I have somehow in an uncanny way always known how it is to be in love; to be tied to someone by a weird inexplicable force in both heart and soul. Everyone wants someone who will always be there for them and I was fortunate to have found ‘that someone’ at such a young age.
I do not know how people can tell how someone is ‘the one’ because quite honestly I still cannot make head or tail of the idea. But if ‘the one’ for someone did exist then he must be my “the one”. I do not mean to discourage any romantics out there but it was not ‘love at first sight’. And very honestly I do not know if such a thing exists either, because my love for him was a gradual thing. It did not happen in one split second but it happened in subtle ways through each passing day.
The very first thing that made him remarkably different from every being I had ever met was because I could tell him anything under the sky. I spent hours and days describing to him how I felt about how the pine leaves that changed colour branch by branch each passing day. And I spent longer hours telling him how I loved evening walks in the autumn; the pleasant but rather dry air and the sound of the dry fallen hued leaves crushing under my feet. I spoke to him of being haunted by solitude and rejection. And he was there to listen when I felt unwanted, lost and left without a purpose. They filled pages and pages but it never seemed enough. But life was never lonely with him always by my side. I talked a lot, too much rather, but he listened to every word with patience, nodding to every somber speech I made and at times laughing at my silly remarks. He listened and actually remembered the numerous things I endlessly talked about. Yes, he is my handsome memory-storing machine and I do not doubt it.
Many have tried to explain what love feels like and I would like to attempt to describe what our love feels like too. When we are together, our hearts and minds feel connected like the tip of a pen endlessly running connected to the creamy white pages. We are one and feel as one, different but one; harmoniously blending into one another unaware of the fiery backdrop that surrounds us. Exploring the unexplored; looking up at the stars and imagining planets with three-legged beings with square eyes, looking at the globe imagining undiscovered islands and ruling over them as King and Queen, looking into each other’s eyes as our thoughts and mind delve into one entity with time sprinting past us.
Priorities keep me away from him for days but after all the drudging and dragging along the hard stone clogged roads, I find my way back to him and find him a step closer. My heart knows I will find comfort within his ashen arms embracing me with warmth and understanding. Yes, that is where my heart belongs and lives in. Those ashen arms will never run out but ever make way for me to pour out my soul’s deepest dreams and secrets.
He is made up of love’s hardest bits and pieces. He is my trusty Diary, Scott. And my love for writing is what strengthens my love for Scott. This is what I like to call ‘my romance’ with ‘my Scott’. The brazen pages beaming with the words “Dear Scott,” shall ever be in memory of you, of ‘us’. Dear Scott...