The story behind him

He is the sizzling life you want to taste, the ecstatic adventure you want to experience, the perfect picture you want to believe in.

He is the pace in your walk.

He is the sorrow in your soul, the happiness in your eyes, the thoughts in your head.

He is the swirling sentences you struggle to write.

He is the super hero at your rescue, the ultimate villain that keeps you on the edge of your seat, the typical guy next door from your favorite movie.

He is the tempting midnight snack, the cherry on top, the aromatic coffee you want to savor.

He is the one person whose presence and absence makes everything easier. 

He is the reason behind your recurring blonde moments.

He is the butterflies in your stomach, the heavy feeling in your chest, the sighs of disappointment under your breath.

He is the words that can't be said out loud, the knot at the back of your throat, the art of sending mixed signals that you mastered.

He is the reason why you wake up in the morning and why you don't get to sleep at night.

He is the eager anticipation of waiting by the phone, the attachment that holds you back, the dreadful process of staring at the ceiling thinking of being let down.

He is the doodles in your notebook, the drafts folder on your computer, the texts you never send.

He is the scent that captivates you, the familiar face you got acquainted with, the tempting comfort zone you wish to leave.

He is the closeness you long for, the silent treatment you practice, the bad habit you can't seem to kick. 

He is the timely "We"s he slides into each conversation.

He is the potential he will never reach, the details everyone seems to overlook, the dwelling in possibilities that paralyzes you.

He is everything you weren't prepared for.

He is made up entirely of your imagination.

Life as I know it

Spotlights, sand, magical moments, dreams coming true, life in colors, songs being sung at the top of your lungs, scenes that take your breath away, pictures, compassion, pink flowers, great food, speed, well written words, a closet full of dresses, french fries, poetry, pearls, cute guys, smiles, hope, hand written letters, secrets, laughing out loud, hard work being paid off, cool breezes, dimples, summer nights, mingling, second chances, first impressions, winning, good hair days, shopping sprees, inside jokes, texts, silent prayers, good luck and me. 

I’m becoming a diary.

The clock is ticking for you to come meet me. I don’t always move with you that is why you miss me the most.

Whispers of what you’re feeling are waiting to be written at the end of your pen. I know I’m your getaway; I have the key to your heart.

The discrete sound of my turning pages thrills you. For you, I’m shaped like a lovers dream.

Just hold a pen and tell me everything. I’m not going to judge or hold the things you tell me against you.

My papers can sometimes be the only thing that will listen to you. I’m your best friend, an old lover.. The one person you can be at ease with.

I know you can’t wait to meet me late at night. And as usual you will not be able to take your hands off of me.

Every second brings you closer to me. I’m soft and delicate when you want me to be, yet I can be tough and rough too. I hold your pain, your secrets, your un-endurable thoughts and mysterious dreams.

You can talk to many, but at the end of the day, you’ll always find your way to me – your diary.

You can ask me questions and from inside of me the answers will be revealed.

You leave me and you come back to me every single time, because you know I’ll always be there for you.

There’s only one thing for you to keep in mind, Don’t you dare take me for granted or replace me with a newer more hip blog, cause then you will truly miss me and you’ll wish you’d never have left me in the first place. Don’t come back crying.

Give me your attention; take care of me and listen to my silences like I do with you.

I can guarantee I’ll be there for you on your bad days before your good ones. The only thing I want from you is more words to fill in the void of my blank papers.

At the end of the day you know you heart me, your one and only, diary.

Hot pink lipstick, your best friend, comfort and denial.

Hypnotized by her charm, he gained perspective of his feelings. The picture in his head of how "she" should be like was ousted by what he was seeing now.

“I can’t be feeling this”, he thought.

Overwhelmed by his charisma, she continued searching for the perfect thing to say. The idea of him was momentarily replaced by “him”. He was suddenly exceptional in every way.

“Get a grip on your feelings”, she said to herself.

Then they went on carrying their conversation, ignoring their sudden clumsiness and smirking at the unsaid words hanging between them.

Fine dining & a dream come true

He stood there, speechless, admiring her dazzling white smile, and the black dress that perfectly accented her figure. "She is mine!”, he said to himself. Not believing that the girl of his dreams was standing right there in front of him.  

Soft spot vs. dark side

Don't mind me if I care too much, but freak out when i don't care at all. 

This one is for me.

I am me. 

I am the battles constantly taking place in my chest.
I am the hardships I overcome. 
I am the expectations I have. 
I am the indifference I fake.
I am the jealousy I hide. 
I am the times I've been took for granted.
I am the love I don't experience. 
I am the flowers I never received.
I am the nights I kept on waiting for a reply.
I am the mornings I kept on waiting for a sign of life. 
I am the empty promises I never make.
I am the admiration I see in your eyes. 
I am the walls I put up. 
I am the dream that came true. 
I am the dream that will never come true. 
I am what I want. 
I am what I need.
I am what I deserve. 
I am the confrontations I took part in.
I am the perfection I strive for. 
I am the thoughts going on in my head.
I am the emotions my heart shouldn't be feeling.
I am the appreciation I deserve. 
I am the attention I get.
I am the faces I put on.
I am the sorrow I lock up. 
I am the infatuation I shouldn't show.
I am the comfort I hardly feel.
I am the hesitation I encounter.
I am the decisions I failed to take. 
I am the happiness I spread.
I am the negativity I shut out.
I am the tears I cried.
I am the effort I put in. 
I am the moments I gave in. 
I am the clothes I put on. 
I am the passion I show.
I am the style I carry. 
I am the jokes I crack.
I am the experiences I face.  
I am the disappointments I put myself through. 
I am the pride I develop. 
I am the favors I deserve.
I am the times I stood up for myself. 
I am the temptations I resist. 
I am the chances I get. 

I am me and this is everything I'll ever need to be. 

She.

It was so long ago since he last thought about it.
Back then he did everything he could to figure out what he really wanted; thinking through the decision on his mind, over-analyzing it. He was inexplicably hesitant; it drained him mentally although it was crystal clear. He just didn't know it yet. He wished he could un-obsess, but he couldn’t. With each passing day he thought about it even more.
At the back of his mind he knew what he needed, but he made himself believe that he wasn’t sure that what he wanted and what he needed were the same thing.

But now, sitting right there in front of her made him smile. He wanted to alter reality so that he could un-live any moment spent before this, un-remember any day of over-thinking, un-dream any other dream not related to her. Nothing ever made sense like this, not even remotely.
By going back in time and remembering, he knew he should have been bolder. Every word, each thought on the back of his mind, every little thing was perfectly right.

In his heart of hearts, he knew this was right. He just had to face himself with it. All of this made him figure out that he didn’t want to be just a good guy anymore; he wanted to be a hell of a man. Now, immediately.

He was proud he took a correct decision. They took the correct decision by being together, by sticking together through it all and now he knows that he can face the faceless days as long as she is there by his side.

The small things

The small things my heart aches to pass on to you, yet you never comprehend.

The small things I ache to describe, but words fail me.

The small things you notice, but deliberately choose to pass over.

The small things you should know, yet never give me the chance to say.

The small things I ought to know, but you choose to hide.

The small things going on in my head that cannot possibly be uttered by my mouth.

The small things that I need to know but the big picture you choose to keep me involved in.

The small things that you make me feel, but are never enough.

The small things that make me see your potential but know you are not fully capable of.

The small things I deserve to feel but are not possible by you.

The small things you innocently say not knowing that it will be held against you.

The small things that sound so real but having them come out of you makes them hard to believe.

The small things you state that make me and the smaller things you ignore that break me. 

The small things I do that catch you off guard but know you won’t take seriously anyway. 

The small things you whisper in my ears that find its way to the voids in my heart, but are never true. 

The small things you carelessly hint that I make a big deal out of.

The small things that keep you winning at all times because you know my weak points.  

The small things you get away with because you know I will let it pass anyway.

The small things you keep mentioning but I don’t notice.

The small things I keep you involved in yet you choose to ignore.

The small things that set a fire in my heart and the smaller things that make my heart sink.  

The small things I laugh at just because you said them.

The small things that keep me on my tip toes yet you not at once noticed.  

The small things that make my heart flutter but you seem to overlook.

The small things you mix up that my mind misinterprets.  

The small things that should remind you of me yet you seem stupid enough not to relate.

The small things I should be hiding but the possessiveness I show instead. 

The NOW

I'm here again, and this time it is more real.