I too long. But, even as our

I should have known it would be like
this. However, I didn’t see it coming even when the universe would throw hints
at my face. Didn’t think I’d be that numb. You see, my mother met my father the
same time she met the person she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with.
So I should have known that your presence meant something the moment you smiled
and I stared at you for a second too long. But, even as our paths closed
together, they weren’t meant to cross just yet, and I needed a few more broken
bones before I was old enough to let you make sense of starry nights.

No, back then, wishing on stars was only
a quirk I’ve seen on TV. I’ve long dropped the idea of it. Back then I wiped
out plans on my calendars for someone who only continued to write more on
theirs. I bet the Lord smirked when I thought this was the life meant for me.
You were on your way as I thought I reached the end of my road.

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Later on, I closed off the idea of
people being like candles. I was unlit and have forgotten that my hands needed
to be held as much as they needed to make art. You came along and as oblivious
as I was, I couldn’t see that my wick once again had a flame. Or perhaps, I’ve
become the embodiment of denial. Either way, you were finally there and I was
clueless that the days to come would make me willingly crawl out of the bed I
was sleeping under. My lack of presence was my safety blanket. I threw it in
the basket the moment I started walking down the road meant for us.

My hand was on yours and every moment
you looked away was an opportunity for me to observe how your ears would be as
red as your face when you blush. For a moment, I forgot about the ghosts I
feared would haunt whoever would come too close. For a moment, the skeletons in
my closet slipped my mind.
You know what? I was shaking. However, I calmed down when I witnessed how you
shrunk the demons that once hid under the bed with me. It was the night you
learned that the reserved daughter of such a stoic man was a cry baby after
all.

I knew you were scared, when I read to
you the things they’ve written about you in red ink. Though you hoped for
years, you feared that I’d say goodbye before the names of the days would begin
their cycle again. You were scared of closed off roads and getting used to holding
my hand. I thought it was beautiful how there were so many things for you to
doubt, yet you found yourself staying and giving more than you said you had. I
was amazed. You let people stand close enough to the door to see a little of
what it’s like inside, yet you never really let them in. It was an honor, when
you permitted me to have a seat. I have always been offering my shoulder. It
was rare for you to lay your head on it, but you did.

Lately, you’ve told me that I knew you
better than anyone. My soul sang tunes in notes I never thought it could reach
and I don’t think I’ve even heard it sing. Starry nights became my favourite
and you would always point me towards the most captivating clouds. We’re both
still scared but we fear straying from our road the most.

Don’t worry; I can assure you I meant it
when I said we’d prove them wrong. After all, I saw that you still knew how to
love even when you lost yourself to the static that their murmurs have created.
It was easy for them to write lies on the parts of your paragraphs you chose to
leave blank.
I shouldn’t worry either, you still pulled me close even after you saw the
reasons why some people don’t see me with the same eyes they used to.

At times, I talk too much. You go quiet
and my paranoia sits behind the wheel. We are both up to our necks with empty
promises and bad decisions. And even if we agree about black and white, your
alcohol still tastes like a bad time to me. There are so many hands reaching
for you, and sometimes as I stare at them I fail to see that your hand is
reaching only for mine. Names from our pasts resurface sometimes and life still
keeps its promise of having ups and downs.
Still, I give you a jacket for when you’re cold and you speak to me in such a
soft voice when you ask if I’ve gotten another headache. I still find myself
holding your hand even when you let go and you still hide your face beneath
your hair when I say that I want to spend my life with you.

This part of the road has us mixing
struggle and comfort. We’ve cried for things we never thought we’d care about
and we discovered treasures within each other that our ghosts used to
disregard.
If the years didn’t put miles in between me and my mother, I’d tell her about
you and how I found someone that makes me feel safe as much as she did with my
father.

I should have known it would be like
this. That we won’t always have good days but we’d rather spend them with each
other than anyone else. Should have known that you were going to save me in
situations no one ever thought I could get myself in. I should have known that
if I kept walking down my road, it wouldn’t just end after crossing with a
bumpy one. It would continue and I’d eventually end up crossing my path with
yours.