Take me back to the time when you were just an alphabet

Its bizarre.

I had no idea a simple letter, a mere alphabet, would hold this much volume in my letters.

You have no idea either. Probably never will.

I miss back when L was just an alphabet. Now it occupies more than half of my notes, my patterns to the folders of you, the passwords to my door, my heart.

And while you're just a kilometre away from me, i can't help but think what will happen if I just go up to the office in my pyjamas and talk with you about what's kept you up there for so long.

You'll ask how I got to leave so early and I'll tell you all about my day. Even the anxiety attacks too.

We'll go to your favourite spot for dinner, mine for dessert. And I'll come back to my hostel in that horrid bike of yours, but enjoy the ride. My hands in your hair. Yours on my hips. Ah, I'm a hopeless romantic. And a tortured poet.

But if you asked, said come, let's go. I'll leave all my half burnt writings, my clothes with your thoughts woven in them, my books with your name on them, I'll leave it all and blindly follow you. For you're the fire, I'm just a stupid moth.

Seriously though, what would you do if I came right this instant to the office?