The night teaches me that there is love in ruins, and I wonder if you know it too.

I swear butterflies flutter and my heart skips a beat (the damn tell-tale thing) every time (I think) you glance at me and I jump to conclusions by trying to give this feeling a name, so I call it a crush, call it love, call it anything that's real because what if it's not?

I admit that I've written your name over and over - on scraps of paper, in books, even on my wrists. 

I admit that all my pens are familiar with every stroke of your name in every language I know.

Tonight the sky is painted with moonlight and dotted with stars and I am missing you somehow.

月下饮茶 念卿天涯