Oh Maria, here I am again with my heart pining for you. . .
I’m trying hard to finish this book for your birthday,
and I thought I could force my heart to put all its efforts into writing this book out of love for you. . .
But it’s so hard to control its love, it’s like an overwhelming force that wants to break through logic and reason.
I try to use its powerful feelings for you as fuel for writing this book
But it doesn’t want to do that – all it wants to do is be with you
It wants to write poetry to you, to declare how much I love you over and over in endless poems. . .
As if it thinks that a never-ending barrage of poetic declarations would somehow turn your heart towards it. . .
Doesn’t it understand that love doesn’t work that way?
I try to tell it to stop, to focus on the book for you instead, but it’s like trying to quell a blazing fire
. . .And then I feel like the bad guy 🙁
I don’t know if I can keep it at bay. . .
It wants to write to you everyday again, even though I know your heart won’t turn its way. . .
It wants to tell you how much I want to hold your hand, to hear your sweet voice so close to me. . .
To feel your embrace, and taste the warm honey kiss from your sweet lips. . .
I keep telling my heart that we can never be. . . that it should just focus on this book as its eternal tribute of love to you. . . but it’s so stubborn
I wonder why my heart fell for you, the girl with sunshine for hair. . . and emeralds for eyes
The girl with a voice more beautiful than watching the bright burst of two stars colliding
All I can do to make you shine brighter. . . is if I can write something that will bring the whole world to love you, as I do. . . As I will always love you.
I wish everyone felt this way. . . I wish they would all want to give up 10 Christmases, just to hear your voice, to see your smile. . . to be with you.
Too many fake and bad people are stealing everyone’s attention. They should pour their hearts into true artists, the ones who are really magnificent, like Maria.