To the Person who has my Heart

      To the person who has my heart,

           If you’re actually reading this, stop immediately. This was never meant to come into idle hands, especially not yours. I have little dignity left intact, and this will surely swipe the rest of it out from underneath me. It’s just sometimes emotions bubble up inside of me, like a cauldron of the most potent elixir, and I struggle to handle it. You probably understand the feeling - albeit not about me, but someone else.

           These feelings aren’t sudden, not by a long stretch. They grow steady, blooming like a red rose, cared for most meticulously. Your beauty, although noticeable when I first met you, was nothing but a dull light to me. It’s when I got to know you, and your personality shone like a thousand luminescent beams, that I truly began to see how beautiful you really are. You see, your personality makes you beautiful. You can have the most rugged, most handsome looks in the world, but it all means nothing if you don’t have kindness, and generosity.

           You, though… you have both. You have everything.

           You are everything I’ve ever wanted. I see your kindness in the way you always make sure everyone’s feeling okay. I see your generosity in the way you make sure the weight’s off of everyone’s shoulders before your own. I see your beauty in the way that whenever I feel any emotion other than joy, you strive to make me laugh, as if a single second of me smiling can cure your own unhappiness. To tell you the truth, this smile only exists for you. You don’t know that, and I can’t seem to find the words to tell you, so I desperately hope that one day, my actions will speak louder than the words I cannot utter.

           Along with the happiness, you bring a storm of emotions within me. Butterflies flutter around my stomach, sometimes to the point where I feel physically sick. Sadness, that you can’t see yourself through my eyes. Jealously creeps through me like a masked demon when you speak just single word to someone else, just because I don’t want you to feel you deserve better than me. The surging feeling of loss when I miss you, even after I spend hours on end with you, talking about nothing in particular. Sadness that I know you will never be mine. So, you see? Love is not all it’s cracked up to be.

Love is only one emotion, but it’s made up of a multitude of others. You get the good feelings of love: the safety, the care, the crushing happiness… but the bad feelings will always be there. The pain, the ignorance, the stubbornness, it will always be there. And whilst I’m not yours, those bad feelings are non-existent. Most of them. The pain still lingers, however.

How can anyone be so perfect? A question that flows freely around my mind, constantly. In reality, I know no one is perfect… but even with that in mind, I still see you as perfect. I have no right to really, but I can’t help it.

           I’m not saying I hate her; I’m sure she’s nice, and I can hardly judge someone I’ve never met. I’m just saying that the words you say, the way you act… I see you calm down with me. You don’t feel like a burden, your shoulders relax, and you laugh a little lighter when we are together. I might be making it up, hallucinating even – distracted by the overwhelming love I have developed for you – but you said it yourself, I make you happy. But that’s not enough, is it?

           For me, you are a breath of fresh air. You are a source of untimely happiness I’ve never experienced before, and I want more. Never has my life had a purpose before, but you’ve shown me there’s so much to it. So, even if you don’t agree with a word I’m saying, you’ve taught me things. Valuable things.

           Because of you, I’ve learnt to love myself. I no longer feel disgusted, or overwhelmed by my appearance in the mirror. I take myself into consideration for once. I no longer try as hard to please other – no one’s opinion matters more than yours anyway. Your opinions, and your little quirks too. The inside jokes that only we share, the little faces you pull at the minor inconveniences you face, the colour of your eyes. I made the mistake of looking into them once, curious to see what colour they were… but boy, was that a mistake. Once I looked in them, I didn’t want to stop. But for someone who hates eye contact, I sure as hell want yours to be the ones I get to look into one day.

           Unfortunately, you are the right person for me, but you came along at the wrong time. I never thought I’d meet someone as amazing as you, but when I did, you were already spken for. I can’t believe my own luck that someone else found you first. I hope she makes you happier than you seem. I hope she doesn’t corrupt you, and mess with the journey you’ve taken; I’m proud of how far you’ve come. I wish you good luck for the future; I’m leaving soon, as you already know. I want to know if it will tear you apart just as much as it tears me apart? Probably not, but I understand.

           So, person who has my heart, I remember you asking not long ago, what is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen? I could lie, and say it’s you, but that would be wrong. Not saying you’re not beautiful; you are, but you always have been. No, the most beautiful thing, to me, is how I feel about you. The feeling of complete, absurd devotion to someone who has already been promised to someone else. It’s beautiful, but destructive. I didn’t notice it before, but as the months have passed, I’ve realised how beautiful it is. Even though I’ve seen you a hundred times before, I never truly realised my feelings for you until now. Pure, possibly requited, possibly unrequited, love. You will always have my heart, even if I don’t have yours.

           How destructive.

           But how beautiful.

-A