You grew on me

It turns out that people need to see each other to grow fond of each other. You don't know what face they're making when they're just talking to you on a phone call. 

What does it take us to see each other?

Forget job, forget distance, forget material things. Do you see me everyday when you close your eyes? Can you make up an image of me every time you think of me?

I do. Maybe that's why you're growing on me. I wish for it. I wish you would too. 

This something is for you.

You grew on me. You grew on me too fast. Before I could comprehend it. Before I can evaluate it. Before I could put logic on it. You grew on me. Too fast.

Now I'm shaken, to my core. I sit on the shore, staring into the sunset glow. The twilight fills up the sky, while the light leaves my eye and my heart sinks deep. Where love had been, now filled with water to the brim.

You grew on me, like moss on the shipwreck. Stuck in the water, till I get salvaged. I just hope to be put in a museum, to be made an example and to be remembered. And I dread I'd be thrown in the junkyard. Broken into pieces and forgotten.

Even then, I'd carry the moss on me, to show the world, "I can be a good source of nutrient for moss to grow".