If I were a balloon, I would have exploded. I would not mind, though. Because then you would be the last person to ever fill me, and I would be proudly profound and content knowing every piece of me would remember you the way I always do. I know I said it felt like a dream, but I have to admit that life with you feels like a dream sometimes, that you do things so simply yet so over and above on one plate. You make it feel like the books I have read have nothing compares to you, and the books I have not read do not have enough chance to offer as much triumph as you always do with your delightful smile Perhaps, it peels like a dream sometimes be- cause when I breathe around you, the world shifted and it is like the earth is no longer spiraling around the sun in the orbit that it was fixated on, instead you are now the orbit itself, or perhaps you become the absolute universe. Even at times when we are on our own matter, I still find your face within the glimpses of every blink, your voice in every knock on my eardrums, your scent in between the oxygen passing through my respiratory tract, and your presence in between the intervals of seconds, knocking my heartbeats. It feels like a dream how you can offer the sense of nurture in your emotional presence, and how I can still feel the sense of security in your physical absence. It feels like a dream because you are a definite one in eight billion. Only God knows what I did in the Past to deserve the luck of all four-leaf clovers combined to be floating inside your brown eyes as you embrace the warmth of your soul. And if I could ask, if only I could ask, I would want to leave my own body and swim inside your soul for eternity.