Your me

 Someone asked me why didn't it work out? If you were soo in love.

I didn't have enough words to describe it. Because in the back of my head the thought that it didn't work out because I didn't let it work out haunted me. But we knew why it didn't. 

Then I started the usual song and dance of how well it worked out.

I remember love and what it was to be loved when I think of you.

I remember my love for writing when I think of you.

I remember falling in love with a language that I was soo familiar with in your love letters, poems and confessions to me.

I remember reveling in the thrill of romance through the curve of your penmanship.

I remember the thrum of my blood when your words used to jostle my brain cells with dopamine.

I remember re-learning passion through your favourite topics.

I remember you brimming with excitement seeing your favourite people. 

I remember loving tea through the rim of your glasses, and then leaving it for occasions now because how dare it not come with your lips touching mine.

I remember why red always remained my favourite colour.

I remember the bed of jasmine and marks soo purple when I think of you.

I remember the broken glass bangles and my love for everything sweet.

I remember seeing myself through your eyes.

I remember devotion and then love.

I remember being your goddess and everything dewy in the mist of your eyes.

I remember you and then your me.

I remember letting myself go when I had to let us go.

Then I remembered how well it worked, and then it didn't. 

But love, you were the calm to my tempestuous ocean. My anchor and harbour. Now that the waves are still, I thank you for having helped me reach your shores even once in this life. 

- 🌺