I see you. I see your silhouette from the corner of my eye, as I sit next to you in the passenger seat. We're driving around an empty road in a red convertible, with the top down. My left arm is rested on the door of the car, with my right fingers tapping to the beat of my music blasting from the stereo. We're singing, harmonising together to the tunes of Katy Perry's 'The One That Got Away'. You tease me for being off-key, and I call you an idiot. I glanced at you. Your hair is blowing in the wind, your brown locks dancing like seaweed in water. A pair of Gucci aviators rest on your nose. You're wearing a red raglan shirt, you did because I told you it looks attractive. A pair of acid-washed denim jeans donned you, with your favourite red Vans, because that's the only pair you wear despite owning 7 other pairs of sneakers.
Then the radio switched channels and Blue songs started playing. I love when it happens, listening to music and accidentally chancing upon songs you love. We start bellowing lyrics out, dropping any attempts at harmonising. I put both hands up and try to catch the wind. We're smiling and laughing and having the time of our lives. We didn't key a destination into the GPS.
"Let's be like Pocahontus and embrace the colours of the wind. Let's just get in the car and drive" you suggested. You've always had that sense of adventure. We can spend dates taking the train or bus to a random stop and exploring the area. We didn't have to do anything, nothing was planned. That completely goes against my scheduled and perfectionist nature, I like having an agenda and having activities concrete. But with you, I'll throw any form of scheduling away.
I thought about that and smiled as we continue driving. The road seemed endless, and I wondered if we drove any further we might fall off the edge of the earth. But it was ok, you were there with me. I catch a glimpse of you trying to find the exit of the road, we were perhaps going a little too out of bounds of the city. You didn't want me to worry about directions - which might as well be a good thing considering that my sense of direction is terrible. Whenever you let me lead the way (Captain Instruction of the road, as you'll call me), I feel this immense stress build up within me. You say that you like the way I frown as I peer over the map, scrutinising it and scanning for a way to get to our destination. You like the way I had to have a physical map, the GPS as well as google maps on my phone open just to get to a destination 10 min away. You like my perfectionist nature, how I analyse and think about things. Sometimes I overthink, sometimes I just get so absorbed in the fictional world I made up in my mind that feelings swallow me up and I break down. But it's ok, because you would be there. You won't be asking me to relax and not overthink, that's what friends do. You don't say anything. You'll drag me out of bed, select a baggy shirt and denim shirts from my wardrobe and make me change into it. You'll take me out of the house, and drive me to my favourite mall.
We'll have a competition there, choosing the ugliest and most ridiculous looking clothes and making each other wear them. You'll always put it on, saying with confidence that you can make anything look good. You'll burst out of the dressing room in a 1980s pose and start parading around the store. People will stare and I'll be having stitches from laughing too much. You were always so sporting, not caring about how others might find the things we do silly. Then we'll go home and you'll put me in bed with the latest big bang theory and running man episode on. You'll come into the room with pasta and chrysanthemum tea on the tray, which you secretly packed from a restaurant just now but passed it off as your own because you can't cook. But it's ok, I can't either and we planned on learning together.
Then you'll get in bed with me and hug me really tightly because I like being held. Your arm is going numb but you still hold on. My head fits gently into your neck, and I can hear the sound of your heartbeat. It's slow and steady, a comforting rhythm that is like a lullaby to me. I feel secure and happy in your arms. I fall asleep and you kiss me gently on the forehead.
I smile like an idiot when I think of the memories we had. I like reminiscing, so we spend time talking and reflecting on our journey together. This wasn't just a relationship, it was an adventure. We've had ups and downs and emotional highs and lows. You made me feel a whole myriad of emotions, happiness, sadness, anger, jealousy, wanderlust. But that's the beauty of it - the beauty of experiencing a whole spectrum of feelings and I've never felt more alive. Alive because that's the only state where you can be doing stupid things out of love and still have your sanity. Alive because that's when you can interact with people.Alive because you can only feel such strong emotions when you're truly living.
I gazed at the wishing bone dangling from the front mirror of the car. I gave that to you 4 months after we just met. I believe in shooting stars, dream catchers, wishing well, lucky charms and wishing bones. You smiled and said you did too. Although not justified in science, it's something that we provided a sense of wonder and mystic, and that's why we like them, we're romantics and children at heart.
Yes, I can see you. I can see every bit of your soul and your mind. We're transparent to each other, and we're ok with the vulnerability. I can see the side of your smile, that charming smile that caught my eye and my heart. I can see you, I can see the way you look at me, your eyes filled with love. I can see you, how you love life and adventure. If I fast forward a few years, I can see you. Lovingly embedded in a wishing bone I haven't bought yet.
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