wanderlust

To the Man Who Turned Me Into a Dreamer and a Poet

Illustration by Eritrea Studio

When you are standing on top of a mountain and you can see everything around you, you will have that nagging feeling that you might fall anytime but your feet would still carry towards the very edge. You will be enchanted by all the magnificence around you until you realize that it is already too late to step back. Falling in love with someone is also like that.

I do not need you like the flower needs the rain. I will never wither and die if I had never met you. I will keep growing. I will bloom on my own. But I would have been a lonely flower lost in the meadow. That is why I am glad that we came across each other. Knowing you was the highlight of my existence.

There were times that I cannot even write a single sentence no matter how hard I try. It frustrates me too much that I wanted to bang my head on a wall or squeeze the thoughts out of my brain. Words would only flow if I am extremely sad or happy and for the most part of my life, I just feel nothing at all. Then something unexpected happened on that beautiful spring morning a long time ago. I met you. After waiting all my life, I finally found my muse.

I have spun a lot of tales about the two us. I have created hundreds of endings for our love story. I wrote poems in every available surface that I already run out of titles. I have dreamed of so many versions of our life together. Those fantasies will always start on the day I first met you. I relive it in my head a million of times because I am so scared that I might forget the sparkle in your eyes or the tilt of your head when you smiled at me for the first time. I want to remember the sound of your footsteps at the cobblestones when you walked towards me and I never want to forget the smell of your cologne which became my most favorite scent. That moment I fell in love with you will forever be engraved in my heart. Daydreaming about you after that was the most natural thing in the world. I found myself planning the most perfect date for the two of us and preparing for trips that we will someday embark together. I promised myself that we will conquer this planet hand in hand. I have imagined how you would propose to me in front of a bonfire as we go on a camping and the mountains will be our witness. We would marry by the sea because our love will be as vast and bottomless as its depth. I have envisioned that moment when I finally tell you that you are going to be a father and how I would look like when I am swollen with your baby within my womb. I have created names for our future children which I carefully wrote down in my journal so I won’t forget. We will have a big family and we will go on picnics during weekends. The children will love books as much as we both do. We will fight sometimes over which channel to watch or which restaurant to eat. I will get jealous when you go home late because you finished some work at the office and you will do the same when I did that too. We will get angry with each other over some stupid things but we will still choose to grow old together. Someday, as we sit on our rocking chair by the porch while our grandchildren played inside the house, I will give you my journal that I never I allowed you to read. With your reading glasses perch on your nose, you will peruse every line I have written all through these years. You will find out that each sentence I wrote was lovingly written for you. Tears will run down on your weathered cheeks and your gnarled hands will slowly reach out to caress my hair already streaked with white strands. I will look at you and without saying a word, you will understand that I was the happiest woman in the entire galaxy for having the chance to spend this lifetime with you and that you will always be the brightest constellation in my universe. You will then have that same sparkle in your eyes just like the day I first met you.

Those were my most beautiful dreams and I will make them happen. It may take a very long time but someday, somehow, I know that they will become a reality. They will not remain as figments of my imagination. I do not know when I’ll stop writing about you. Perhaps tomorrow, next week, next year, next decade or next century. Or maybe I will never stop until eternity. Perhaps I am doomed to forever hold a pen that only writes about you.

Because there will always be that one person who can turn us into dreamers and poets. I found mine and it is you.

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Written by Avena Danae

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