You Taught Me


You drive me crazy. My brain suddenly is a rollercoaster track with little love-infused thoughts riding its ironically strong yet fragile structure of gray matter, sliding down along my spines and they become shivers.

Ridiculous because you drive me crazy with you just simply existing. When you look into my brown eyes of abyss — that hollow and void, you fill them with love and purpose of existence. My lifetime companion made up of good music taste, cigarette stained lips and class, with those eyes, sharp gaze, seems to always leave me in a daze, daydreaming till I realize that reality is much better with you and bad days seem to be nothing but haze or fog or smoke just to be blown away by your hurricane of love and comfort.

You taught me how to say I love you without saying “I love you” like when you said “Babe, I’m planning to get a motorcycle. The traffic’s getting out of hand.” and without any hesitations I responded “Motorcycles should be banned”, my deranged little head can’t seem to risk seeing you splattering yourself on the road — paranoid even with the tiniest illogical reason, I always seem to care and overthink it.

There’s also that time when I got mad at you because you always smoked too much but then I remembered that your cigarette kissed lips are my favorite things to kiss. I reached for your face and realized that they weren’t my favorite thing to touch — I yearned to run my fingers through your soul, hoping I’d be a blowing wind of change that would change your life.

You taught me to say I love you without saying “I love you” by memorizing every single hair from your body, every slightest scar, every mole you have, 50 more or less. You taught me to say I love you without saying “I love you” by saying thank you for keeping up with me, for tolerating my psychotic paranoid labyrinth unsolvable. You taught me to say I love you without saying “I love you” by putting my porcelain heart in your hands and knowing that your hands are even more careful than the potters who made me.

Careful fingers playing my heartstrings like your guitar, gentle enough like tickles, listen how my heartbeat lub-dub is replaced by your name — the most beautiful word, the most beautiful sound is your voice or your breathing, it’s comforting to know that you are existing and that you are right here with me every step of the way.

Darling, you taught me to say I love you without saying “I love you” by making these black and white type printed letters on my notebook and that initialed note paint colorful images of my love for you.

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