A Complete Symphony.

I see him when my eyes are closed. I see him when my eyes are open, too. My heart seeks for him, in every room. My eyes are trained now, for him and him only. It's not an obsession, but need. I'd kneel for thee. I'm pretty sure that I'm one of his friends. Pretty sure that he cherishes me. Even though I want to feel like I'm the only one in his eyes. He's so good at making me feel special while treating everyone else so well. I just hope he treats himself well, too. That he loves him as much I love him. My eyes shine bright, my smile too wide and my mind feels like pink peonies. It's like the crashing of a wave. Yet also like the soft buzzing of a bee. So soft, yet so loud My heart's so demanding. I wish that it wasn't. He probably thinks I'm crazy. His ideas are so fresh. His smile so rare. I don't think I can give up this man even if I tried. I've seen my whole life with him. Twice or thrice. He was there, every day. When everybody else seemed to blur. I felt so alone and needed him. Yet I don't think he ever knew. How important he was and is to me. He's the box that could encase me without entrapping or concealing me, just providing me with comfortable security. I wish that I had known him my whole life. But now that I know him. I don't want to waste a minute without him. Yet still, I'm so doubtful, since I'm young. He's younger than me, from a different place, a different language and different interests. Yet I wish that our hearts were made of the same cloth. Mine beats so hard, my mind races and I feel like I'm floating. Up in the air; I might be stupid in love, indeed. But I don't mind being stupid for him, I don't mind being the one to hold his hand. I don't mind being the one who'd get thrashed. It's not that I don't love me. I love me, more than anything in the world. I just hope, he loves me more than I love me. His smile, his eyes, his eloquence, his confidence, his clarity, his curiosity, his consistency, his knowing what he wants and showing up every day. His kindness, his determination, and perseverance, Oh God, I could go all day, listing about all the things that make me love him today, tomorrow and all the days after. If he were the sun, I'd want to be Mercury. If he was a silkworm, I'd want to be a Mulberry leaf. If he was a pen, I'd want to be ink. If he was the air, I'd want to be dust that endlessly floats under streaks of light. If he was the darkness, I'd want to be his light. I might just become light, even if I preferred the shadows before his arrival. I need him to be mine. He'd just have to say a word. I'd make him wait. Not 'cause I love him any less than what I've written. But because, we're so young and we need to build a life. Without one, we would never be accepted by the people we love. And trust me, I'd rather engross and dedicate myself in you for the rest of eternity. But that is easy. I want to earn you, and that's so much harder than you'd think. 'Cause I had to earn me first. And now I'm still working on me. I take up all my time. And that's okay. 'Cause once we're older, I'll try to squeeze out a lot of my time for you. I'm willing to face the pain of when you might leave me in the future, because I've fallen so hard for you. When everything was falling apart, you figured it out with a word from my mouth. When the people who have known me since my first breath, wouldn't even know why I would've been no more the next day. I didn't need guilt caused by me on your plate, I'd rather fill it with delicacies instead, like being there for you. All the radical thoughts that I had vanished at the sight of you. As someone who thought they might be undeserving of a family and children, you made me want that life. Even though I'm not entirely sure about it. A "Yes" from you would be all it takes for me to not second-guess anything ever again. I'm not dependent on you for my needs. But I'm dependent on you for my breath and heart. I know you'll keep it safe, sweetheart. Don't injure yourself, I'm not entirely sure I'll be able to pass the day without crying. Take care of yourself. Now, even if I don't end up being your girl. And you, my boy. You'll become a forever memory, of the most passionate love I've ever felt. Your name, your feeling and your hand painted on my hand. You're my nine, my olive branch and my right hand. You're the raag missing in the symphony of my life.