For loving me even when I, myself, didn’t even feel lovable.

It wasn’t the all too familiar Starbucks coffee sitting on top of the table or the smell of nicotine we seemingly loathe, probably not the sea breeze or the mild humid air – It was more of those.

Could be the lights, i think, its gentle lambent glowing atop our heads; or the buildings, probably the buildings, its lights reflecting over the water and how it’s angled ninety degrees infront of us like it’s begging to be captured. The boat, could be it, swaying lightly in the beat of the waves pleasantly floating on the sea five meters away from us; but it was our eyes, i’m pretty sure, that brought it all out – the pain and the hidden fiend resting in all of us.

I have my demons and they have it too. And in a beautiful kind of twisted fate, mine’s are compatible with theirs.

This isn’t an open letter, or maybe a poem, could be a prose; but a dedication of sorts. For If I have to open myself up – which i’m still in the process of practising – I would only ever want to share a piece of my mind wherein my happiness lingers on, my bestfriends.

This is my way of saying

of gratifying all five of you

for what I lack in verbally

I could come up with in words.

I love you like a mother

– even more so like a lover.

I love you and it’s

intangible,

incorrigible,

and inseparable.

All too consuming

somewhat dependable

but all too purely.

I love you and it’s enough for me

– no lover could ever rival it

for all the love I could ever find,

I have found in all of you.

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