The Summer and Her.

Love is there,

It is everywhere and in each part of the day.. within the sunshine walks around you
or the moonlight over two lovers...
And for the art of love, you have been spending your life holding up.
And wherever you want to get coffee or giggle around your shadow, you are surrounded with intimacy and passion you wouldn’t relate to.


But for me? Love was never my thing, even when I’m in love.. or I can say when I thought that I was in love, I was never that type of person.

Realizing that there’s a huge gap between being in love and a passionate lover who’s good at expressing feelings within different methods and different acts.

A person who writes about love or how painful it could be and not similar to me..not only because I haven’t been feeling it but because wording my state that way and for that exact subject just doesn’t feel like my mix of Gemini and Cancer.



I knew it, I’m more of a practical person...
I let go...
I get over people quickly...
I run over dreams and a whole lot of dreams...


But now and just now,
I realized that this is how I've always wanted myself to be...
I always needed to easily forget, always wanted to move on, so I always did.
It was never a struggle for my entire lifetime and years.

Crawling to what has been going on here, figuring out that it doesn't feel like me..it has always been possible to throw all the memories in a bin and topple.

Yes, I haven't known you for ages nor a "Century".. but loving you had me exploring myself on a new different level as it is pleasing more...
More than being a need actually,
I enjoy how I enjoy my time talking to you, and I love my reflection in the mirror because someway you existed in my happy and sad features.
I love how am I a softer version of myself while I’m talking to you,

And I love how I can't resist the cheesiness out of me in every possible way that I can use to express how much you represent joy.

I admit it, love.

I love you more than all of the expectations I once thought were true,
I love you that it makes me wanna cry writing now to you because I never thought I could love anyone so distinctively,
I love my weakness of falling between your arms,
And the warmth in you is the definition of old souls,
I love you and I still want to love you till my last breath... it’s not the nights we spend exploring how matching we are nor the ink,
Never the endless stiffness and never the flowing kissing,
And not the hair...
It's just that definition of perfection was meant to fit no one but you... I love that you're always a part of the bluish sky and a cold fizzy breeze that comes once on a hot summer day,

And I love how I’d blame you hard for not making me see the beauty in others because of you taking it all.

And I hate how I suck at showing my love to you.

...And now why did you leave before knowing all of the love I had for you?