2AM thoughts

I've been called immature whenever I thought I was being myself,
Showering my love onto you,
They asked me to grow up and stop my acts of rebel.
It was hurting at first, I cried out in pain,
For who knew it was the punishment of giving one's self so selflessly that there was nothing left to gain.
But now I'll stop all this love-rhyming shits,
Because now it's real time, bitch.

L-O-V-E: the most hopeless word to ever come across.

They say the bitterness in my words tells that I've been through this feeling. Maybe I have or maybe I haven't. You must be wondering that how come I have doubts about what I really felt about?  Well for the starters, there are douches all around us that make this one syllable word worthless. According to these smart mouths, it's unlikely for one to "fall in love" with someone at "younger age" (be it in their teens or early twenties). Now who do you blame for bringing these doubts upon me?

I'm a strong lady. I don't need an immature little boy who has his eyes for every girl that is around him and is in the idea of 'loving' me, to call me beautiful or make me feel the other way. Because that is for sure that no one is around you without their own lost causes and personal intentions (damn that was really intense right?)

Yes, at times I do wonder what it really was. Was it l-o-v-e? Who knows maybe it really was.

When your heart skips a beat just by their voice, when your mind goes numb by the way the look at you, when their eyes cut through and see your soul, you feel relaxed when only you feel is their presence, when only a sentence from them is enough to make you smile, silence is also soothing when you're with them, when you feel complete, connected, and full with their mere presence.

The sparks you feel on touch,
The tears you dwell upon the eyes when you see them hurt,
Everything becomes a harmony and music whenever they're around,
And at last all you do is forgive them even if they've got you hurt.

"Moving on is an imaginary concept"

When you have something so much consuming you, you find it difficult to move up on. They say it takes 21 days to built up an habit. And so what would you say for something this long?

*A coin has to faces*

That was one part indeed. Now talking about the other side of the coin. "Was it l-o-v-e?"

You talk to them and used to talk about them but what now? You didn't even cry nor feel just the way you did when they broke up. So was it like you were in the idea of l-o-v-e?

Is it maybe I don't feel like giving a damn to any of those things what they are accusing me of?  Or maybe I'm thinking that it was just a bad habit that'll pass on.
Or maybe I'm just being my mature self what they asked me to be!

••••••••••••••

The thing is you don't fall-in or fall-out of love and there's no age for being in love. For what I've known, maybe I was in love. 'was', past tense, yes because I was in love with the person he used to be, the person he was before he fall out of something so beautiful that we had according to me. Maybe he wasn't in-love with me like how I was, but he made me feel everything and nothing all together.

Yes, of course I miss him; but for the person who I thought he was. Never had I found brown eyes so fascinating until I fell for his. His hopelessly long body stature, his brown curls making my fingers swirl. His strong knuckles that always went soft for my fingers. Those reluctantly long kisses that were enough to say a million things without even uttering a syllable. I do miss him not for what he had become now but what I thought he was for me.

There will always be a million things that I had wished to say him. So many situations of what-ifs and may-be. It was self consuming maybe but for time being it was all worth it.

I won't regret any of that what I had and would always cherish,
For I love the person he used to be.

Maybe I'm wrong or maybe I'm overreacting,
He might come back or he might be stressing,
Had he not leave and try on the first place,
That's all I'm saying,
Because not everything happens for a reason,
Somethings just happen because we want them to be..
For I would always love the person he used to be..

•••••••••••••••••••

And then they again got me thinking-

"Was I in-L-O-V-E?" or "Was I in the idea-of-L-O-V-E?"