Her name is the tears of heaven and often is the sight
of her heavenly. She’s around me now, and forsooth, I pray for this moment to
last endlessly. She always is, even when her absence takes place; even if in
uncertainty I should believe, she’d still be around. She’s got those eyes that
make me question the stars and their ability to shine. I find it funny how an
ordinary girl can be a subject to an extraordinarily intense passion. From her
name to her every aspect, she has become my world, and now she’s my all- my
life, my death, my best, one who brings me my worst, my most, my least, my
loss, my gain, my reward, my punishment, my shine, and most of all, my rain.
Here’s the catch. Even though I interpret her fairness
as a poet who decodes the enigma of his heart, no praise may be devised to
truly define her beauty, and as long as my words and acts do not realize her
real pulchritude, she won’t be mine. God only knows what happens next, but hey,
what happens next, happens next. Yet, the unsure truth about tomorrow shall not
discourage any lover, as I, to love his love. Wise men say that the world
belongs to a patient man. Let pass the times, for they will anyway. The only
duty that I am to fulfill is the duty of reminding her how much I cherish her in
her flaws and faults, and therefore she must not be afraid because my love is
real. I won’t frown upon her defects, nor will I take note of the errors of her
whole being. I dear her as she is. Always.
I’ve decided to tell of her for my first entry so if I
won’t be given my chance, perhaps this might be. Let this reach what my flesh
substance cannot. Any move that I have thought of, I have given a rain check. Anyway, to the eyes that read, can I tell you
a secret? Soon enough, I will take steps. I will court her in all my glory. I
will tell her how much I love her every single day. I will wait on her. Until her wounds
heal. Until she’s ready again. And maybe one morning, I would wake up to her
voice saying, “I’m home, at last.”
(Photo Credit: Rainrose Fernandez)
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