Today, I’m looking at the old pictures and saw a reflection of me some time ago. Today I’m thinking of the past and wonder how good would it be if those moments lasts. But they don’t. I think that’s one thing travelling has taught me. Letting go, and although painfully so, moving on.
But this blog post isn’t about that. It’s a reminiscence of the times I knew I loved you.
The first time I knew I loved you was when I told you to text her for a closure. You needed it. I could tell how much you love her, despite all the heart breaks, cheating and drama, you were – maybe are – still very much in love with her. I was so scared then to lose you, both as a friend and a boyfriend, but I let you go. I knew you needed this and it hurt me so much seeing the hope in your eyes. You killed me the first time. I knew I loved you then, and the magnitude of the things I could do for love.
The second time I knew I loved you was your birthday party – despite me hating it so much because of so many things going wrong – I talked to my friend and he told me love shouldn’t be so hard. I knew that moment in a heartbeat without hesitation, I just love you. I just do. I didn’t know about the future, or the past, or whatever shit had happened, in that moment I just loved you, and I love you still.
The third time I knew I loved you – Paris, early morning, I saw you sleeping, and you looked so beautiful and peaceful I couldn’t help but smiled. I thought it would be good to last a little longer. I didn’t know how long we would be for, but I just loved you then. My heart was always yours to break – it was your choice from the very beginning.
The fourth time I knew I loved you – Venice. How a simple text cured my Sunday blue. I missed you then. I really did. Venice was amazing, but nothing really beat the feeling of seeing you on a Monday morning with your luggage from the airport. Then Formentera – our little paradise 45 minutes away from Ibiza. Those moments, the kisses and the hugs, the unsung songs and the unspoken words. They were all memories turned to dusts now.
The fifth time I knew I loved you – I guess I always do.
I am a person that get attached very easily to things and people. When I love, I love deeply. When I feel, I feel everything all at once. I have fond memories of everything I went through – be it pain or love. Especially love. The places I’ve been to, the faces I’ve met and loved, and the things we’ve done together. Those were the moments I wish to go back to but never could. Travelling is at times an escape from all these pain I feel so deeply, so that when I come back again, my heart is somehow whole again.
Just the way it was before I met you.