Give me your insecurities. Give me your fears. Give me your love, your hopes, your anger. Your dreams. Give me your sweaty forehead and smelly shirts. Your mismatched socks and dirty laundry. Your half eaten veg rolls and crumpled up bills from ages ago. Give me your hugs and silences. Your talks. Your strides. Give me your stillness. Give me whatever you have. And whatever you don't. Give me you and all that makes you and everything that you have inside you.
I'll be there for you.
Be it over phone calls spanning over hours,
Or over shared comfortable silences.
I'll be there for you,
When I am and when I'm not.
I'm there for you.
And I'm there for you,
When the sun won't shine,
The rains won't stop falling,
And we won't be on the same page.
But I'll still be there for you,
In every did you have food
And go have your food
And babe, you should sleep.
I'll be there for you.
To fight is to go on
And to not be quite is to let it go
To shout and scream is to carry on
And to be quiet, is to let it go
To struggle is to hold on
Or you can let it go
And I am just a lost case. A speck of dust in front of the sun itself.. what am I?.. if not nothing...
I love you because of your faults. I love you because you're human. I love you despite all the hardships we put each other through. I love you knowing that we will hurt each other a lot and won't be able to stop it. I love you despite the miles between us. I love you because of the heady feeling I get when I see you. I love you because of how protected I feel when you hold my hand. I love you despite my love for solitude. I love you because of your voice and the way you look at me. I love you for all your words and actions and inactions. I love you for your body and the way you worship mine. I love you irrespective of any reason. I love you. I simply love you more.
I'll wait at home for you, like a half eaten sub, while you explain your fuckology to me. I'll wait and try to wrap my head around your desires to have multiple women wrapped around that dick of yours. I'll wait here when you come back, so that I can let you devour me even with the scent of your other beloved lingering over your body. I'll wait, even if I know that I'll never be your priority.
We had our bits. We will have more. They changed us, carved us, guided us. I can't do anything to heal your bruises and you can't do anything to heal mine. But, we earned them and we now wear them like proud medals. We're thunder and we can't be wrecked.
So, I take you with your mask and bruises and wounds. And I'll pull you up when you fall. We are not damaged, just recovering. And maybe we will always have a part where the other can't reach but together there is the starry sky and the Aurora Borealis and our Icelandic dreams. Together we exist. You're the reason for the rest of my life.
Sometimes I wish we had met differently. Probably in a crowded metro or pub (given our love for nightlife and crowds). Or probably in a hiking camp. Sometimes I wish we haven't met at all. I'd not have to be afraid to lose you if we hadn't met. Sometimes I want to give up because I feel that one day you're gonna give up on me. Sometimes I want to just say yes to eloping. Sometimes I wish we didn't have those stupid fights; they'll somehow always leave us scarred. Sometimes I wish. Just wish. No specifics. But sometimes I wish that you were right beside me at every moment of the day and not more than 2000 miles away.
There was a time when I was suffering through bulimia because I was told that I'm too fat. I weighed 38kgs. I was too fat. I danced on the verge of anorexia. And then I was too skinny. I could never be perfect.
There was a time when I loved someone with all that I had. I was raped by him. He told me that if I loved him enough, I should let him do this to me. Then he left me because I loved too much and he missed his beautiful ex. Again, I was far from ideal.
There was a time when I was the best daughter. I used to listen to whatever they said. Did whatever they wanted me to. Once I tried to tell what I want. Tried to. Took bashings. Once again, I wasn't perfect.
Now that you tell me that I'm magnificent and gorgeous and awesome and all those adjectives I once yearned to hear, I have a hard time believing because I've never learned to be perfect.
So, how could you tell me that I am? Aren't we always taught to go by what the majority says?
But you feel like home, smell like home. With your face buried between my legs, you feel like a gift from heaven.
Finally, I turned perfect.
I dream of us dancing in the kitchen; I'm wearing that raggedy t-shirt of yours that I had secretly stolen a few years back and you're in your SpongeBob SquarePants boxers. The most cheesiest songs were blaring from our state-of-the-art music system and we were giggling and I licked off the peanut butter that was sticking to a corner of your mouth. Love, you're a messy eater.
And I dream of conducting a survey that would tell me how you used to be before you met me (maybe I wasn't actually kidding last night). Maybe I'll ask your mom about the tantrums you threw when she put broccoli on your plate and how you hid cauliflowers in your pocket. I'll ask your dad about your first fall from the little bicycle and I'll ask your brother how you were beside him when he was shattered.
I dream of you coming home and taking me into your arms and kissing me savagely. You proudly introduce me to your friends and whisper I love you in my ears when we are lying beside each other.
And that's all that love is about.
One day I'm going to find out the way you chew, the way you sip, the way you gulp, and the way you smell right after you wake up. I'll know that you feel insecure at times and I just have to keep you close to me until it fades away. And I'll catch spiders for you and scare away lizards. I'll sort your inbox and kiss you when you're mad. I'll know how cranky you get when tired and how fast you can fall asleep. I'll know what gets you hyper and what makes you distant. I'll know everything and I'll still love you more. You're the guy I'll bake eggless brownies for.
Maybe all we ever wanted since our childhood was a normal, mediocre, free from stupid expectations life. And I think I have achieved that when I wake up to you nuzzling up against me. And your eyes are still trying to adjust to the surroundings. And maybe working from home was the best decision I had ever taken. Otherwise, who would have opened the door and jumped into your arms when you return from work? Who would have cooked you eggless pancakes when you go out and baked you fresh cookies when you return? Maybe this isn't what we had envisaged when we first started dating, but when do things work according to plans.
All we ever wanted was to be happy and we found it. All we ever wanted was to be loved and be in love and we are. There is nothing else that I want and nowhere else I wanna be. It's always been more than love.
When I was 13, I diagnosed myself with depression.
At 23, I realised that I have clinical depression.
When I was 13, I had my first boyfriend.
At 23, I am engaged to the person I believe to be the love of my life.
When I was 13, I was brimming with confidence for being the best.
At 23, I'm struggling to make peace with the fact that I'll never be good enough.
When I was 13, I believed that only love doesn't hurt.
At 23, I realised that love is the only thing potent enough to tear me apart.
When I was 13, I wanted to run wild and never give in.
At 23, I just want to be cicurated to suit your needs.
You hold my heart,
The heart that is the museum of every wickedness.
You hold my body,
The burnt, destroyed, ruined, substituted, wrapped up in glorious lies body.
And my sweet little tongue inside your mouth,
Throws in recycled words, stale breath of coffee, and indomitable rage.
So, now that you've found what you love,
Will you let me kill you with the cruelly soft touch of my fingers around your white throat?
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We have always needed rail trips, road trips, coffee shops, sunsets, sunrises.. A playlist of old songs and another of new.. Stamps on passports..But we needed each other more than anything else. I'm your other person and you're mine. You are a screaming, breathing, living, exquisite invitation to the world of believing that good things happen.
I accept your highs, your lows, your distances, and your center of gravity kissing mine. I accept your tantrums, your weird requests, and your unnecessary demand for buying quilling paper. I accept all of it. I accept all that you give me. I accept all of you in its pristinity.
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