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Figuring out is the most difficult, they say. Ironies, sarcasm. They make it quite hard to contrast appearance from reality. How can one be sane?
Indifference is my ego defense. But I feel things, a lot of them. All the little things you do, I see them. I feel them.
You don’t know how I love it when you stare deep into my eyes when we talk, and hold it until I gaze somewhere else. I like the subtle touches—they make me crave for more. You don’t know how I badly wanted to hold your hand when it brushed against mine. And never let go.
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You don’t know that I’m dying to kiss you when you rest your head on my shoulder, and it pains me to just touch your face to assure you things will be okay. I wish you knew how stoked I am each time your arms find themselves wrapped around me, yet I can only give you a smile. It baffles me that I can only give you so little when I know you deserve so much more.
I wish you knew how dreamy it is when you sing that one song whenever we go out for walks. I want to believe that it’s for me and no one else, while keeping myself restrained, pretending not to hear a thing. It’s crazy, I know. But what could be more insane than playing that song on repeat when I’m alone?
You don’t know how much I look forward to our time alone together, everyday. I wish you knew how agonizing it is to wait for you, let alone the sadness of not seeing you. I miss you. I miss the battle of wits and the back and forth banter. The moments when we would tease and make fun of each other that sometimes, I’d go fake-mad at your increasingly offensive jokes, to which you’ll make up for through your cheesy pick-me-ups and insane punchlines.
But I also want you to know that this has never been easy. They call me the Ice Queen—cold, stoic, indifferent. I guess you saw that too. I’ve never felt this way for years, so forgive me for not being able to respond the way I’m supposed to. I almost forgot the bliss of love and being loved. I’ve never imagined that someone can incessantly break through the walls I’ve built around myself for years. And now, I’m gradually feeling your presence, I’m at the brink of letting you in. I don’t know how much longer I can hold this in, but until then, I want to know you more. I want to know the reality of you underneath all the appearance.
Until then, all these feelings will be kept hidden, like a secret treasure concealed deep within the castle vaults.
And until then, the Ice Queen will endure holding her fort.
