How do you know you're in love.

How do you know you're in love with them (or anyone in general):
There they go. As flawless as they can be. Everything about them makes you smile like a kid at the carnival for the first time. You can't blame yourself because you're in love with them. How in the world did you end up here? You feel like everything in your life has happened and aligned so that you could be at this place to meet them. They were everything you wanted and needed. You are happy after a very long time.

When you hold their hand for the first time, their hands feel like the right temperature, the right size. Waves of excitement and joy rush over you and drags you under. Then, you found out that you can breathe underwater. What joy! This is the most amazing feeling ever. The first kiss. The first time you went on a date. The first phone call. The first sleepover. You will feel invincible, like nothing can kill you. You were on top of the world. It doesn't matter if someone came and knock you down. With them, you could just climb up again, no biggie.

Stars, parks and possibilities.

I want to watch the stars with you. I want to lie on top of a cheap blanket, in a park with you. We can complain about the amount of bugs that will be feasting on our very limited but tasty blood. We can also get annoyed at the possibly wet and prickly grass underneath the cheap blanket. Then, I know we'd probably agree unanimously that we'll never do that again.

However, in spite of how much we suffered, I think we'll keep going back to that spot to look at stars. We'll be smart. This time, the blankets will be around us. We'll probably be on a bench, with a blanket to keep us warm and protected, under a blanket of stars, The funny thing is that I'll probably be the one to plan this and it'll either be adorably romantic or horribly miscalculated.

Either way, I'll still want to watch the stars with you. If you'd let me, we could forget the stars for while.

A letter to a man who will never ever read this letter.

Dear you,

I went to your wedding last week.
I was sitting in the 5th row from the front, on the bride's side.
I was seated between a woman in red who smells strongly and solely of expensive perfume
and an old man who smells of baby powder and hazy summers.
I was in dark blue dress because I was hoping not to stand out so much.
I think it worked because I don't think anyone knew me there.

I saw the way you looked when the wedding march came on.
Your shoulders tensed when you heard people gasping at her.
You pursed your lips in hopes of calming your nerves.
I get it, it's your big day.
She looked so beautiful.
I promise you, you looked good, don't worry.
You couldn't see the way she gripped on her father's arm.
She was nervous too. She looked like she would fall if
her father wasn't holding her up
but her eyes never left you.

When you turned around to look at her,
I was happy for you.
Your eyes were soft and you smiled a smile that was only meant for her.
I saw the way you held her hand like
it was the most fragile, most precious thing you've ever held.
Your eyes never left hers, hers never left yours either.
For a moment there, you were in your own world,
you forgot we were there.
Then, you were brought back to reality
when that photographer with the big flash tried to take a picture.

She had this face when you were exchanging vows.
I've seen that a few times.
The first time I saw that face was on the night when she first came to visit me.
I don't remember the last time she was that happy,
I guess that would be when she got married to you.
I hope you get to see her like that a lot.

You might be wondering why I am writing you this letter,
this letter that you will never read.
I am writing this because I hope you'll love her.
I hope you'll love her in every possible way a person can be loved.

I hope you fall in love with her eyes.
because they say the eyes are the only things that don't age.
I hope you fall in love with the way her skin feels,
the way she curls up against you when she sleeps.
I hope you fall in love with her laugh,
the way she smells without perfume.
I hope you fall in love with the way her arms wrap around you,
I hope that you'll always hug her back.

I hope your love for her consumes you.
I hope it scares you and it makes you wonder if you are ever good enough.
I hope you'll want to change for the better, for her.
I hope you'll want her to be proud of you.
I hope you'll take care of her.

You were given a chance to live your life with her.
I hope you cherish it because the only difference between you and me right now
is that she didn't choose me.

When I am in a corner deliberately

Hi, my name is Tryphena.

My talents include redirecting conversation topics to food 

and making people feel uncomfortable with my probing questions about their life.

I am not here to meet people, 

Notice how I am standing in the corner,

avoiding contact with everyone else at all costs.

I am simply here because I am supposed to

or I'm doing a favor for a friend.

I do not wish to participate in your discussion of the weather,

or the debate of whether the iPhone 6 bends "for real".

We have two seasons, raining and hell.

It is not rocket science

and definitely not a good ice breaker.

Oh, did you know it rained today?

OH MY GOD, REALLY?

and here's a tip,

don't bend anything that is not supposed to be bended.

Don't get me wrong, 

I am a nice person but

if I am in the corner deliberately and you invade that space,

you better have interesting things to say. 

I am in this corner for a reason.

If small talk is the only thing that you've got,

don't take offense when I make an excuse to go to the toilet and never come back.

I would usually stay and chat but 

if I am in a corner, people watching, 

please leave me alone.

Unless you've come to join me in judging people by their covers for fun,

then by all means.