I don’t want to be friends because I started loving you. Neither do I want nor am I ready to find someone else because I already found what I wanted in you. Later I could find all this in someone else or maybe not; so I will put this matter to rest—I am taking no chances. The glitches of our relationship were just typical of [many]. But what [isn’t] is your smile—that brings meaning to life. Lately I’ve realized that no other guy makes my temperature rise above ordinary like you do. No other makes missionary rise above boring like you do. None other makes my heart melt light like metal in an alchemy pot like you do.
I don’t want to say goodbye because in this scenario, valediction is no option. Not when I am the only one who ever made a notable cameo in your episode of love. It’s senseless and not fair if I don’t have you yet in all my possessions, you’re all I have. It’s clear that in this affair you’re the drug I can’t function without. Could we go back to where we used to be? Could we draw again from the inspirations we used to see vividly with our eyes closed and feel briskly without touch? Could I not worry much about your feelings for me? Because I am the schizophrenic; you’re not only my doctor and medicine but also what my psychic tells me is real amidst this insanity.
I don’t want to lie that you mean nothing to me because that’s old and am out of new tricks. Plus it doesn’t make any sense to keep playing with feelings like a game of cards. I can’t say that I don’t miss you calling my name and your kiss or your hugs but in fact, I miss everything about you, even the annoying habits and you hating on my uggs. Among quite a number of things, I miss your classy suits just as much as your ambitious pursuits. Out of all the guys I’ve seen, you’re the reason why I am sitting here waiting still. You’re the reason why we can both turn this hurt back into love. And if we don’t try then we’ll never know if maybe one day we could have turned this house into a home.