I am afraid of intangible things - how do I know if they are there if I can't touch it, can't hold it, can't put it in a safe box just so during these rainy days I can open my treasure and remember our days in the sun?
That's why I like pictures, I love photography. - I steal moments with my lenses. People tell me that pictures keep a part of that person's soul in them - so even when the he changes, fragments of him still remain the same. That wasn't my reason for I wonder if that would hurt me more in the future, looking at what I once had now I don't, looking at whom I once loved, now I can't even bring myself to like. But I still take pictures for my selfish purpose, for my momentary happiness. I always think I will deal with the future when the future comes. But that's just what I think.
Sometime, I wish I could freeze this second, this very second when we were merely walking together in perfect silence, our shadow cascaded on the concrete floor, when the shadow of your hand plunged into the one of mine - we almost looked as if we were holding hands. Perhaps, that's the closest physical contact I can ever get to be near to you. Well then if so, I don't mind. The darkness enveloped me but I did not fear one bit. What is there to worry when you are here?
Some other time, I desire to selfishly stop the clock, right at this second when you laugh wholeheartedly, when your mind is not clouded by a pessimistic thought - when I feel the split-second assurance that I could understand you, that perhaps you have me in your thoughts and I am making you smile.
I wonder if you know how much you are loved, appreciated for the person you are. The journey I embarked to learn about you has inspired me to be a better person. It started with a crazy idea - but sometimes, it does take a crazy girl with a crazy idea to bring back the thousand splendid sunshine.
I am overwhelmed by my own determination, my will - for what? Why I am doing this? Because I have to let you go. And only by accomplishing this task, can I ever let you go with ease.
Why does it have to be this way, my dear? Why must you be everything I want yet I am everything that is wrong for you? Why must we be born half way around the globe apart, abide different faith yet share so much in common?
Why did our paths cross? Why am I in your life?
