Microcosms of You

From a Romeo

To a Juliet,

If everyone out there can find someone like you, then you are no Juliet. Can you see that now? You are special beyond comparison. You are worth a thousand climbs up your manor's walls. You are more beautiful than the words I could ever put together. The stars? The moon? You are more beautiful than those. The brawling love, the loving hate, the heavy lightness, the serious vanity are things that describe us. Inaccessible because of reasons, impossible because of reasons, illusory because of reasons.

Reasons.

Surely we could deride all of these. The problem of humanity is that we make those reasons ourselves. And that humanity is something that I see in your eyes every single time I swing my legs off your balcony and await your loving embrace.

I now ask a question, Juliet, are you willing to risk it all for love? Yes, we could run away. We could end this story with a happy ending, but I am afraid that you and I will both have to lose something and for worse, everything. Are you ready for that?

Do you know the true meaning of love, Juliet?

It means you are ready to give it all up. It means that you lost. It means that you are ready to loose more. Are we there yet? Have we lost something? I believe we had. We had lost our lives for it. We have drank the very poison love has prepared. We died, thinking we have eternally lost each other forever.

But our story still has not ended. There are more of us out there: broken people reaching out to repair each other. And that is what love is, Juliet. That we fill each other to the rim. That we put pieces back together for a masterpiece neither of us can see.

That is it, Juliet. Do you know now?

More people will try to end their stories like ours. We have become the epitome of a tragic love story, but beneath it all, I ask you, what if we can make it a better one? To the kind of story that both of us will live to see the end? To find hope once more? To change our fate like many other people did? What if, Juliet?

But, as far as I am concerned, that is neither the meaning of love.

Love is sacrifice. I see that now. I see that every minuscule thing we have done to make our love stronger has now made us weaker. We have been brought down by hate and thirst for revenge, and it is by our sacrifice that souls have been able to reconcile.

To love something is to lose something, Juliet. This is important. To give up something is to admit that you are weak, but strong enough to embrace another. And this is love, Juliet.

I may not have said it to you, but you should see the stars that aligned and have shown us that we are indeed meant for each other. Our story will live up until the end, and we will be there to see it.

You are worth more than a million stars, and Juliet, that is love.

R