Wanting to go back

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    Sep 12, 2012
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I wanted to go back to the day we first met. The curiosity visible in each other’s eyes; the urge of wanting to know more of that stranger that somehow, that stranger would cross that boarder and build a tie called friendship; the getting-to-know-you stage that sends bolts to my body; the questions I had in mind as to why you’ve done such things to a stranger like me; the surprises in store as we go along with the tune.

I wanted to go back to the day we had the first chase. The noisy tune I heard out from my phone as I got your every-now-and-then messages; the early-morning greetings that makes my day; the silly questions we ask to deepen the bond. The similarities we emphasize just know we “click”; the efforts done and seen; the day you stole my pictures and uploaded it in your face book account; the moment you change your status from “single” to “It’s complicated” with my name on it; the day you knew where I lived; the first visits at the house and that face you make as I sense you feel uneasy; the knowledge of where-abouts; the sleepless nights and those nights I fell asleep with my phone in hand; the first Adobo I cooked for you; the days I smile just because you crossed my mind… and the day I decided to take the risk AGAIN.

I wanted to go back to the day I finally said “YES”. The feeling of finally someone branded you as his; the day you and I finally change status from “single” to “in a relationship” with both our names on it; The day you first held my hand; the everyday courtship that assures you he loves you truly; the day we both shared our family; The day I was impressed with our first date. You showed me that night my first ever airplane and how wonderful the stars look when shared with someone so adorable. The day I learned to know you more and love you behind those stupidities; the day you took me out and meet the world; the day I started to love and like the better me; the day I knew that I couldn’t be any better without you and finally, the day I started to feel fear knowing that someday taking the risk to have known what love and to love and be loved again may took me to the place where I’ve been before- broken and shattered, but despite this risky action I am willing to find myself again. Besides, life is a journey and love is a language that only the heart speaks. It’s not only neurons signals that the mind interprets.

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