The Beginning — Modern Love Letters

When you know, you just know…

But I don’t. I literally have no idea how it all began and I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I started loving you.

I’m too afraid to walk down memory lane, because I’ve seen how it all ends. And I don’t feel like going back to all those happy memories, when they are but this — memories. Distant, cold, gone.

Oh, the river is deep, the river touches my life like the waves on the sand.

It’s such a fucked-up feeling.

When you already went pass the point of no return and you get to watch the outcome of random occurrences unfolding in front of your eyes.

If you are familiar with the butterfly effect theory, you’ll know what I mean.

It’s like rewinding. Watching the same movie for the second time. Only this time you’re watching a movie made out of arbitrary moments, that happened in your own life.

You go and pick up random days and more than random decisions, and you take a pair of tweezers and rearrange them, come up with some sort of order in the chaos, and voila!

The red wire is set and you can follow it — from the beginning to the end.

And it’s not like you can go back and change any small decision, to force a different outcome for this second re-watch. Just like with any regular movie, I guess.

If only I knew what was going to happen… of course I’d do it all again.

Anyway.

I find myself craving for adventure, so the adventure takes me to a foreign country, just by myself. Just me, with no friends, no family, and no people to impress.

Little do I know that I will find friends and family and people to impress in that weird but attractive and fucking scary country of yours.

Little did I know that I would find you.

Hidden in the shadows of a dark-lit alley, happy and ready to bang the soul out of those drums.

Little do you know that you’d meet me and find me more beautiful than I ever dreamed of being found.

Fast forward towards the end of that night — the in-between isn’t that exciting, really.

We say hi, we chat idly, I drink, you smoke.

You crave adventure, I fancy a walk, so we search, find, and climb our way to the highest point reachable in that strange city of yours.

I play and laugh and you sing and I ask the real questions, you give the blunt, brutally honest answers.

This is all it took.

I fall down the rabbit hole.

All I want right now is to spend the remaining of my life stuck on that roof, in the middle of that conversation.

It only took us one hour and a really good talk to realize there’s something there and we have to pursue it — otherwise we’d most likely regret it for the rest of our days.

I would look at you, you would ramble about stuff, stuff I honestly couldn’t really pay attention to, so intoxicating was your voice. But I did love hearing it so, so close to me, music to my fucking ears.

It was uncanny, it felt like I was floating in a swimming pool, and that voice was the water, slowly electrocuting me.

This happened so many years ago, but I can still feel the hunger, the passion, the anger in your words and your breath, your body and those fucking eyes.

I can still see those lights in your eyes.

Have you ever watched the sky during a thunderstorm?

Then you know what I mean. Clear, beautiful dark eyes, with wild strikes of your soul, bursting out from the debts of you.

Mesmerizing.

You were so You, a lot of it. And even then, in those first few hours we spent together, you were so mine. Well, you felt that way, mostly because this would never really be true.

You were also so easy to be around. Never-mind me being petrified by you, by all you meant, all you said, all you stood for, all you were.

That’s when the lighting struck, that’s where it all began and that’s where the most beautiful love story began.

They say it’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

But we never believed in that, did we?