Your name

 "Describe what she was like."

The therapist asked me so suddenly as if this question was hanging above my head and he could see it. Maybe. She is probably the reason why I am here. I should say it as honestly as I can.

"I don't remember her pretty much clearly to be honest. It's been 5 years since I last saw her. Those sleepy but brown doe eyes kept me awake one night thinking how I wasn't able to choose between some things very clearly in my life. I've always wanted to be decisive, precise and ready to go, but you know it never comes as easy as said. But she came to me.

She came to me as easy as ironic to the concept of love. How complex this thing is while she made it feel like some piece of cake she was ready to bite into; nevermind stale, rotten or poisonous. She was ready to give into it not because she was devoid of it, but so full of it I could see it in her eyes. How her eyes shined so bright when she talked of me to my friends and I heard her voice just getting louder and merrier as my name floated out of her lips like a song she's remembered long by heart. I remember her telling me about a poem she wrote about me in which I was a song she'd sing to birds every morning and night.

People choose between love and life, but she chose me. As easily as putting a finger at the surface of a pond, sending ripples down my heart. I was amazed by her bravery to accept me as I came and moreover, respect her choice. I knew she didn't need to think much. It came to her easily. I paused her mind like the sight of a beautiful sunset stops our tracks; she saw me as an epitome of that breathtaking sight. I realized I may not be a good person on my own, but I was like the symbol of peace and purity for her. She saw me as the white sky just before dawn hit and marred it with its colors, as serene and transparent as I came; she chose that version of me.

How does anyone describe love? They say its like freedom, happiness, salvation and none other than some gift of God sent on earth to keep them alive. They try to find the meaning of love in something they could fit in after absorbing its presence from someone they adore in life. But how can love ever be fit in something and tamed to be acted like that? How can I say that love is freedom when I feel trapped in it sometimes but it has the kind of bars I wouldn't want to escape because it itself is my escape? How can I say love is happiness when I cry with it but still feel the jingles in my skin because that's what gives me my breath back as air? How can I say love is salvation when born from it is a chaos of tangled of feelings and I'm lost in every single path of it but the complex is okay if all those paths lead me back to you? She said that love can't be described. It's the only thing that cannot be shaped into words and trapped in pages, read with smiles and feel complete in. It can only be felt and that's what makes it indescribable.

She's gone but I still feel her in parts of me I cannot explain. I've written so many pages about her and I know yet she'd love to read them, but I can't show her. I can't show her parts of me that I can't describe, that I couldn't trap in ink and read with tears and breathe again. I can't tell her that it was all along love that I felt for her.

So I keep this indecisiveness to myself and walk my path on my own. Maybe someday we'll meet but that's the talk of another time. I'm here, she's somewhere and we're both moving forward. Her name is all I can keep with me as long and forever."