Love Letters in Our Memories

do you remember how it all started? not the first, where you bravely approached me in the dark corner, amidst the sounds and lights and excited people, and asked about my passion, without realising it was what i lived for the past years. not when you texted me to come together for a drink but i was miles away and happy in my bubble that is melbourne, and then, upon returning, we had this cold war of no brusque retorts nor angry glares for months. no, not even when she innocently invited you into my fun my temporary respite of close company and, after a night of hesitant exchanges and grudging laughter, we awkwardly made our peace.

bits and pieces of me around you.

those were merely the prologue to our Together – how i laugh whenever i recall the unexpected chain of events that threw me off-course and tumbled my heart into a topsy-turvy wonderland. do you remember how we happened? it was more than a year ago [already, really?], when we began to discover who we were and not who we thought each other was. the quick witty bantering and unnerving mutual understanding that something beautiful was possibly blossoming, but too afraid to ruin that ethereal moment, we left the form of ephemeralness untouched and thus, safe. you turning up with your friends, who wanted to tag along you said, when it was supposed to be just you and me, and i, being too shy, turned my back against them while still sitting close next to you, amazed by how comfortable i felt with your warmth pressing on mine. at holland village, where you sent me off with a tender kiss on the forehead, leaving me to wonder yes? no? yes? no? oh drats, i don’t know! the invitation to your show where you stood waytoonear behindbesidearound me while i inspected the designs and inventions, distracted by your presence and the tinge of pink happiness which was foreign to me for so very long a time.

then we aligned ourselves and walked forward together, astonishing you and me and just about every friend out there with this turn of.. could you call it Fate? or is it our free will? and here we are, June 2009, still a We, surprising, given my track record of jinxing things up and my confidence level – or lack thereof. each day i marvel, each night i fear – for what is ahead of us, for the stories we did and will write -, but for most part, i am thankful, and happy.

my mind could hardly register what you did when you passed me the key you replicated.

thank you, baby, for believing in us.

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