时光机

"Love is a choice you make from moment to moment."
-- Barbara De Angelis

And at that moment, in the past, it was a different person.
From the moment you came into my life, I chose to love you.
Every single moment.

I must confess, at times, I do wish for a 时光机.
Just to change what I've said at times.
Yet, to do so would to be denying myself of the chance.
The chance to pen down what I felt at that precise moment in time.
I'll pen down the feelings and emotions at that moment,
that moment when it is the true me,
the me that is feeling, thinking, happy, sad, angry...
These are the components of me, that made me the me then.
Those are not what I feel now.
The past are events that are rendered obsolete by the passing of time.
The present and the future are the components that matter.

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Yet, these pages of history ruffled some feathers.
And I can understand why.
Tormented I was, by the pages of your history.
Upset by the possibilities and the implications of the questions you posted a long time ago about the individual whom I'm not dispensed to like anytime in the future.
Jealous of the ones (yes I'm rather cranky regarding this train of thought I must confess) who had the good fortunate to have you in their lives, but never giving you what you deserve.
Regret that I didn't get to know you earlier.
So please don't pin the blame on yourself.

If a confession is to be made, let it be made here and now.
I confess.
I didn't bother explaining not only because I had faith in the love I had, the love we had.
I didn't not do so because I didn't care.
It was the from the sharp pangs of disappoinment.
From the disappointment I felt when you made it sound that my love was so unreliable, so flimsy,
so fake.
Your response had a hint of disbelief in it.
Your messages carried a subtle tinge of rejection in them.
Shocked.
Devastated.
Hurt.
I was momentarily lost.
Rendered speechless.

"If I know what love is, it is because of you."
-- Herman Hesse

I love you BBBB.
I really do.
I really know what love is with you.
And I want you to know that I know.
I want you to know that there's only you.
That although I missed out on you in the past.
I want you in the present.
And the future.
I want you to know that everytime you question my feelings,
I feel hurt, indignant, demoralised, dispirited.
And most of all, untrustworthy.
I really do.

I hope that you still belief me when I say this:
"There is no remedy for love but to love more."
-- Henry David Thoreau

I can't find the right words to say, except what I've said.
There's really no cure to loving you.
Except to love you more.

I've taken up the courage to lay bare my soul,
to say that yes, there was somebody.
But now there's nobody except you.
You.
You who is not a substitute, nor a rebound.
Or anything you might term it as.

There's only one person whom I love now.
It's you.
Miss Veronica Chau Jinqi.
My BBBB.
Now.
Forever.
For the next lifetime.
And the lifetimes after the next.

If these are not enough, I'm sorry.
Because these are really all I have.