love is a slow kiss goodnight

My first encounter with this selection was way back in college...when i was seeking to understand love. Instead, it was love who understood me.


Love is a slow kiss goodnight.It´s anticipation.

Love is an imperfection in yourself not bothering you.It´s acceptance.
Love is passing up an opportunity because the time isn´t right yet.It´s patience.
Love is a back massage that starts above the hairline and ends around the insoles.It´s exploration.
Love is not having to say "Let´s make love", because you know what the other persons wants.It´s understanding.
Love is being given an honest chance to say no when you thought you were committed.It´s consideration.
Love is both of you remembering protection.It´s responsibility.
Love is saying the perfect phrase to make a solemn embrace dissolve into giggles.It´s humor.
Love is being told "Stop and I´ll kill you".It´s desire.
Love is reviewing the damage to your living room and realizing personal effects are strewn in a clockwise pattern from the front door to the bedroom.It´s abandonment.
Love is seeing what your lover really looks like for the first time.It´s truth.
Love is knowing what time it is and not caring.It´s joy.
Love is the arms around you tightening their embrace.It´s ecstasy.
Love is seeing a new side of a person you thought you knew.It´s renewal.
Love is telling a person if you have to leave, you will let them sleep, and being told they would rather be woken.It´s tenderness.
Love is waking up to find the subject of the dream you were having asleep on your shoulder.It´s where fantasy meets reality.
Love is being there to wake your lover. Slowly.It´s sensuousness.
Love is belatedly knowing why you bothered to buy a queen-sized bed three years ago.It´s practicality.
Love is two people only taking up a third of a queen-sized bed.It´s closeness.
Love is knowing you gave the extra set of keys to your apartment to the right person.It´s trust.
Love is saying good-bye and knowing you will be back by mutual consent.It´s faith.
Love is stretching your arms and discovering the real meaning of the word "sore".It´s a lesson in human frailty.
Love is opening your medicine cabinet and finding your tube of toothpaste turned into a pretzel.It´s adaptation.
Love is sitting at the window, looking out and remembering who you were with the night before.It´s reflection.
Love is hearing the weather forecast for a winter storm and wishing you could spend it in bed with your lover.It´s loneliness.

Love is stories that will never be told.It´s personal.Love is a slow kiss goodnight.

day of hearts

Valentine had never been this special.

The past weeks weren't so kind. I have cried so much. I have lost so much. The only thing that I wanted for today is a good day's sleep with peace in my heart.

(My new Valentine babies from Ponz - Gaussian & Gradient.)

Here's a valentine message in a story: Thanks to Warrior of the Light

Gerson Luiz tells the story of a rose that longed for the company of the bees, but none would come to her. Even so, the flower was still capable of dreaming. When she felt all alone, she would imagi­ne a garden filled with bees that came to kiss her. And so she managed to resist until the next day, when she opened her petals again. “Aren’t you tired?” someone must have asked her.

“No. I have to go on fighting,” answered the flower.

“Why?”

"Because if I don't open up, I wither."

divina gracia

Never did I expect that the next time I will see her would be in an ICU bed at the hospital. My last memory of Divine was that she was carrying her days old baby in front of our terrace. Divine, Vangie and I were housemates not more than a year ago. We were actually next door neighbors and became good friends. We considered each other's family as our own.

During the dead hours of the day, we would talk about everything under the sun - from our "kikay" stuff to our love stories. Just like me, she was one impulsive lover. She and Ken met at the hotel where she works as a front desk attendant in the island of Boracay. They eventually fell in love and that bore them a baby boy, Franz. Plus, she is no stranger to me because she and my cousins in Kalibo were schoolmates.

Vangie left her door empty first. That left me and Divine, and the visits of our family members, together. We became a bit closer. There are times that I would look after her baby and her sister when she had to go to a nearby store. It didn't last that long, though. Weeks after giving birth, they had to go home to Nabas, Aklan. I was able to go their place before, but that was when we visited our parish priest's foster family and we haven't known each other then. Aklan is one familiar province because we have families there also. I even told her that when I go to Boracay, I would try my best to drop by.

I went to Boracay. I passed by Nabas. I thought of Divine and her family. But I wasn't able to drop by because I was in an outing with the whole company. I thought, some other time, maybe. Then, the rest of my thoughts about this friend, who looked up to me and considered me her "ate", were set aside. I knew that she and her baby is going to be well and safe in the care of her family, and in their own place.

This morning didn't go very well. The cold from the night's rain awakened me earlier than usual. I was planning to go back to my apartment early because in the afternoon, we have Angela's birthday party to attend to. I had to catch some sleep, for after the party I will be working again. In short, I am faced with a cold, manic Monday. I have just finished reading good morning wishes from friends and having my traditonal coffee and cigarette breakfast with my mom dowstairs when my phone rang again. It was a text message from Vangie saying that Divine is in coma in a nearby hospital. I had my things packed, so I immediately changed and met Vangie at the terminal.

We had a lot of catching up with each other's lives when we were on the jeepney. I apologized for the many invitations that I declined because I was so busy with work. I missed my goddaughter's birthday, and their fiesta, too.

Yet, we never imagined what awaits us in the hospital. When we got there, information had trouble locating Divine, so we had to double check it with the admitting section. When we finally got to the Medical Intensive Care Unit, we were confronted by Divine's fragile body all connected to tubes and wirings. We held each of her hand and shed our tears, for we cannot bear seeing her like this. We would imagine her baby waiting for her to come home and tells her this over and over, hoping that the thought of her son would bring her back, or even merit response.

She never responded anymore. But we could see the heartbeat monitor rise. Divine could hear us. How we wish we could hear her, too.

Ken arrived in the afternoon and we saw each other at the hospital at night when I dropped by after Angela's party. He had no more tears left to cry. I had to go to the office because I had to work. When I got to work, I had Ken and Vangie calling, saying that the family has decided. After the last drop of the intravenous medication is done, they will take the life support system. That would be anytime as I write now.

To you, my dear Divine:

Rest well, in the arms of the Maker. There will be no more pain for you, only hapiness and eternal peace. You have left us your hopes and your dreams and you have left us, Franz. You have lived fully, for you have loved truly.

We will miss you, friend. I just wished we could have seen each again other in a happier situation - like an afternoon coffee at Vangie's place or mine, with Via and Franz playing along. Who knows? By that time, I would already have my little "me" chasing them.

You are lucky, because now you are safe. You are becoming true to your name. I still have a lot to go through. Unlike you, I will still experience the hostility of the world and break my heart a hundred more times.

Watch over us.

See you later.

friendship

And a youth said, "Speak to us of Friendship."

Your friend is your needs answered.

He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.

And he is your board and your fireside.

For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.

When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."

And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;

For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.

When you part from your friend, you grieve not;

For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.

And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.

For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

And let your best be for your friend.

If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.

For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?

Seek him always with hours to live.

For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.

And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.

For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.


-Kahlil Gibran

gladiator

"I have not forgotten your face,

I still remember your hands;

how did your lips feel on mine?"

Recalling.

As of now that is all i could count on. But I am elated by the long stored love. All the while, I thought I was only assuming. Cried tears in silence, hoping I could set it aside. Nobody knows it, but me. Just like the knight that you are, you knocked me over.

You have traveled far, fought your battles and conquered sand castles. Here I am left battling my own fears, too. We were made beautiful by fate and distance.

I will see your armor, shining from afar.