Significant. (Thoughts)
Thinking of you is like flying up to 100 kilometers above the sky — it’s thrilling, exciting, intricating. I almost touched the void of the universe. Hence, all I need to do is to let the wind blow me over. Wherever it is.
Inside the city of clouds and fogs — you know, where it is all substantiated — a light dim as the night comes. One by one draws back then we walked down the path. And suddenly, it is just us on the track.
I honestly get easily exhausted whenever I’m moving on my feet, it makes me sweat so much. But you are here — holding my hands, supporting each of my movement. Whenever I stop, you do so. Whenever I breathe, you do so. Whenever I stop to breathe, you do so.
The coffee shop which you used to visit opens brightly, and we can see the bulbs from a block afar. As we enter through the door of roasted beans smells, I immediately feel something I have never done before.
Assurance.
“You look like you’re coming straight out of pinterest. Super aesthetically pleasing.” Said him while throwing back his mind to the end of last year.
Tonight is an exception. It is out of my prediction, and I can’t even fathom the feeling of this amusement. It’s bizarre that the universe has just given us a chance to break the leg—to talk eye to eye.
“So, what about us?” asked him while caressing my hand.
“What?”
“What are we?”
“What do you want to be?”
“I want to be more than friends.”
“Like what, super duper mega friends?”
We laughed.
At that moment, I knew I would say, “Let’s go.”
It’s the same thing when he portrays the picture in his head and I write the words in my mind.
It’s the same thing when he transposes the melody higher and when I break my voice into alto.
It’s the same thing when he hears vocal as emotions and I hear sound as nuances.
It’s the same thing when he wants the touch of the warmth and I want to taste the cold of the ice.
We’re the same.
Buddy’s night out was never missed. He goes out and drinks. He goes home and drinks. He sucks because his voice isn’t something I won’t ever miss.
I rant out at his day — or night — in front of the mirror of my hand. Having the faraway path, it is indeed hard to understand him all over.
But he’s cute. And caring. And understanding. And a fucking smartass. And dignified. And a slapstick. And nasty. And handsome. And hot. That, I can’t resist.
So here’s to the steel of the night, to the 12 o’clock of the glorious noon. You suit me well, said a friend. And you are a pain in the ass. And I love you. *spits out of my mouth*
-Northeast, 1 July 2023.
