A place to plant seeds of thought, tempos, love and bullshit that follow me through the days of my life.
Wherever you are, please know I am patiently waiting for you.
Sometimes, it feels especially lonely. Like now. But that’s okay. One day I’ll get to sit in this coffeeshop touching your hand, watching the world pass us by in sunsets amidst the comfortability of our silence. One day I’ll get to show you the things that I love such as my illogical addiction to surfing. I’ll tell you about the crazy impulsive things I like to do like pose half-nude for an art gallery, and we can lie in bed all afternoon listening to the playlist on my laptop (I hope you won’t mind, I have really good music taste). You can show me the stuff you like, too (I won’t mind).
When we meet, I will fall in love with the way you breathe. With the way you do the things you do, whatever it is you do, and with the way you stare off into space when you don’t think anyone’s watching. All your annoying quirks will feel like puzzle pieces that somehow fall into place against my fragmented personality. But we won’t complete each other, no. We’re too whole for that. You’ll complement me, just as I’ll complement you.
When we fall (and knowing me we will fall hard), we’ll give space to let each other grow, even when we’re pissed off ass hell, without the threat of the other leaving. (Isn’t that wonderful?)
I will learn about your country. Obsessively research about your culture, and flimsily practice your language, as I did with my exes’. Except I’ll rest secure that this will be different. It will be the last time. And the only stamp my passport will ever need, is the stamp of approval from your family and friends.
Perhaps you will marry me. Perhaps you will not. One thing’s for certain, it will feel as if you and I were made for each other.
So wherever you are, I hope you are well. I hope you know that everything will be okay. The universe has a way of making things fall into place.
When it does, I will not run away from your dark and you will not be threatened by my light. I will write poetry about your scars, and I will not be afraid to show you mine. You will be brave enough to do the things everyone else was afraid to do.
You will be able to see me.
Because you were brave enough to look.
And when I look back at you (whatever color your eyes are, I’m sure they’re lovely), we’ll smile. We’ll smile because we’ll both know that this is what we’ve been looking for; that it was worth the wait; that this is what it feels like to have finally, finally found you… -
What took you so long?"