If He Never Smiled

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As a writer, as an artist, as a human, I found myself caving into the temptation of making the best out of everything around me. Be it a simple rock or a horrendously and unexplainable arrangement of ornaments, I will find myself wanting to touch, to write and to paint upon something out of these things that probably most people would spare only one glance.

I cannot see his face or hear his name without having my heart tumbling over its beats or my eyes blinking a little more rapidly. Before losing my body to sleep, he is the last thing I remember and he would not spare me in my dreams either.

Yesterday itself, I woke up in sweat with my heart pounding so hard to the extent I thought it would have bursted out of my chest. In that dream of mine, I was chasing him and laughing at the same time. His voice kept echoing in my head, constantly nagging me that I would not be able to catch him. After a blurred scene came another where the both of us were standing at the top of a building and looking by my side, there he stood, sweaty yet he was smilling at me. In that moment, my heart decided to wake me up.

Maybe it is in the way he looks at me that makes my body want to move in the same way my favorite song makes me move. Or is it possible that it is in the way he gives me the smile that he does not give to anybody else but me that makes me want to grab him by the collar and pin him down? Or is it the way he speaks through me as he paints my soul with his serenedipitious yet dangerous words that makes it all so unbearably hard to resist from caving in?

He craddles my cheeks with his hands everytime before we kiss, it makes me feel safe and warm. I never felt so safe in the hands of any man but that was before I met him. To me, it is a promise he makes.

I would ask him some times about what he is doing to me and he would counter back to me on the same question. Truth be told, whenever he held me and however close he was to me, I always felt the happiest around him.

He strengthened me.

Ever since the first day we talked, I knew that my heart had taken a liking in him and I would not be able to change that.

Imagine walking into a room of familiar faces who you have spent your entire school years with and despite that, his presence to me felt the most prominent.

When I loved him, I allowed myself to be vulnerable to him. I allowed myself to be exposed to him. I allowed myself to be influenced by him. I allowed myself to be patient, kind, strict, firm, loving, gentle, caring, serious for him, to him and with him.

Because I love him, I will be with him. In the dark and in the light. In sickness and in health. In the fights and as well as the make ups.

Through his smiles and his tears.

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