on where her heart and mind confide

prose

i realize, my love for you has never gone, but rather it grows.

others, perhaps, called it infatuation in my youth, but now, i love you as a woman.

all i have done in the past years is admiring you from a far; wrote you, in the way i can express my love. that's not obsession or something they called, is it wrong for making you a subject being immortalized? my perception about love, might misunderstood by many; that's my perspective, yet i never listen.

i love you, in the way i want to keep the love i have written - just like the poetry that timeless. the literary works i kept and desired to be buried in my death.

i loved you to be remembered, that was once i let myself to fall in love, yet i never want you to be with forever.

and i love that kind of love; according to myself.