To My One True Love
I pray that you’re happy and safe wherever you might be for you were always my favorite person and it was such a shame that you had to go. Despite everything, the sluggish and blurry years that had passed and the trivial people who had come and went, you were still in my mind amidst those moments when all I could think about is giving up and losing my way.
Life without you has been a constant struggle and keeping myself afloat in this tumultuous ocean of chaos and expectations is getting harder and harder each day. People can be so harsh sometimes, reality is too cruel and there are days when I just don’t want to wake up in the morning. I feel so guilty at times especially when I think about how blissful and euphoric dying can be, how peaceful and instant letting go might feel like.
I miss you and I long for you to come back. Some nights I wallow in woeful dreams and half-tragic half-victorious flashbacks. Most nights, I cry with silent happiness because of the golden childhood you’ve given me the luxury of. The only time when I’ve felt genuinely happy and like nothing’s wrong with the world was during that Christmas eve when I was only six and smaller than a travelling suitcase.
I still remember that night, it projects itself so vividly; like an old filmroll that runs all by itself in the middle of a summer afternoon just because it can and it should. I remember everything from that night. It pulsates melodically in the deepest crest of my memories. My Christmas gift was a stuffed pink donkey, or was that a pig. It is still with me despite its worn state and gum-filled fur. I think it missed you, too. Our earlier and now bare house too, I believe that even the thunderous clap of rain there are nights when it yearns for you to return home.
You to me are the light that keeps darkness at bay. You’re the voice that persuades and reminds. You’re the nucleus of nostalgia, the cold yet comforting breeze at night, the familiar, rhythmic and gentle tap-tap tap and pitter-patter of raindrops falling on the roof. You’re the old television series reruns and classic movies I watch just because they give me a feeling of security and déjà vu. You’re my definition of home and that will never change.
You are my favorite person and you will always be. The boyish smile and manly yet affectionate way you remind me how pretty living is and how life has a tendency to dwindle in front of the eyes, continually taunting its stagnation, will forever stay with me for you are one of the definite reason the world still sparks for me. Wherever you’ve ended up in, I know that you’re still the same as you were before: An authoritarian yet easy-going everyman, the best chef ever, fellow bookworm, film buddy, academic genius, my pillar, my sanctum, my superhero, my one true love.