LIKE THE BOOKS I READ

I love reading historical fiction because I love the fact that it is conclusive. But now, I see the conclusion of what would have been of us, and it hurts.

Not because you are a continent away, but because you have chosen to be romantically away while remaining emotionally available without commitment.

It feels like those fairy-tale novels of remarkable love I read long ago are becoming real, with myself as the heroine and you, Paul, the hero. Where two lovers love deeply, are ready, yet cannot be because one does not believe the chances are right.

I mean, you check all my boxes, even the ones in my heart I have never wished to write on paper. And now, I can only hold those qualities as a motivation: that I once had them in mind, and perhaps the heavens will bring another with them.

Hello, Paul.

You pulled me from the first time I heard your voice. And when I turned to see your face, I went speechless. Not because I authored Speechless by Michael Jackson, but because that is how you make me feel.

I feel like walking my days with you, because I know we would not have to speak much to know what we want.

But for now, goodbye to what would have been, but is already concluded.

Just like the books I read...