A haiku: imagine

All kinds of future--
warm winters and sunny days.
Not that I miss you.

A haiku: comfortable

Glad I get to see
you laughing, your smile, your face
when I close my eyes.

A haiku: it's silly but I have the biggest crush on you

My heart aches for you.
It has been a long day, love,
of missing you much.

A haiku: daydreams of you

Nothing more I want
than to see you and hold you.
Right now and always.

A haiku: you'll see

Always counting down
Months and days and hours more
I will see you soon

Sweet disposition

So stay there cause I'll be coming over.

This song is the background music to so many of the daydreams I have about you and me. Riding our bikes, running around some open field of grass on a bright airy spring day, walking the streets of (insert any city here) at 6pm- right before the sun hides it face, meeting you at the airport after days/weeks/months of not being in your arms. I have this idea in my head where I let you listen to this song on my iPod while we're sitting up in bed. I'll tell you about all my dreams. I miss your smile.

Boeing 747-700

You make me fly higher than anything else could. I don't need to be a pilot as long as I have you. -My love

I love and appreciate all the things he does for me. Oh, sweetness. It will all be worth it in the end.

e. e. cummings

you said Is
there anything which
is dead or alive more beautiful
than my body,to have in your fingers
(trembling ever so little)?
                  Looking into
your eyes Nothing,i said,except the
air of spring smelling of never and forever.

....and through the lattice which moved as
if a hand is touched by a
hand(which
moved as though
fingers touch a girl's
breast,
lightly)
       Do you believe in always,the wind
said to the rain
I am too busy with
my flowers to believe,the rain answered

Oh my heart

But here in Germany, I could buy some for New Years and then when you visit me I'll make it New Years for you. --Mr. Amazing himself

One word. Made up. Douchepocalypse!

Today I took my sociology final. This is what my cheat sheet looked liked:

I condensed twelve articles worth of information in that tiny 3x5 index card. I think I did (and hopefully) well. Now I only have chemistry to worry about. Too bad we can't use cheat sheets for that final. Could have been really helpful for all the organic chemistry reactions I have to re-memorize. Mm those vanilla flavored sticks are so good. That box was only 99cents at Seafood City, too. Good deal. Today was a gloomy day. It was drizzling on my drive to Long Beach this morning and just a while ago, there was light rain. Lovely, lovely. Currently listening to Across the Universe by The Beatles.

PS: You spent your day in Dubai today. I can't wait to hear from you once you're back in Germany.

How many more days?

I like countdowns. Summer countdowns, birthday countdowns, Christmas countdowns, New Year countdowns, Spring Break countdowns, Thanksgiving break countdowns. You name it, I do them all. But out of all the countdowns, I would have to say that the 'countdowns-to-when-I-see-you-next' are my favorite. Nothing could ever compare to seeing the numbers go down, day after day. I want another countdown like that.

(AJ Rafael) When We Say

All these places that remind me of you.

Los Angeles International Airport, Santa Monica Pier/Beach/Boardwalk, Ocean Avenue, the Aquarium, Huntington Beach, Santa Monica parking lot, In-n-Out by LAX, Fao-Schwartz, Griffith Observatory, room 101, Wendy's, SFO, Pier 39, my kitchen, the night sky, TBIT.

Save my money,
for that plane ride
I will wait for you
Growing love but like water
Time will always look through
I will wait for you
but please, come soon

-
Time passes. Seasons change. I miss you.

The warmth of you

At night, it's always the same story. I toss and turn and toss and turn. I think of how exceptionally amazing it would be to be right beside you. How right it would feel to be next to each other. You and me. Nothing more and nothing less. I turn on my side, imagining you're facing me, holding me to sleep. We'd lay there looking at each other's eyes, smiling, whispering sweet things. The lights are turned off and it's comfortably warm with you. "I love you." "I love you, too." "Good night." "See you in the morning." I imagine a soft kiss on my lips. I close my eyes and almost instantaneously, I feel your gentle lips brush over my forehead. We drift off to sleep. Happy, content.

Dear you,

I'll see you soon. Whenever, wherever "soon" is.

The Telescope Reading (Of Course), Her Space Holiday

He lived alone with his books and his records and his telescope, with all the doors locked. Days piled upon each other one by tedious one, until the pressure finally created a diamond like thought and he was instantly sad.

I’ve read every book. I’ve heard every song. And I’ve seen every star from the safety of my bedroom and I am empty. In defeat he slumped forward with his eyes still pressed against the telescope. Just then his lungs began to expand, he blinked rapidly, alternating his eyes between squinting and making his eyes as wide as saucers. He cried out, “Of course!”

With all the hours spent looking up it never crossed his mind to veer straight ahead. He spent days upon days taking it all in. He saw children grow to become men and men grow to become fools. He saw hope, beauty, war, strength, weakness, chaos, stillness. He watched until he could recite each scene from memory, eventually he wrote his own books about what he saw and he made his own songs about what he thought he had heard until almost he himself believed what he was creating to be true until lie upon lie piled on top of itself, until the pressure finally created a pearl-like thought he spoke to the world, ”I’ve seen all of your lives and Ive heard all of your conversations, and I am hungry.”

In frustration, he dropped to his knees and began to bang his head against the old wooden door. ”Of course!” He cried out. And without hesitation he stood up, put on his coat and hat, and turned the knob. But before his first step even hit the ground, he was faced with the most unexpected of emotions, one that he could only figure to be what his favorite books and records refer to as Love.

“Where are you going?” she asked him.

“I don’t know.”

“Me too,” she smiled.

“I’ll take you there.” She extended her tiny hand and swept him away with her.

They walked until their feet bled. During their journey she told him all the places she had been and all the people she had met along the way. A new emotion began to unfold inside of him, one he thought he had overheard in a conversation looking through his telescope. It was the word Fear.

Why would she choose me?

Not wanting to lose her interest, he began telling her stories he thought she might be impressed by but all they did was make her question his strength and ability to battle the enemies that she knew would surely jump out at them one day but she still kept her faith in him and they continued walking.

What amazing things they saw. They danced in dark caves, warmed their faces by the brightest of fires, and played with brilliant children in the blue Spanish sea. But even amidst all that gorgeousness, their hands began to slip - first from palms, then to fingertips, then to nothingness. They stood still, she faced south, and he faced west. He called out to her, “I’m leaving now, and I blame you for the state we’re in. Through all of our adventures I’ve done nothing wrong and though you’ve taught me how to breathe, I’m taking my new voice and leaving you hear with nothing.”

She looked back and cried out to him, “We drew a map together that you promised you would follow with me. I too am scared, especially after you stole my strength and made it your own. But I am still reaching for your hand, knowing it will fit more perfectly than ever if you will only reach back to me.”

But he didn’t reach back, he was vain and confused. He tried to make a new map, but he didn’t know where to put the “X” anymore. So he walked in circles, he lost his rhythm, he froze by the fire, and he drowned in the sea. He made himself what he had feared the most - incomplete. And even though the decision was his, and his alone, he blamed her for that too.

But the whole time she followed him, looking for fallen twigs and fresh footprints to see where he was going but all he left in his path were messages written in the dirt with a broken stick, scrawled lies of anger and shifted blame, until one day he wrote the word “Help” when he needed her most. But by then she had stopped trying to read his thoughts and make sense of his misery. So he headed back to where he started, back to his books and his records and his telescope.

Battered and broken, he finally reached the edge of his street only to find her waiting for him. And upon seeing her soft smile, he immediately knew what he had done, he knew what he had lost, he knew how sorry he was. For the first time she was real to him. they sat and spoke about everything they should have in the beginning of their story and through all the tears he learned that she had been walking her entire life and that she wasn’t waiting for him to go into the world with her at all. No, she was in fact waiting for him to invite her into his house so she could read his books, hear his records and look through the telescope behind the safety of his locked door.

What a fool, he thought.

“I didn’t realize that with all this time I spent looking out this window, you were right there looking back at it, at me, at this, at us. I already had what you had been traveling these roads searching for.”

She crumbled under the weight of hearing her own truth. And through their honesty, they were both as strong as can be and now under the relief of each note of forgiveness, no thought appeared to them, just a feeling. And he whispered to her, “I’ve seen your efforts, and I can feel your love for me, and I am whole. I still have places to visit and mistakes to make in private, but take my home and make it your own, recite lines from my favorite books in the garden, hear the songs closest to my life while you sleep in my bed, and look for me waving at you through my telescope.”

He raised his hand and he rested it on her chest, and he drew an X across her heart. Of course, he thought. He slowly closed the old wooden door and he locked it behind him.

If You Forget Me

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Mark it

I would like someone to make a map. Mark my home and draw some lines that match all of the reasons why it can be like you said.

Snowman

Next time around, please stay. Please don’t melt away. I can’t bear to see you go once more.

Used to be

Accurate depiction of my situation right now. It’s comforting and sad at the same time to know that I’m not the only one feeling like this. I still cry over the smallest things. Doesn’t even have to be directly related to him. I have my weak moments. I fake watching Korean dramas sometimes. So when someone comes inside the room, they’ll assume I’m crying over a kdrama even though I’m not. Haven’t worn mascara (yes, I know there is such a thing as waterproof mascara but I don’t like it) ever since summer because of the crying (wherever, whenever, whatever I’m doing) and it’ll be messy and I’m a mess. I know I should control myself but when the tears start, it’s hard to stop. Because along with those tears are emotions. And I don’t even want to start with the emotions now. I don’t know. I’ll stop here, I guess.