I’m afraid of losing you.

I realized I loved you when I yearned to hear your laughter,

The hearty chortle that resonates through the whole room,

Contagious, genuine, the sole entity I ever sought after.

Like the sonnet of a violin your laugh held such a beautiful tune.

Like red chrysanthemums early in bloom.

I realized I loved you when you held my hand,

The electric shock ricocheting off my palms,

Gentle, calloused fingertips, hands slightly tanned. 

Like a tight hug on a stressful day to keep me calm 

Like a comfortable warm bed, enough to make me yawn. 

I realized I loved you when I was losing you, 

The revelation that you couldn’t be mine alone, it was unlikely.

Adoration, devotion, buried under your rendezvous.

Like the stillness of the sand before the great tsunami.

Like the difference between your deliberate ignorance and my foolish fantasy.

I realized I loved you when I cried,

The drunk pitiful lump sprawled on your doorstep.

Sorrowful, woeful, hoping my wailing would reach your night. 

Like the Sun who couldn’t quite catch up to the moon yet.

Like the hero of tragedy trying to change fate which has already been set. 

I realized you never loved me when you left me, 

The bruising of my knees, kneeling and begging for you to stay.

Genuine, gentle, warmth, absent under the veil of deceit I should’ve seen

Like the way you thrived beautifully into a flower while I simply decayed 

Like how I was caught up in the delusion that you wouldn’t just throw me away. 

I realized you never loved me when I loved myself,

The once limp weeds of my ambition flourished into blissful beds of lilacs

Waiting, disappointment, I threw them out of my collapsing mental shelf

Like the realization that without you I’m at a never ending climax.

Like the plaster that fills in the holes and cracks.

I was afraid of letting go.