A lover of words, yet can’t find the words to describe the actuality of him.
No obsolete and modern words could ever describe this feeling. No one could ever fill the hollows that were beyond reach. While you’re out there living in reality, I was here living in fiction — reminiscing your words.
y-o-u-’-r-e s-t-i-l-l t-h-e s-a-m-e
How can letters formed in a word make you a literal deaf in a second?
Hey,
I’ve been living my life being an autodidact. A philomath. A logophile.
And,
I’m at a part of a book wearing the actuality of you.
…
You were the words that I can’t fathom to feel. You were that one essay that I can’t exactly remember what the content you’re actually holding. You were that one complex formula that I’m so discombobulated to understand, yet was provocative that made me want to solve it more.
You were just exactly that one word.
The complexities of you made me retaliate about who I really am. Oh God, you really have your way into making a person want to stop breathing for a while.
The complexities of you made me a big lover of something — to learn,
and you.
Just because you were just too ineffable, to even describe the totality of who you really are.
Yes,
y-e-s I-’-m s-t-i-l-l t-h-e s-a-m-e
I am still here waiting for you to go backwards, to read the pages that we’re on.
While the book is still not burning by the walking shadow of your words, I can, and I still have time to let it embrace me, not fearing to be engulfed by its darkness.
But,
It’s been so long that…
No matter how much I love to be embraced by this dark alley waiting for a long lost dead form of nostalgia , I still longed to reach and grasp the ending of this book.
It’s been so long that I can’t even remember the actuality of you.
The words that loved you were blurred by the absence of your voice.
I can’t remember you.
Nothing.