Happiness is a word used loose and fast. A momentary incident of smiles or warmth spreading across the chest is said to be it, or perhaps repetitions of such incidences. Happiness, I never really knew what it meant and maybe I never will. All I know is, at this moment of my life, it is linked with someone: a probability I never thought was possible.
It is just one look at that person that my heart just fills wi
th emotions I cannot explain. The feeling you get in your chest when you get a hearty surprise, or made it through the boards; the almost explosive kind of feeling in the chest. That is how I feel with one look at that person, every damn time.
Yes, this is to you.
It hasn’t been long but somehow it seems like ages, everyday, just the way it felt on the day I came over at your place and we sat in your room talking about the past, trying to hide the pain it brought to us. The night when we were strangers no longer but long-lost friends. The night I realized that was what I wanted for all my days to come.
Our journey through this brief period of time has been more of an adventure, teacher and filled with experiences than was the past two decades of my life. Such a little time and so much happened.
I started writing the day I met you, and you are all I can write about for there is nothing else I can think of, no one else worthy of the phrases my psyche produces and hands pen down, for no one else could ever be you.
In times of trouble and in times of joy, we have always been or tried to be there for one another. It felt like we let go at one point in time, there is no denying that. But no matter how many times we let go, we always find our ends and way back to one another and that is why, I guess, you are it. In the darkest of my days, you are the only light I will look for. The only hands who I want to help me up.
I write to you today not because I have nothing else to do, neither is it because I feel obligated to. I write to you because there is no one else I would write to if it is not you, there never was, never will be.
I write to tell you of all the “I love you”s I missed out on.
I should have said “I love you” when you laughed at my stupid jokes and found my hysterical laugh adorable. I should have said it when you came back on your way out, your hands over my cheek and held on, the chill spread down my spine, I should have said it then. I should have said it when you fixed your hair, dress to look good for my mum. Should have said it when you smiled silently at all the uncanny humor my sisters made in the car, when you just smiled no matter how rude what I said was.
I should have said my “I love you” when you silently swallowed all the hurt I caused you, when you kept it all inside until it broke you. Should have said it when I blamed you for all the hurt you caused me and never took a moment to look at how badly I had scarred you.
I should have said it when you took my punches, my fits of rage and my utmost insanity with patience and care, with love I cannot even define. Should have said it when you saw me at my worst and still said I was the best thing ever, when I kept hurting you and you said the scars looked pretty.
I should have said my “I love you” when you treated my family as your own, when you treated me as a family and I couldn’t do the same. I should have said it when I drove you past the point of no return and I was still the most important thing in your life.
I should have said it when you would quietly run your palms down my hands to my palms and lock into my fingers, all the while indulged in conversation with your friends. Should have said it when you stayed up the whole night to take care of me, despite me having been completely unreasonable before. When it was a cold winter night, so cold that your toes would freeze without socks on, and you took off your clothes to give it to me, the heater, the blankets and all you did was just lie down next to me as you held me in your arms, a look of concern on your face. Should have said it when I saw your face the next morning, radiant with the fact that I was okay.
I should have said it when I woke up every morning next to you, when we had meals together or just sat on the balcony staring into the empty street. I should have said it when it was time for me to leave and you held my hands with a squeeze.
I should have but I never did.
I wanted to but I never could.
I love you, I hope it is not too late.