you but its all I can wish for- to be in your 3am thoughts.
