Open letter . . .

To my future lover,

Why me? I feel that I don’t deserve you, that there are way more attractive, smart, and funny individuals out there–fit to match the mold of your heart. I can’t even act properly when I’m around you. Every time you call my name, my ears tickle. Every time you stare, my knees weaken, my face warm-up, and I’d look away ashamed–not worthy of receiving them. Every time you hold my hand, my entire body melts like ice, heart liquefies, spreading throughout my veins, I bleed of pure love. The affection you constantly show, the care you constantly provide, I cry just thinking about them. I know it seems pretentious and superficial, but know that it’s all natural–my feelings as authentic as the wild flowers that grow beyond the peaks of mountains; it’s as clear as spring water; it’s as delicate as fine china. You’ll soon discover my discrepancies and become familiar with my mannerisms. You’ll lose interest and think that I’m too clingy–a key stuck in a chain. You’ll quickly recall disappointing moments when we argue–I’m always to blame. Despite my imperfections, you’ll stick around for a while to see where this path will take us. Relationships are unpredictable. We can only evaluate the value of it through moments we’ve spent. . carving our names on picnic tables and aging trees. Speaking as if all of this will eventually happen; it’s all wishful thinking. Pinning all the possible visionary interests on a drywall–bare and taintless.

I am growing impatient by the day. Where are you? Are you waiting for me–to come to you, to be presented on a special occasion, to be neatly decorated with characteristics you find desirable? Perhaps we’ve already met–on city sidewalks, train stations, supermarkets, restaurants, gathering commons, elevator rides, church benches, museums, food lines? There are so many versions of you that I sometimes get distracted by the perfect image I expect you to be. When will you come to me? When will you whisper my name? When will you hypnotize my full attention? When will you caress the surface of my layered soul? When will take my sins away?

You are only a dream I look forward to reliving at night. A show I would buy all the tickets to. A song I would sing to last forever. It’s possible that we will never truly meet, but know that I’m hopeful for that day to come. Know that I’m here. . . ready. Should you decide to appear, no need to warn me in advance. Just be there, ok baby?

❤

Legacy

What will you leave behind?
What will people remember you for?
What moments do you want people to remember you by?
Are you happy of where you are now? Or are you working towards something that will help you achieve your goals in the future?
What can you do to get to where you want to be? –To be someone that others will look-up to?
When you see your own reflection, what/who do you see?
–Do you see someone who will do anything to get to where they want to be? A fighter who will face any obstacle, trials, and hindrance along the path less traveled?
–Do you see someone who is unsure of where to go. . . indecisive, apprehensive, unmotivated to explore?
–Do you see the same person that once stood in the same place, oblivious of tomorrow, carefree, relentless to be who they want to be. . guided by the ones whose hands are calloused from scraping every minute of every hour just so you could survive another day?
Who will remember you once you’ve gone away?
Who will remember your smile, your laughter, the way you look, the way you move?
Who will be there to stand beside your remnants, to clean your eternal bed?
When are you going to set your foot-print on unknown territory?
When are you going to make this day last longer as to fill more sand in the hour glass?
Why do you matter?
Why do you live?
How are you going to live a better life than yesterday?
Like diamonds, do you wish your history to last forever?
What are you hungry for?
What will be your last words?
What . . .will you. . . leave behind?

Why are you here?

I don’t know why I’m here.
–So, why are you here?
You were brought upon this unfair world.
You were either planned or not.
Perhaps you’re the only child or think you feel like thee only child–left alone.
You grew up with aspirations, dreams, wants, pretentious declarations.
Innocence soon diminishes, you become more distant–only thinking about tomorrow.
You wonder how things happen and why things happen.
You wonder about your existence.
You wonder about your purpose.
You wonder about life.
What are your passions?
What do you love? Who do you love? How do you love? Where is love?
Things happen. Things and people come and go.
You look back, you peak what will be — you rarely live in the moment.
–So, why are you here?