Forward we should go - Ibunt ante nos

Dear Mr. Mill,

It has been 8 months and 10 days since I first realized your existence. By far, it is the most memorable and amazing feeling I have felt since I gave up finding reasons to care for anyone. What we have is a one-sided affair where it is only I who does everything.

For the past 8 months, you are one of the typical imperfect person that has that share of the neglect complex. Don’t get me wrong. I am not expecting anything from you in return. I just want this friendship to grow, I want the feeling I have for you to die the natural way, to die like it should. I don’t want to rush into forcing myself to just let go of you and my expectations toward the friendship we could’ve had.

Every day since then I find another reason why we continue to fall apart without doing anything but existing. And every day, I try to fight off that same reasons. It will work, I tell myself. This friendship, this relationship, whatever we have, will grow and will end – in the right time, at our right time. I used to believe that we met at the wrong time, but never for the wrong reason. It was meant to be. I met you because you were to explain to me the philosophies I needed to learn. I met you because I am bound to know that someone is this world can care genuinely about another person without the desire to get her. I met you because God knows I have to. Because if not, I won’t notice you in those photographs where I first saw you face. Because if not, I won’t feel anything upon seeing that picture. Because if not, we are not here where we are – somewhere in the middle and not really moving forward or back.

You are my rock, Mr. Mill. I yearn for you at the most difficult situation all because of the fact that I know you can say something that will totally make me feel better. You are my refuge, Mr. Mill. I find comfort in the shade of your attention and your care. You are my oasis, Mr. Mill. I look for you at the most impossible places hoping to find hope in the darkest of situations. You are the sea in my voyage. Without you, I will not be able to go through my never-ending search for land to step on.

We may have started late and continue to waste more time, but I know, at one way or another, something will spring out of nothing. Someday, when I have not grown tired. Someday when you have finally realized that you are losing a lot by not trying to recognize the very feeling I am trying to keep at bay. Yes, Mr. Mill, someday.