I will bleed crimson. Heal me through the colors of your imagination.

Let's go back to the year 2018, somehow. Just to relive the first kiss of our lives.

I could love myself in ways you never planned for. So, now I let my fingers caress every fold of my skin.

Maybe in your world. While being somewhere around a litchi seed will make you think about me. Maybe I will be more than an annual remembrance for you too.

Allow me to slowly bleed out every sin I ever committed.

In that universe, let my voice curl up through all the topsy turvy lanes until I find that one color that will stick.

Believe in being someone else's in ways you have never thought about before.

You will always be Chandler to my Monica.

Find out a universe that belongs to just you and you alone. The kind of universe that doesn't fixate on what kind of love you should have. Because darling, love is not measured up to satisfy what society finds sufficient enough. Love is the antidote cooked up for your healing.

Make me believe in you and your kind of love the way I believe in that empty glass jar holding on for no one else but us.