To a name etched so deep that my attempts to erase it have been in vain,
I have often come to wonder how it all seems so impossibly real. And it is not just 'it' but also the immense joy, sorrow, pain and I don't know how many other emotions that it brings along. I don't know what you call it. But I will call it love. Not with the shy reluctance with which I first confessed it to you, but with all my confidence, I shall call it love at any rate. I don't know if I am feeling something I am not allowed to feel. I do not know if this acceptance would beget any more pain than it already has. I am rather afraid of the effect to which this love itself may drive away love.
Yet pain from this love or the accusations levelled against this mortal wreck doesn't bewilder me anymore. I have come to realise the might of its intoxication. Too cheesy, isn't it? But true nonetheless. It feels like emptying the most intoxicating something to the very last drop. It's like drowning in an ocean that is only to glad to devour you. And when one has drowned in the ocean, what deep is the forest stream to fear! That perhaps gives me my strength. An incomparable strength.
I don't know if I am allowed to love. I am unsure if the subject of my feelings will even acknowledge it in positive light. I cannot say if Love would be kind enough to nod consent. But come what may, I will love.
I shall keep the wait longer, light the candles and believe in my part of the fairy tale.
Though this day might never dawn,
In a forever earnest wait,
You know who.