I asked love to follow my steps. I asked love to come in through the front door.

I liked him. Who doesn’t? As I was on the stairs, I told Love, “Won’t you please give me sign?” I prepared to look back. “If he would use this staircase and talk to me, I will allow myself to like him.”

I looked back. I saw a huge crowd of people. The guy isn’t there. Nope. He wasn’t.

I walked even more slowly. “Again.”

I looked back again, with the hopes that he might just be talking to a friend and then after that he would use the stairs. He wasn’t there. So I moved on.

“No hope. No hope. No hope. No hope…” I continuously murmured to myself while I was walking.
And then I heard a familiar voice calling me, “Chiui!”

It was him. He said this with a wave of his hand. He used the back door of the building. I was startled. With a surprised look on the face, I waved back.

Step by step by step by step… We walked together step by step.

So does that mean that if you invite love to come in it doesn’t follow you, but it surprises you with its own entrance through your heart? Isn’t that pretty annoying? Aren’t we told to knock first before we enter if we’re about to enter a place which isn’t our property? Does that mean that love has no manners? Or is it just part of love’s sweetness?

So does that mean that love only comes in when we do not expect it to come? When we’re unprepared? When we’ve already given up?

I hate this. I seriously hate this. I enjoyed the walk, but not liking someone. I do not wish to continue.

Because I asked for a sign and I got an answer. This is not love! I wonder how long I am going to wait just to know what true love is. I have the urge to write about it. I wish to describe it. And then keep it.