I want to be close to you. I want to feel you. I want to breathe you in. I want to hold you and I want to be wrapped inside your arms.

We will lie in a wheat field, watching the sky, speaking our silent language of love. Under a parasol we will stare at each other in hope until we cry for each other and decide to go home. If ever.

Our hearts will be connected, always. Our fingers will turn into vines, they will grow together and become tangled, building the strongest bridge which we can walk on even if just for a moment - an embrace or tender kiss. This bridge will fight against all odds with the wind and the sea.

Now that it is autumn and drizzle has no wind, everywhere the leaves are vermillion, cadium and green. Everywhere you are is where I am. In your heart, in your soul and in mine too. I think of you when it is cold, only you can warm my heart - and pierce it. I long for your hushed voice in my ear and your gentle heartbeat.

We will play those songs we love to cry to. Words cannot express the magnitude of feelings we share. The music will guide us; the passion, sadness and sweetness.

Our love. So strong and yet so delicate like the pages of your favourite novel; worn out from the years of late-night reading while those black indentations are more obvious than ever before, staring back at you.

Perhaps I have forgotten how to love. Or I have simply ignored it because I’m afraid. I have not given up on it, though. For I cannot live without it.