Dear you,

On a cold Tuesday night like this, it always reminds me of you, every little thing about you even though you are here, next to me, smiling and beautifully asleep. Even after a long year apart, the memories of you are still so fresh like it was just yesterday. They seem to have never faded, not even a bit. I think they are imperishable. They are carved, somewhere deep in the back of my mind, to purposely remind me of those happy times when we were together, to hauntingly remind me of the time I dared to break your heart for your own good and to gently remind me of how blessed I was to know a great man like you.

Implausible as it might sound, here I am a year later, sitting with your favourite book laid open in my hands, going over every big and small event that happened between us, watching you fade into sleep and feeling whole once again.

Although I have tried my best not to, I still find my heart skipping a beat when I gaze into those dark grey eyes of yours. There is always something cheerful, something tender, something loving, something so very much exotic and seducing in the way you carry yourself and speak to people, in the way you frown at my silly words, in the way you sit still and lose yourself in the melody of the piano, and how you give your love so easily.

After all this time, I admit, you are still my weakness.

After all this time, your words and the echoes in your voice are still my favourite things to listen to.

For that, they are so effortlessly comforting.

For that, they are unearthly beautiful.

And for that, they feel like home, as warming as the first rays of sunlight eager to shine away the dampness and mistiness of unfavourable weather, as fulfilling as the smell of sun-kissed skin on a hot August afternoon and as promising as the passionate kisses which often take our breath away.

Today, in this very city, I feel alive, blessed and loved again. I think, if it was not magic, it could only be God watching over us, making sure after a year of parting, we find our way back to each other.

Or perhaps, magic is you. Magic is the way you lay peacefully on my lap, letting me freely stroke your dark brown hair while you fall asleep, and we watch each other in absolute awe. Magic is the way you sit next to me on the comfy couch, resting your head on my shoulder, recalling old memories and having small laughs in between. Or maybe magic is when you look me in the eyes, making me feel like I am naked in my own clothes while sending butterflies down my stomach.

For this very moment on this very day, I want to thank you for every single thing you have done for me. I want to thank you for keeping my world alight. I want to thank you for teaching me what love really feels like. And I want you to thank you for being there for me when most people are not.

No matter what happens next between us, just know you are one of my greatest blessings, always and forever.