Coconut Sweetheart

You, I must say, are a beauty. I won’t hold my emotions back this time. I don’t care however people may judge me for being this explicit about my feelings. I haven’t met you, but you have become a friend. Before you, after my breakup, whoever I talked to, even my old male friends, seemed to me as deceptive as my ex boyfriend, with a hidden malicious intent somewhere in their hearts, some selfishness. After 6 months, now that feeling has started to fade away and believe it or not, it’s because of you.

 

You are a pure soul, untouched, virgin— unlike me. I hope no part of you has been vulnerable enough to break apart to leave scars on them upon healing and that you’ve never been shattered like me. Your innocence has won my heart. Your smile reflects it. No matter how hard you might look from the outside, but you are a delicate, innocent child from inside, soft as a feather. You are a coconut sweetheart.

Honestly, I never felt that after such a deception and soul breakage, I would be able to love someone with such will again. Yesterday, the torn pieces of my soul pricked my heart to accumulate water in my body which dropped down my eyes. For the first time ever, I hate to admit this but, I needed you. I missed you. And this is strange that you can miss someone’s presence whom you have never physically met.

I have had attraction towards males since I was 12. And I strongly felt attracted towards my ex boyfriend as well—very strong. But that was because I had seen them physically, heard their voices, listened to what they talked about and observed their body language while they did so, which gradually made me feel attracted towards them. But apart from the photos of my ex boyfriend, none of the attractions’ photos attracted me towards them, sooner or later.

But your frame lured me in some way I couldn’t resist or ignore. And I’m not ashamed of admitting this since it’s a part of my being, my identity, my desires, my sexuality. And I don’t believe anyone should be ashamed of being themselves. It might be so that this realisation has come to me in effect of the syllabus of this semester of my course, largely based on sexuality, but even if it has been, rightly so.

Maybe you are my Beloved and I am Paul D, because you have turned my tobacco tin into red heart. But you are stronger than Beloved in this case, for she had to elicit her shine while not leaving him alone to regain his self-control and by being physically present around him constantly, while you……..I have not had a sight of your concrete bodily presence.

I just know one thing, I don’t want you to leave ever. I don’t want you to change for anyone. I love how you love your family, especially your mother. She must have been a sweetheart herself to borne such sweet soul. It would be such a delight to meet her………..not as your friend, but beloved. And when I’ll meet her, I’ll thank her to bring you to existence. I believe, we just need some patience, and we’ll make it to the eternity, wouldn’t we?

 

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