The Path of What Ifs and Maybes

I am not the kind of girl who will live with 'what ifs' and 'maybes'. 

If you only knew, I could not live my childhood wondering how does it feel to pick wild berries in English countryside. I also couldn't stand thinking about spring, how does it feel to see the first flower buds in the year? How does it feel to feel the rain pour in your face after a gloomy long winter?

Then when I grew older, I could not live my teenage years wondering the true color of autumn in Paris. I kept asking my self, does the falling leaves smell like the grass after the rain? How does it really sound under your every steps? Does the river Seine flow slowly like the way couples walk in its bank?

I bet you know that I've accomplished my dreams because I hated having them did not come true.

And then I met you. 

And then I fall for you.

And suddenly I walk in the path of whatifs and maybes.

But it feels just alright. This kind of uncertainty that usually killing me feels just alright this time. 

Maybe because there is you. Maybe because I walk this path with you, and time feels so simple. Really simple, as our laughs when we ate those wild berries we found in the edge of the streets, or as our steps under the same blue umbrella when it suddenly rained, or as our fight when we were stubborn to humbly compromise.

Maybe because, when I am with you, what matter the most is now.

So that even though sometimes I indeed ask myself how will it end, but all I find is just silence, it also feels completely right.  

For how long? 

I honestly don't know. And maybe I don't wanna know.

I just remember this words somebody said: maybe it will take a lot of patience and a whole of faith, but it's worth the wait. 

Will you wait?

They tell me

They tell me that is love. If that isn't, then why do you bother yourself caring about me? Like the day when I was outside, you texted me that it would be a thunderstorm and I was better at home. Or like that early morning you woke me up when I was fallen asleep in the couch and you asked me to go to my room. Or like the random times you asked what time I went to bed last night and how was my project's progress. Or like the night when my room was occupied by guests, and you worried that I would sleep in the common room.

They tell me that is love. If that isn't, then why do you like to be with me that much? Like all the nights you sat beside me in the couch just to talk, or watch movies. Or like the day we spent outside riding bicycle when you took me to your usual game training. Or all the times you asked me to accompany you and wait for you while you do anything you need to do. 

They tell me that is love. If that isn't, then why do you do those simple things to me but not to others? Like the morning you suddenly made me a sandwich. Or like the night you calmed me down when you teased me and I cried. Or, if you remember, the night you laid in the couch in front of me, with your pillows and your duvet, accompanied me until three a.m. in the morning. 

They tell me that is love. If that isn't, then why did you look so into me? Like the time you were so excited when your friend asked whether I am your girlfriend and keep teasing me about that. Or the time you made a long stare at me until I couldn't pretend I didn't realise any longer.

They tell me that is love. They tell me they see it in your eyes. They see it in your laughs. They see it in your acts.

Yet, are we so blind that we ourselves can not see the love so obvious for others? Or is it just me who can't? Or is it me who choose not to?

Poemcard #10

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Agustus, 2009