Perchance

Tonight, I find myself lounging around the balcony.

Just like I did last night.

And the night before.

And... the other night.

It's strange, really. Just some time ago, I could remember the two of us soaked under the light of the full moon, conversing about what type of weather did each of us prefer.

We both agreed that the warm summer sun was better than the cold winter nights.

It's strange. No matter how cold the night is, I just don't see myself going inside the warm comfort of my bedroom any minute now.

Maybe it's because I'm waiting for something.

It's strange.

Love is strange.

I don't even grow tired of waiting anymore. I think it's become a habit.

To wait for your velvety voice luring me into you even deeper every time.

It's like... I fall in love with you for the first time with every serenade you sing.

It's like I'm taken back to the first time you held that guitar and decided you have picked me to sing for.

I fell in love ever since.

I still do.

Even when you have stopped with  you and your guitar's nightly trips to the little grass field under our balcony.

I still look down every night.

Perchance, I'll see you.

Perchance, I'll hear your voice once more.

Even  if for one last farewell song.

Perchance, perchance...