xx Ella.Z

Everything about him is just mind-twisting. I ain't a detective but my attraction towards him is a mystery case. It was always the same question. "Why him?" I could choose the nice guy I met at weddings or coffee shops who is a gentleman at first sight with good intentions of wanting to get to know me. But why did I choose him, instead? --the guy who made my heart flutter with his dangerous yet enticing words, devious side smiles and suave aura. He seduced my mind and the whole lot of me. He was toxic --bad. But he challenged me, he triggered my curiosity and I keep coming back for more. And my my how he can make me laugh, goofy yet sexy, at the same time. He was truly one of a kind, the mysterious kind --a case that I would be delightful to crack.

Of an early morning work with coffee and his sweet smile. This is a tale of an office crush at the pantry. The day started off with a smile and a simple, "Hi" as every morning, we met eye to eye while pouring hot water in a mug and brewing a sachet of instant coffee. Coyly you greeted, "Good Morning", I could only reply with nothing but a smile and sometimes with a nod too. But then, I paused for a quick second --letting my mind to do a little thinking, "What if I open my heart and let someone new in?" I snapped back to reality as you left the scene with another parting smile and a mug of a fresh brewed coffee in your hand. I guess things would be different by now if I let you in, we might be having a real conversation over our coffee together, every morning instead of exchanging smiles over and over again while brewing that same old bland coffee of ours packeted in a boring sachet.

Inspired by my real profession. The open-concept I highly admire relates back to how open I want him and I to be. Babe, let's be open, As we play this game, No walls in between, No restrictions, Everything exposed, All is seen. Now tell me, Tell me your secret, Tell me your desire, As we stripped down, Naked in such dire, Need of one another. Tell me you want me, And I'll tell you too, Underneath our skin, Where the lust grew. Can you do it? Be open to this? Be open to me? A concept, Of no walls, Bare everything, Ain't stereotyping, Bathroom needs no door, As the bed lay aside, Seperated by glass, From floor to floor. Blurring the lines, Of two spaces, I and you, You can see me, And I see you, Now we're open, Through and through.

For someone whom I'm quite afraid to lose because what we're having is too beautiful. Yes, this is for him, he's simple --direct, a minimalist. Of all the cities I’ve been to, You are my favourite. Caught my eye from the start, An architecture built in dreams, Of transparency and glass, Beautiful but fragile. Yet I couldn’t get my feet to move, Away from this city, Away from you. For I am a lover, Of the skyline buildings, Structured in glass, The open-concept, Where everything is vast and seen. The monochrome shades, Of black to white in hue, Stark but sleek in a way, You ought to woo. A minimalist, Simple yet intriguing, But never boring, It is what you are. As how I like it, But here in your city, Designed not to linger, For that I’d ask you, Can you do me a favour? Don’t chase me away, To leave, To visit another.

Expected and going nowhere is my favourite kind of commitment. Perhaps, I only like the thrill of the chase?  Chasing after him is like riding a carousell --a never ending ride of going nowhere and you'll never know when it stops. And so, you'll go round and round and round and round, merrily until you get dizzy and then, it finally hit you;  Why on Earth would you want to make yourself sick by going on this ride?

You know what happen when you meet your ultimate dream guy? Love at first sight happens. First, it was a splash as I saw you,  standing tall before me.  Then, it came with a big wave  as you mesmerized me with a handsome smile.  And it takes only a second when it swallowed me whole like a tsunami!  I was drowning to have a special kind of feeling right when I heard my name said on your lips, as you greeted me with a simple gesture of a suave handshake. You hit me with a catastrophe that made me unsure of surviving.  Is this a tragedy of love at first sight?  I guess it is right.

He couldn't quit me but selfishly made the decision to quit, anyway. But I'm like a drug that kept him coming back for more. He quit you. Even though you thought you were his cigarette that he lighted up,  smoking high, finding escape, one puff after another, an ecstasy to him.  And you thought you were his tattoo that he inked for fun,  permanently beautiful, carved on skin, one art after another, an obsession to him.  You also thought you were his booze that he drank on lonely nights,  feeling less sober, drunkenly dreaming, one sip after another, an addiction to him. You knew it's a never for him to quit smoking or carving tattoos and even getting wasted.  But he quit you. Maybe you're more than a cigarette he took everyday.  You flew him high in a twist of fate, you were his sweet escape.  Maybe you're more than a tattoo on his skin. Your name is written on his heart once he learn to say it often, ...

I for one is an absolute art lover.  I don't know why but it's quite amazing if anyone ever describe me as an art. He didn't quite understand how she is so fascinated with art. Perhaps it was the strokes in each painting, the story behind the creation or the colours and forms used to make it work as art itself? That awed look she dons every time they visit an art museum, makes it hard for him to decipher why art is love to her. Perhaps that's how people look at him as he stares at her, sometimes in bewilderment. She's like an art to him --a masterpiece that he couldn't possibly figure out why it was interesting enough to make him fall in love, anyway.