The Love Letter series: The first one

Dear You

I had been living in a dream world for a few days. Ever since you said that you wanted to go away with me. Even for a day. I had been thinking of how you would look at me siting next to you as we were on the road listening to that Coldplay song, and realise how you couldn’t wait to start a life with me. How as we sat on the beach at night under the stars, you would hold my hand and say this was it, and I was the one. How you would wake up next to me, drink tea sitting on the porch and tell me I was the most beautiful girl you ever saw, and that it made you happy to just see my face. Then you would ask me to run away with you. And you would tell me how you would never want to leave. How you wanted the whole world to know that I was your baby.
But your life is keeping you away. Maybe later you say, when the clouds descend and the rain reminds us that crying is not such a bad thing. I still have the dreams. Sweet dreams.
Yours
Always
Me
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Love, an essay

I do my best thinking on the train, listening to my iPod and just day dreaming. I think a lot about love and how it makes us feel, behave, live. You can’t control who you love. It just takes over one day and it’s changed your life. You love people who don’t love you, and ignore the ones who do love you. Love makes you happy, but it also makes you really sad. At times, It makes you a wonderful person to know — charming, smiling and spreading that cheer everywhere you go. At times, it makes you a carrier of gloom and despondency, telling everyone you meet to stay away. Love is illogical. It makes you illogical, and selfish, and immune to what we call “good sense”. But it also makes you more hopeful — you suddenly believe in magic and miracles. It makes you see the good in people, and sometimes makes you really selfless, and you live for others. It makes you childlike again, and makes you laugh with abandon. You sleep with a smile on your face and wake up the same way. It makes you the best version of yourself. It also makes you the worst. You forget that a world outside exists when you’re in love. You make it about yourself and what you need. You justify everything, and say, i can’t help it. It’s love. It’s made me this way. But sometimes, it’s worth it. Love makes it all worthwhile. It makes you feel alive and feel things. It makes you creative. It makes you look at this world we live in with rose coloured glasses, which I feel is a good trait. It makes you float and fly. I wish  at times, i didn’t believe in love, but then where would I be and What would I do? And most importantly, what would I write? I need love.