I had long lost the thought to write anything. The vagueness of logic remains in my mind even when I pick up a pencil to draw, wet a brush to paint. It seems as if my snobbish heroic idealisms were shut down to leave a turn to my soul to feel. Now I picked up a piece of heart, and with this, I'm delegating it to you. To think you're unlovable, is the worst case of narcissism. Narcissism is not necessarily something to be proud of, unlike as it is propagated. You cannot be forever egoistic, negligent, indifferent...you cannot be forever nice in order to be accepted. This mentality digs you from the inside, like a worm to a fresh and sweet apple, until you finally forget you're a fresh and sweet human. The next stage to it is when the issues start with self. The disappointment of failed self-centeredness makes you believe you're the problem. But it can't be true? I did everything right, it's all their fault! I don't get it, I hate the world. You came with a warm breeze and I decided to embrace you. I don't get how a person can be so compassionate and patient. The moment I was laughing, cherishing the moment with you I thought of none of the above. A spark blitzed in me and I was changed. I hadn't lost the passion to achieve and be complete in this world of agony, but I learned to accept my feelings and be caring, under no condition. I was subconsciously taught that there's beams of sparkling light under the deepest depths of water, and you were the one for me. Your light shone into my eye and fell right into my soul. To keep you needn't me to play with your psyche, nor to attach you to me to further feed my sick ego. I should just be positive, sentient to my fullest...to protect you and me, and most importantly us. My love for you crosses all humane borders. As much as one may lose the passion after it gets physical, for me, it'll just grow fonder. Touching your flesh has become my addiction, tingling my nerve-endings to the fullest. I cannot stop desiring you; though you're just a person, I'm able to shatter the mortal barrier. I'm able to worship you. For one of my greatest wishes is to wake up to you and your existence. I want to be able to observe you on your side of the bed, and whilst at it, start drawing you. I'll draw each shape, each texture. Every imperfection (be there any) is perfection to me and no one won't be able to change my mind even if the sky crashes to the ground. Your skin so white with moles sewn like constellations of stars. Which artist will resist to painting such beautiful green eyes and angel-like wavy hair? Your internal world was reflected so accordingly to your appearance, because darling, you couldn't be more beautiful inside and out! You were the type of person with such character and spirit so as to make a miserable amateur stop seeing the usual figures of darkness. I forgot about the struggles of life for a while, now I can't get you out of my mind. In a fast-paced world, absorbed and stimulated by aggressiveness, you're a relaxing song, a snowy and chilly night in a city of empty streets; your presence resembles a hot shower after a tiring day, a swim in the calm ocean, on my back, staring at the endless horizon and circular-shaped crown of clouds. I like how your face structure shifts when you smile/laugh - it creates an imaginary arrow that continuously pierces into my chest. It does so to create more room in my heart, to pour out to my body when full, to fill in all the love for you. Your love is the melody that fills the silence of my life, the poetry that paints the canvas of my heart, and the light that guides me through the darkest of nights.