Yellow Alphabets

I have this little box. It’s the same colour as water, a weightless summery blue. In that little blue box, I have pushed you. With all the other things and people I can’t have.

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about love and the drama it brings along with it - the ridiculous fluorescent pink happiness, the fresh smell of lilies and roses permanently drifting alongside, the undying and relentless songs full of promises, laughter and tears.

The drama makes it real; it validates love’s madness.

I haven’t seen the world yet and I’m still putting my pieces together. From the unfinished puzzle that I have left, I’m trying to make my own story. I think I want to be hit by love, bitten and pinched by it. I want it to call me its own. I want it to sigh when I’m not around and wait for me around dark corners. I want it to want me and need me, just like I might want and need it. I want it to shout out my name to those unmoving mountains and whisper secrets in my head about few outrageous dreams.

I want all this drama and yet when I look at you, I want just you.

‘Don’t fall in love’, they had warned us. We tried. We are still trying. We’re missing out on the madness because we are trying so hard to not love. We shouldn’t have to pull back and stop. We shouldn’t have to force ourselves out of love.

You and I, we deserve better than this. We deserve the real deal, with all its drama and madness. We deserve more than pulling back and hesitating. We deserve more.

And that’s why I'm pushing you into that tiny little blue box. Not because I have fallen out of love yet, but because the love deserves more.