I've been struggling for a while now
trying to find the right words to say
or write about you.
As the years go by,
my feelings slowly taste bland.
Is this how it is supposed to be?
The longer the years of longing,
the more immune you are of the distance.
The absence becomes too real
that you are actually not looking for
its time of presence anymore.
How tricky it is to get attached to someone
whose time zone is slightly
opposite to yours.
How surprising it is to think about a love
that is going across the other side
of the world.
As these two expand,
the bond becomes weaker and weaker
until it breaks.
Until then no words could be written
down on a piece of paper.
No mailman will be standing outside our doors.
No line will be connected from here to there.
Until then we start over again
with our own selves.