to the ‘autumn-boy’

he kept explaining to me cleverly & cunningly that he knows “autumn” as a name for girls but never “octopus”. i stood there explaining that he was mistaken that i ever said that, while completely floored at his cleverness & slyness in inserting hidden messages into an impromptu conversation and then proceeding to tell me things which i try and hide. if i were to do something like that i probably would have drafted out a conversation, rehearsed it in front of a mirror and would have made awkward attempts to direct the other person to my scripted conversation and then failing miserably.

but here is the thing. as brilliant as his conversational masterpiece was, what good is that to me ? what the fuck do i do with that piece of information ? i guessed as much that i didn’t quite managed to hide my feelings and then there was that time, when he turned around and ran away from me screaming when he thought i’m about to confess.

every time i am around the autumn boy, i keep falling in love with him and i keep wanting to stay and linger, just a little bit longer. i keep telling myself that i have a secret that nobody knows. it starts in my heart and consumes me as a whole. i store it deep down and i always find myself in two minds wanting to spill and not wanting to share. and praying that one-day i might feel whole. it makes me sigh softly, groan silently and makes my eyes sparkle with tears. it eats away at all my feelings, until i become numb and cold as a steel. layers of frost on my heart, feeling lost and feeling old. if he ever knows my secret i would want him to know that i love him still and that i will watch him from afar and with care. and i’ll send my kisses through the sweet air.

my moments with you are bittersweet. they keep me happy, making me think of what we could have, and making me crazy with all of my delusional wishes. thinking that you’re flirting when you really only asking me simple questions. it’s all so difficult, but what to do ? you make me feel like i have missed out something important. i know we can never be and i’ve forbidden myself to fall for you. but still, i’m terrified that when i’m married, with a man who truly loves me, that i’ll still be thinking of you. wondering about endless what-ifs. what if i had the courage to say how i feel ? what if you have the courage to acknowledge me and risk asking me out. what if we go through endless things together, giggling all the way. i want to feel your hands on my waist & my body against yours. how long should i wait ? i used to think that you were shallow, and flash and i would never date you or marry you because twenty minutes into our dinner date, i would probably slap you silly. but now i am thinking, maybe you can learn to understand me. maybe you are just as lost as i’m and wanted me to know you through all that haze and flash. i don’t let people grow close to me.  i would let you in but i don’t trust you that you would handle me with care. i was broken in a million pieces and i carefully glued and stitched myself together. i’m hard to get to know, as i bury myself deep under many layers. but i’m thinking i could be wrong about you. you should know i love you always.

there’s more to tell but that’s how it always goes with you, there’s always more to say, you’ll always listen (or read) and so will i. i would want you to write me a poem and bring me flowers and i still haven’t erased you from the top half of my list of “maybe-s”, and “when you wish upon a star”, but i might be getting there, maybe. we’re never walking in the same direction, but maybe we can wish for the same like we hint at wanting.

my darling, life was so much better when i didn’t give a fuck about you.

i still love you anyway.

(oct. 10, 2018)

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