I want to touch you. But not your skin. I want to see your eyes. I want you to look at me as if you’re trying hard to figure out something. I want to see you smile, the kind of smile that you never show to anyone. The kind of smile that reveals who you really are. I want you. The good and the bad. The confuse and sad. The jolly and silly. I want each and every single part of you —from your body to your soul— from your mind to your heart. I want to hold you and break everything that hurts you. Let me see you. Let me pass through that high wall of yours. Please let me, just let me see you. I just want to know that you’re truly happy.
—  ma.c.a // Let me feel you
I love you,” he shouts at her.
“Well I don’t love you.” She fires back.
“Because if I loved you, then I would notice how you tap your foot when you’re nervous. And how you bite your lip when you’re concentrating. And how you always, always, put pepper on first, then salt. If I loved you I would know that you hate dancing, which makes sense because if I loved you I would know that you’re a terrible dancer. I would know that you can’t look in a mirror for too long because you have your fathers eyes, and those eyes remind you of him leaving. I would know that the reason you don’t drink isn’t just because you hate the taste of whiskey. I would know that the ocean was your safe haven, your escape. But I don’t love you.” she ends, her lips trembling. She stares into those green eyes of his, her breath shaking, the words she had just spoken finally hitting her.
“But maybe, maybe I do.
—  An Excerpt From a Book I’ll Never Write #13
Maybe we’ll meet again, who knows? When we’re older, when we’re more mature, when we’re right for each other but not meant to be.
—  And you’ll forever wonder what did you ever do to let go of someone like me // a.s

Someday,
someone will
hold my hand
so gentle—
not so tight,
someday
someone will
look directly
in my eyes
and tell me
the words
I’ve been
waiting
to hear.

He will
bring back
the stars
in my sky.
And the flowers
in my garden
that had dried.

Someday,
someone will
never let me go.
And I’ll be glad
to stay with him
forever.

—  ma.c.a // and yet, you weren’t my someone

Because
I want to do
something
reckless,
dangerous,
extraordinary—
something
that will push me
out of my
comfort zone,
something
that will take me
far from where
I came from—
an adventure
that was like—
I’m walking pass
through the gates
of hell
but it feels
as sweet
as heaven
making me
gasp for air—

and yes,
it was
falling in love
with you.

—  ma.c.a // Should I fight my feelings for you?
But you see, it cannot bring back all the tears that had run out from my eyes. It cannot change all the sadness I’ve felt—the terrible feelings I tried to explain. You cannot just catch those waves with your hands and throw them to the ocean again. You cannot just pick those petals from a beautiful flower and regret it afterwards, wishing that maybe it will grow more stunning if you let it bloom on its own way. You cannot just let a bottle fall on the ground and decide to use it again even its sharp edges can painfully tear your palms. Because your sorry cannot change the past. Your sorry cannot change all the things you made me feel. You see, it’s different this time. You cannot just break someone’s heart and make them feel worthless that way—then put the blame on them. You cannot just say sorry for each and everything. You should have known that what you’ve done is wrong especially when you clearly did it intentionally. Especially when you did it selfishly.
—  ma.c.a // Because you’re not really sorry

There should be a support group for lonely people.

Not like an actual support group where you go to a meeting every Thursday at 5pm and you sit in a circle asking each other, “how are you.”

But, a support group where you’re supported to make friends and to take trips with each other.

Where some days you mingle and read books and grab coffee, and other days you go on rollercoaster rides or bounce on trampolines.

A once a week field trip for lonely people, with other lonely people. For the young and the old.

Yet, I worry that maybe it’ll make them feel more lonely once they go home and lay in bed by themselves…

—  excerpt from a book I’ll never write #25 // @loveactivist
And I hope to find you,
sitting in a coffee shop,
to where I’ll go,
I hope to see you
walking across
the streets,
while my paces
match yours,
I hope to hear you laugh,
from the corner
of a restaurant
where I’ll have
my favorite dinner,
I hope to look at you
directly in the eyes,
while I say
these words of mine,
I hope you would know,
how much I crave
for your presence,
that even if
it’s impossible,
I still look for you
in a midst
of a crowd.
—  ma.c.a // I hope You’ll Look Back At Me