infatuation

It's not love, but if he needs me to stay up all night with him, I will.

these nights I lie awake with the thought of him on my mind

the way he smiles, the way his warm, brown eyes would light up, how he looks when he has his guard down. his vulnerability is an endearing quality i found myself captivated by.

and i don't know why.

If he tells me to wait a hundred days for him, I will.

time doesn't exist when he laughs, all those melody pouring out from his lips is a song i wish i could capture down and paint in the colors of his eyes, so that i may never forget.

in an alternate universe, he and i are playing cards and we laugh and clumsily dance and fall (in love), but in this universe, i wait.

and i hope it isn't too late.

If he asks me to break the rules I made for myself, I will.

For him, I will, gladly.

life is all about taking risks and having your heartbroken a thousand times over but still waking up the next morning just so you could hear his laugh, his voice, his silence. to see him smile, and sleep, and weep, and exist beautifully and wonderfully without end. to hold his worries and doubt in the palm of your hands, to look up at him and see him smiling without pretend.

i will bring my walls to ruin just so he could see the way my heart is painted with his favorite color, see the way my hands would tremble at the thought of holding his, see himself the way i see him; full of warmth and kindness and hope and sunlight.

his smile is a poem i try and try to capture on paper and write

so i would always remember and never lose sight,

but i could never get it right.

but then, if it's not love, what is it?