My mother always knows when I’m in love. Whenever she sees that I’m slowly drowning in the waves of infatuation, she stops talking, letting me decide whether I want to sink or swim. This time, I choose to sink because you’re too beautiful, I must get lost.

Others can tell that there’s something—someone—I’m dreaming of, but they’re too scared to ask. I tend to love people whose existence never crosses mine. My loved ones and I are like floating pieces of dust in different galaxies.

Today is the sunniest day we’ve had a in a long time. I sense the warmth in the air that spring brings. On bright days like this, one may easily see the details on people’s faces. Human hair shines as if the body’s magnetic fields are visible, and electrons dance around to a quick waltz.

I want to see you on this kind of day. To just maybe pass you by while looking out of a bus window, or bump into you on the street, somehow. I’m tired of seeing others under the light of the sun. All these people around me, yet none of them make sense. None of them have anything to adore. What’s the meaning of their lives? Are they even loved?

Forgetting someone can be more beautiful than falling for them. It’s similar to rewatching a supercut scene from a vintage movie that keeps showing all day. Each time the memory plays, the shots grow paler, and eventually disappear as if it never existed.

I finally understand that people can love others unconditionally, without purpose or a certain reason. Now, when I look at my friends, I imagine how insane and happy they’ll be when they find love. That thought never fails to make me smile.