This is for
you, the boy with the plaid shirt.
The one
with the hesitant awkward grin. The one with the bug-eyed expression.
The boy who
hides behind a veil of silence and hesitation.
You don’t
have a lot to say most of the times, often opting to listen. Sliding quirky
remarks and subtle jokes in conversations, you have a sense of humour that
never fails to amuse me. Scarcely fond to other homo-sapiens, your care for
animals (scales and all) shakes me out of reality and straight into
fantasy-land. Seeing you so fond and the outright light shining in your eyes,
the amount of love right there, oh boy, how blessed I am to have you.
Let me
measure how I love thee.
From the
tip of your cropped hair to your unshaven beard, from the peak of your amused
eyebrows to the tip of your tapping fingers, from the upturned collar to the
holes of your socks.
Let me
count the ways I love you.
As a friend
I can rest with, complete with eager eyes and witty rapports,
As a person
I can rely on, with non-wavering hands and quiet support,
As a lover
that I see myself with, unconventional and silently strong.
Oh how I am
in love with you.
You’re the
one that I want, you see. Some people may scoff at me, murmur that I’m being
naïve, that no such thing can be said with such certainty.
But I feel
it, in my bones.
With every
laughter, smile and even fights, I feel it in my gut, my bones, heck, even my
toes. You’re the one that I ruddy want to be with. And if hell breaks loose,
and tear us apart, just know that in all the parallel universes, I’m sure one
of my alternate selves is with your alternate self.
