For the past three hours, I have been trying to put down my thoughts on you, or at least, my thoughts on how all my thoughts have been about you for the past few days, especially today, and that it did not begin when I woke up. You were on my mind before I slept, which was awfully late because I was smitten thinking about every detail of every minute you were in front of me in the evening, and the ifs and elses of what may or what could happen, and like how important things often carry forward from nights into mornings, when I reached the kitchen counter to make my regular cup of coffee, the room seemed different, and the air seemed different, and the sun seemed different, and I realised then that it was because you had been there, and that we had laughed there, and that we had kissed there, and since then, you have been on my mind, and through the day—which passed slowly, like how the fragrance of freshly made pancakes sways slowly and stays behind—you were there too, and now that it is over, you are here still. Everything I have thought of today has been touched by the thought of you. And this makes me dizzy and confused in a way I have not felt since I was a boy listening to a love song he barely understood and who has, in hindsight, come to know a thing or two about love himself, but mostly, it makes me ecstatic and impatiently hopeful for what the future holds. It makes my heart float like nothing was holding it down. All my troubles from a few days before seem impossibly small, like some detail you forget to mention to a friend and realise this while you do it but leave it out because it would not change the story.
For hours, I have been bargaining with my mind to cooperate, to let me put a few words down and call it a day, but my mind has a mind of its own today, and there is nothing I can do to coerce it. I realised this, so I did what anyone could do in my situation: I gave it free rein, and I let it think about you. And there it went, writing about you, and there it goes, writing still, and if I do not stop it now, it will go on and on.
And now that I think of it, it does not seem like such a bad thing. I could do it my entire life and not tire of it.