I like you.
Urgh. Scratch that.
I love you.
I couldn’t even think of a single reason why. All I know is that the first time I laid my eyes on you, you blew me away. Maybe that’s how I define love. It’s not about those eyes, lips, smile, the sexy sway of your hips, and the gentle bounce of your holy glands when you walk. Not even how goddess-looking you are. But it’s about how my feet suddenly get nailed on the ground, how my jaw involuntarily drops making these butterflies fill my mouth down to my stomach. It’s about how my eyes see just you and no one else even in a crowd. About how you occupy every compartment of my brain almost every single minute.
It’s about this red thing inside me that’s beating and keeping me alive.
It’s about how it says. How it extra-ordinarily beats when you’re around.
It’s about my heart telling me that I love you.
I know there are a lot of people who think that love at first sight is bullsh*t. That it’s not real. They’re just saying that because they’ve never been there.
But I have.
I’ve been there.
But by the time you read this letter, I’d probably be gone.
Yeah. Literally. Physically. Gone.
See, I have leukemia. And the doctor said it’s hopeless, that I should be prepared because angels would be fetching me anytime soon. So I’m writing you this letter to complete my preparation.
And now I’m ready.
Thank you, Julie.
Thank you for completing my life. For adding colors to it. For making me temporarily forget that I’m sick, for making me smile when I’m just alone, and for making me feel those butterflies and stuff.
Thank you for everything.
Had it not been for this leukemia, I would have confessed to you, made you my girl and my wife. But I have this leukemia for a reason.
Maybe I’m not for you. Maybe there’s someone out there who is more deserving of your love. It hurts, yes. But the thought of you being happy with that lucky guy pacifies me. I’ll just ask God for the guy to not hurt you but love you even more than I do.
I love you.
I can only wish I have a chance.
With all my heart,