orangestory

It is like a happy ending fairy tale story - a story that young girls adore deeply and carry it to their dreams. A story that young girls would re-tell to the stars they see from their window panes every night, and wish that it will come true one day.

I love my story. Our story. I love him, and I really really do, and I would swear if I could, that he feels the same way. I could tell from his heartbeat, the moment he wraps his arms around me. I could feel from his two eyes, the moment they turn sparkly whenever he sees me, just as if he had won a grand lottery. I always think that he is the one for me. I love how he makes me feel, like everything is possible or like life is worth it. I am much contented whenever he is around, and I am amazed by how his love never fades after so many years we are together.

I wish we could be together forever. I wish my life was a story and I were the author - that way, we could just create as we like it, and end it as we love it. I wish life was a story - a story that we could just throw it away to the dustbin once we think it is crappy.

Sadly, life is more complicated than that. There are other things involving life, like beliefs, norms, cultures, or influences. I feel like I'm living in denial everyday, in each minute, and in every second. I love him, that is a fact. But does everyone around me understand that? Love isn't about logic. Love isn't about what is right and what is wrong because love is always right. Love produces good things and love makes you feel good.

But why does everyone not think we are suitable? How do I define suitable? And who should it be suitable for?

I know you are judging me even if you think you are not. Deep inside, you want us to break apart. You are waiting for the day this beautiful story ends. You don't think this is not gonna work out between us. I beg you please, stop thinking about that. That breaks my heart. You know I love him and each day you are trying to convince me otherwise, it breaks my heart. Deeply. Badly. Painfully. Atrociously.

My love is not blind; I have been thinking about us even before it started. You have no idea how much tears I have shed because of others' disapproval, including my own logical analysis, thoughts, and beliefs. My brain told me to break up, but my heart told me to hold on. It is such a sucky feeling when both brain and heart disagree with each other.

And no comments please. No tagboards either. Thank you.