I am thinking of you again, for the nth time
I don’t know how or why you.
There’s just something in you I cannot fully grasp
But it consumes me, it devours me completely.
And no matter how I try, I just cannot escape
I am totally bound to this feeling.
I like you. I want you. I desire you. Though I don’t know you.
I hunger for your presence.
Though we don’t talk, not a word not a glance
But just seeing you from afar makes me happy
And close encounters with you even make me elated.
How could you brighten up my day without doing anything?
You evoke in me something I could not comprehend myself.
You’re like my personal norepinephrine,
A potent stimulus for my sympathetics.
Being near you electrifies me.
You make my nerves go berserk.
You’re just this spark that ignites me
The fire, the passion, the vitality that have long been dormant inside.
You have stirred my deep seated emotions, something that has never happened before.
you have awakened me from hibernation and stowed me away from my stoic ways.
You made me want something I could not have–you.
You have bared me–stripped me off my tough facade
And now I am left with nothing but these raw emotions.
You have rendered me onto this vulnerability I so despise.
You made me confused, and so i am tormented by my own confusion.
Whether to fight or recognize this feeling-either way I still would lose.
For if I fight–i lose the chance of experiencing this forceful stream of emotions.
I may not be hurt but it would harden my heart
Making it impenetrable, stone cold, anesthesized from pain or bliss
Then it would forever be lifeless, a mere pumping machine.
And if I choose to recognize this liking to you who is a total stranger,
I now put my heart into the hands of someone who may crush it into pieces.
Chances are this passion would be left unrequited and I would become miserable
For how could someone like you notice such a nonexistent being like me?
But now I come to terms with myself.
I acknowledge that I like you, so much that I find it hilarious at times
You, who is a stranger; you, who has never noticed me.
But I will no longer deny it, for there is no point of doing so.
Nor will I declare my devotion, for there is no point of doing so too.
Though I know you may never reciprocate my warm feelings,
I choose not to be miserable.
Instead, I choose to be happy.
Happy because I am able to feel these strange emotions
These sensations that remind me I am human.
Happy because I am alive,
Alive to see you, to admire and perhaps later on even love you.
Happy to know that I am not as selfish and self contained as I thought
For I am capable of liking somebody else besides myself.
And to you, hector, the stranger, I owe my happiness.
And for this, I thank you.