I am looking at our pictures. You steal away all the limelight. I can’t get enough of you. I feel so romantic. What drug have I taken. It’s you in the air today. I look at the couple pictures on Instagram, they look so in love and captivated. I imagine you in them, Oh how incredible you look. I save them for getting clicked the next time we meet. If we meet.

I keep swiping at your pictures. You look delectable.

To distract myself from your thoughts I search for a movie to watch and as I watch the movie, I am reminded of you. Every scene, every smile, every line, makes me miss you so much. I close the movie and I just look at your pictures and I read your letter again. I am ecstatic. I miss the days spent with you. I have complains with these distances between you me. Why are you so far away. I am getting sad and I hug my pillow, holding your letter.

I resume the movie and I cannot stop thinking about you. I wish I can watch movies with you lying in bed, with you in my arms, and whenever there is an extremely romantic scene I can just look at you and I don’t have to miss you. I imagine, how you would smile, the way you smile, gorgeously showing your dimple. That inexpressible love filled smile, oh I really love that love smile of you.

I decide to write, to your letter. So I write to you. I write to you in my best handwriting possible, but feelings are rushing more than the speed of my writing, looks like I want to flood these papers of all the emotions inside, but they are clearly not in sync with my writing speed, so my writing goes awry, my words go straight and I feel I can write endlessly and immensely. Oh wow, now your love has made me a love writer as well. I use to think about things to write and now with you in mind, I write so fast, I have so much to write, I can write anything. Oh, things love make us do.

I finally make a stop at the fourth page, it must be something that you may love to read and not a book on you. I think and I read all the pages, in awe. I may write a book on you someday.

I read it somewhere.

Date a painter, Date a poet, you might live even after you die, from their masterpieces, in their words.

It’s so funny, today I was thinking cutting the vegetables, what will we tell our kids about our love story? How we met each other? How we fell in love? How we use to go on those wonderful dates and romantic drives. I am indeed full of love. I feel wonderful. I might publish a book on our love story.

It’s almost evening and as I do my work with the little trick you told me, it works. I never applied it before and it works like a charm. Oh, I should probably listen to you more often than being lost in your face and smile. You make my life so easy. I have been texting you all day, and I know you are traveling, it would be difficult for you to respond. But I cannot stop thinking about you.

So it’s finally evening and just like every day, it’s my time. The sunset time. I rush to the rooftop to see the sunset, the blue sky, the mesmerizing trees dancing to the wind. Joyous leaves singing the love song in my heart. The birds are chirping and little kids are playing in the backyard of my house. The weather is so beautiful today. I walk and I miss you, remembering your talks, missing your fragrance, that smile when you joke and you laugh heartily, I love your voice. I remember our conversation and they bring a smile to my face. I am intoxicated, the little wind, playing with my hair. I feel normal again. I feel myself again.

Sunsets and its dusk, I imagine, looking at the dusk with you, in the wind, with you speaking something and smiling shyly as you do, and laughing with your eyes squished with your teeth and dimple showing. I am looking at the dusk smiling, with my eyelashes blinking slowly having your view and you in my eyes. I run my hand through my hair and I dance a little and I jump off the stairs back to my room.

I plug in the songs and I am reminded of you. I feel every lyric striking a chord with my heart. I keep thinking about you and I talk to a reader, who really loves the lines I write these days. How relatable they are and everything seems like its happening actually. I wonder what would you say if you ever read these. Would you also find these relatable and awesome as they find it?

I remember when you read something I wrote and I was a little scared, what you might think, if you ever came to know the real me, or that I am the real self only when I write and all the other things are just a facade for the outside world. What if you leave me reading all the stuff I wrote? But you sensed my fear and how you promised me that you won’t read it and I can write freely and that I shouldn’t stop writing.

I really like our arrangement and thanks for promising me this, but sometimes I wish you could read them, but I then I change my mind the very next moment. There would be nothing left to tell you then. I now see what a little support can do. What mere words can do? I am so grateful for your support. My perspective keeps changing with you along my side. I really love you a lot and I miss you. Please come back to me soon. I miss you so much.