Love is a common paradox, isn’t it? – An Open Letter

𝑻𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒆𝒔.

Perhaps this is the letter you will least expect me to send. It may not start with those cheesy lines, “I miss the way your hair lands on my cheek,” or those seemingly smitten heart notes bombarded with “I would have given you the stars if the universe permits,” but allow me to relinquish every sense of vulnerability I have in my soul to relay a message of sincerity to yours.

Let me tell you about humanity’s torment over the rainbows of intimate passion. Actually, it may be just “my miseries”. After all these years, I will never admit the turn of a once daring soldier to a cowardice commoner, lost through the realm of love, both arms surrendered. Now it may seem a little sardonic and vague, but if you will ask me “Why misery?” it is rather certain that you may regard it on a good note because to begin, these torments hold the breath of my reason. The very breath that has nothing but the breeze of the detergent you have always worn, the similar scent of my parent’s home you have always exuded, and the bittersweet aroma of the brewed coffee that comes along the stains on your shirt.

Basically, it is that in every nuance and bliss I have, even in the mundane of things in my usual days, you have always been a part of it. Through the aisles of the grocery store, between the shelves of my favorite books, and even on the random graffiti I always passed by – I am reminded of you.

I am never comfortable showing the slightest of my skin, but how ironic it is, I would instantly melt onto the warmth of your arms, snuggling to the nook between your neck and shoulder, skin-to-skin. Yes, this happens to be my misery. Love may be a mix of laughter and war, of happy tears and ugly cries, of smudged mascara and loose ties; but I will remain soaking in this rain because I know at the exact moment you have told me, “Let’s have breakfast with mom,” with your eyes glistening of the thousand galaxies obviously delighted by the idea, you are yet the person I was meant to wait for.

“What more misery do you have,” you may then ask, I can only leave a defeated scoff, but you have been present between the lines of the poems I have written, you have been the main reason why the words in my love letters bleed nothing but pure joy and content, and the taste of the ardent kisses we shared incessantly preserves the sweet smiles plastered on my face that this entire time I was oblivious of. I have never begged for anyone to stay, all along I believe it is my misfortunes — an uncanny yet a destined tragedy, but when I drift into a peaceful slumber

on the space beside yours, I realize, I can go offer an entire basket of fruit to every altar there is, just to wish to the good heavens to align our stars.

Yes, I am flawed, yet if I can reach the bareness of your soul, I will walk through even in the coldest and blinding sight of the night, bear the distance, and go through the ends of the world – cliche and hyperbolic it may seem, but oh to be sane I will. It is never mad love with you nor that intense high school infatuation, rather it has been a beguiling yet tranquil encounter that I will constantly yearn for, because of all the odds that can come in between, there is nowhere else I would go but the warmth of the person who defeats my woes.

𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆,

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒆

Written by Trina Agamata

Pubmat by Bianca Corporal and Angeline Ponce