Life was playing tricks with me.
As soon as I made up my mind to present her my heart, she went out on quests of her own and became unreachable. Courage, like sand, was slipping through my fingers as I waited for her return; I lost most of it, but fortunately, some still stayed in the cracks of my hands.
As I waited, I doubted myself and my purpose here, and I thought of how she has melted my heart. Everything, then, began to form into a space for a gallery full of her images. Who is the artist? Walking through the hall of memories, I am certain how I feel for her is real. The fall is real.
I guess, these were just meaningless thoughts. The night is late.
These were just meaningless thoughts. I just want to, while I still can, tell you how much I love you.