Staring blankly at the ceiling,
warmly wrapped in my blanket,
I think of all the words I wish I'd said,
the things I did that made you smile,
the songs I'd sung that put you to sleep,
the thoughts I didn't write down, and all the heartfelt messages left unsent,
remained as drafts.
If we hadn't met,
I probably wouldn't be thinking about you at 2AM,
reminiscing the moments I lost in your dreamy eyes,
remembering how safe it felt as I rest my head in your arms,
how your gentle touch melted away my fears,
how your laugh made my day so dazzling,
how I fell in love somewhere in between our conversations,
how everything felt right,
how being in your presence felt home.
Had our paths never crossed,
I certainly wouldn't be missing you so bad. I wouldn't be looking at our photos typing sweet and cheesy captions. I would be sleeping, binge-watching Netflix or watching K-Dramas instead of writing up scenarios of me sharing with you everything of my everyday,
held in your warm embrace.
What if we hadn't started anything?
What if we chose not to love each other?
Then, I wouldn't be aching this much.
I wouldn't be crying myself to sleep, asking where I went wrong or why am not good enough.
I'd possibly be singing Adele's album without tears.
I'd be at peace with myself, not scared of having something precious that at some point, I have something to lose.
But fatefully, we did. We met. We loved.
And the time I had spent with you couldn't be any happier.
It's the one that made me hope of something closer
to forever—of something beautiful and lasting.
So, I loved you, wholeheartedly,
with warmth and fidelity,
the kind of love that's unconditional,
trusting and forgiving,
the kind of love that stays.
Yet, you're the kind of love that left.
You're that one love I've fought for, desperate of winning.
Terrified that I'll forget and give up this battle,
I engraved you in my heart, you in every piece—your smile, your laugh, your stare, your story, your kiss, your touch.
As I keep memorizing every bit of you,
I ended up slowly forgetting every fragment of me.
Sadly, I lost myself, but I've kept you.
You? You never lost me, I stayed. I'm here. You lost us. You lost that love, my Love.
– If We Hadn't Met | K.B
2AM , 04•09•18
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A/N
Weaved this piece in a few minutes at 2AM, but its words could last a lifetime.