A Lover's Note
This is a note to someone special.
You know who you are. Your name has been burnt across my heart. I don’t know what I am trying to tell you here, save that I am a fool. I don’t want to lose you. Not now, not ever. Without you my life loses meaning. Sure I wouldn’t stop doing what I am. I’d keep going, but, to what end? Everyone needs a purpose and you give me mine.
I don’t really know how to tell you how much I love you. The word love has been so over-used in this modern-world that we live in. I myself have over-used it, not once, but on several occasions. I wish I could somehow show you that all those times were wrong and this is right. But hey, I guess you must be thinking what makes this right. What makes you different?
I really don’t know how to explain this to you. I wrote several different lines and crossed them out. None are the answer. None of them can truly express what I feel. Why are words so pathetic? Or maybe it’s just me. I don’t know.
All I can say is what I always tell you anyways. Wait, and Let time show you how you are different. You are the one. I see that but you don’t. I wish you did. Then you would understand me better.
If I was superman I’d take you flying and get you flowers from some distant world. If only I could do something like that, but, I’m just an ordinary guy. Just another guy, living a normal life. I can’t really do anything that over the top. I guess most people can’t to be honest. But come on, I’m serious, I really do wish I could have done those things for you (I’ve been too obsessed with comic books and superheroes recently – you know that).
No one in my past comes close to you. No one is here that I would ever trade you for, or even compare you to. No other woman could ever possibly mean as much to me as you do now (considering a world that would not be worth living in as we would not be together), there are only so many times you can say certain things. You go beyond all of this. You are you. The Perfection I finally managed to see in imperfection.
The future is a scary place. Nothing is certain, nothing at all. But the one thing I am sure about, the one thing that is as certain as death itself, is that I want you there with me. I really don’t want to be there by myself. I need you (I can’t last a day without the internet or milk, need I explain why you need to be there to keep my sanity and sense of reality in check?).
I yell. I shout. I scream. I’m weak. I cry. I frustrate you and get frustrated myself. I do so much that is wrong. But remember this; your happiness is the same as my own. They are not separate, but one and the same. Cheesily cliché as this may sound, I’m happy when you are. I mean it. I promised you that I would keep you happy, always. Remember? I want to make good on that. Always is a long time and I knowing that don’t care. I promised you, didn’t I?
Stay with me, and I’ll show you what love is. I promised you that. I’ll keep you happy and hold you on this dance. We’ll stumble and we’ll trip, but I won’t let you fall. We’ll dance our way, all the way, to heaven.
There’s more, a lot more, that I could still write. But I’ll stop it here. I really could keep going on forever (I talk too much anyways).
A.R.Khan
24.04.2011
- And one day all the leaves and blossoms fall of. What is left, but the roots entwined.
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