Crush

Everything is right when he says it. Everything is right when he does it. I tried it, doing the things that he did. But they just never had the same charm. Maybe he's a magician, or maybe he is magical himself. I don't smile the way he smiles, at least no one ever told me how my smile stopped the time. Technically, i've never told him about that, but his smile does that to me.

Metaphores had never been my forte, hah, i can't even spell it right. Still, there's no other way to describe a first love the way a poet does. He was the beginning of my journey, the city i've always wanted to visit. But though never reaching the destination, the journey was meant as a journey to overcoming myself, and to be okay with who i am stuck with. With my shyness, or confusions, or with my day dreamings - so foolishly about being his.

Yet, to sit beside him quietly, and to share the same air, i still feel like a victor. At least, our carbon dioxides, the love child of our lungs and oxygen, will meet and mingle.