People say I'm weird. Well...yes, yes I am.

I wait by the stairs of my apartment every Sunday morning, scribbling and doodling in my scrapbook. Occasionally, on the wall beside me. I go through old pictures and hang them by my room walls as I waltz around to whatever music that the radio airs.
I cook as I talk to myself. I hum by the balcony as I drink my daily intake of caffiene, always looking around for something new...
...for someone new.
I wonder around as my kitten runs along by my side in my apartment...in our apartment.

I am weird.

Because I'm waiting for you.
I've been waiting for you and for you only.
I wait for the day you would take new pictures of me and hang them by the wall then ask me to waltz with you in the living room.
I wait for the day we could talk to each other again as we cook lunch together in our cozy kitchen.
I wait for the day to daydream by the balcony, sipping our shared cup of coffee.
I wait for the day you would tag along with me as I move around the apartment, making my little kitten jealous of my attention towards you.

I wait.

I'm still waiting.

I roll on the bed as I think about you and trying to remember your scent.
Tears welled up, afraid that I will soon forget about you.
About how you look, smile, sound, laugh, walk or even stare at me.
Afraid that you wont come back.

I walked into the living room to find myself collapsing, melting into the floor.
I laid there, looking up at the walls.
I was lost.
In a world I cant even recognize. In a world full of memories that I'm too scared to know whom it belongs to.
Whom it belonged to, to be precise.
Hating everything, I kicked the walls, making a downpour of papers and polaroid pictures fall on me.

"I'm home!" are the 2 words I yearn to hear from a familiar voice to my heart...
...and today, I finally hear it.
I finally hear it, as a whisper by the door.

"...home?" my heart stopped.

I saw you standing there, holding our little kitten in your warm hug that I want to steal from her.
I sat up, surrounded by drawings, pictures of a man I can barely recognize.
It was him. One look at him and I knew it was him in all of it.

In a heartbeat, he was kneeling in front of me, this man, concerned by my tears and position of sitting.
He was inches before me, deep breathing and eyes filled with worry.

"Were you crying...?"

His voice. It was familiar.
Too familiar that it scared me.

"I almost forgot..." my lips seemed to be saying.
"Forgot what, love?" he held my hand.

I looked at the walls and he followed.

"...you. Your voice, your scent, your warmth, your smile...you. I almost forgot you..." I sobbed.
"Oh love...I'm so sorry," his voice trembled.
"No you shouldnt be. I should. I dont think I can even remember your name..." I pushed away his hand.

I looked up at the walls again.
It was filled with drawings of a man that I could only assume it was him.
I hated those drawings. All of them.
The man looked happy and at his best yet this man is too opposite to even be compared to.
He looked sad and troubled. His body was tense. Tired, even.

The signature under each picture was mine but I couldnt remember that I wrote it.
I couldnt even remember drawing the pictures, so none were familiar to me.

"I almost forgot. Until I saw you on tv the other day. You looked familiar, so I searched the house for your tracings.
I found pictures of me with you, smiling, happy...there were letters and drawings, showing how in love we were then..."
"I still am", he closed his eyes.
"Still, what...?"
"...still in love with you just as much as I was then. Even more, now" and he looked at me.

He was searching for someone in my eyes...
...but I was still at a lost. 
I tried to retrieve my memories.
My memories of feeling so comfortable around this man.
Memories of being more than just happy with him.
It came in pieces and bits.
It burned my heart. It tortured my soul.

Sighing, he gave up.
He took out a flower from his jacket pocket and handed it to me.
It was small and fragile. He put it into my trembling hands, gesturing for me to smell it.

And I remembered.
I finally remembered.
A garden full of white roses...and a faint scent of sweet, sweet vanilla and coarse smoked wood.
His vanilla scented hair that I love smelling each time we lay down next to each other.
His smoked woody scented sweater that I love clinging on to.
It brought back vivid memories. My memories that I cherished for so long.
His smile, just like the drawings.
His laughter, just like a song that bounced easily in my mind.

But his touches...I couldnt remember.

"Do you...do you remember?"

Without me responding or even showing that I wanted to respond, he got up to leave.
But he didnt do so before leaving me with a kiss on my forehead.
And I remember.
His touches.
A kiss every night before we went to sleep.
A kiss every time I fret that he had to leave.
A kiss every time I woke up from a nightmare.

That kiss...

"Sehun-ah..." I whispered.

He stopped dead in his tracks of going to the door.
He turned to me, eyes b with heavy tears, threatning to drop.
He walked towards me like a lost little kitten, finally coming home after such a long time.

He welcomed me in his embrace, engulfing me in that familiar loving warmth.
He kissed my hair like it was gold, tightening his grip on my waist.

"I missed you", his voice but a breath slow.
"I remember now...I remember you" I sobbed.
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry I came home so late..."
"Dont be...you're home. You're home now."
"...you're my home... I'm home..."

He kissed me gently, cupping my face so lovingly like it could break if he didnt.

"I love you..." he whispered.

I love you too.