And then love came rushing in...
I do not know if it is really love, but I held on the idea that it was.
I did not question the veracity or the main purpose of what his intentions were. All I knew was he is there and I am happy that he is.
All the standards that I set just to build the foundation of what love is, vanished in thin air. His presence alone devoured everything that I knew was true, that I knew was right, that I knew was genuine...
Holding Hands
It is something that I want to do with somebody I am comfortable with. My hands, I see them as symbolical; I see them as powerful. My fingertips are the most sensitive part of my body. I was blinded by the idea that once I am able to hold someone else's hand. It will last for long.
Held his Hand
I allowed him to hold my hand, for the reason that I started to trust him. I allowed him to play with my fingertips for it gives me the certain tickle from my spine. I allowed him to do something, I never allowed anyone to do to me. I allowed him to hold my hand because I thought he was different. I thought he will be different. I thought ours was special. I allowed him... but, where is he now? Where were the hands that gripped mine tight? Where were the hands I hold onto? Just tell me where.
Caressing
For me, it was awkward. So awkward! I saw people caressing each other, and I told myself that I will never stand to do that. It is just too touchy, so much part of one another's skin would overlap each other; and that is too much for me to handle. I do not like people touching me, in what I used to describe as an abnormal way. I just cannot stand it.
The Caressed
It started with a simple greeting of his hand with the outline shape of my face. His fingertips followed the anatomy of my face, as if memorizing all the lines I have. It started to be so ineffable that I saw it as something so innocent and artistic; something more than the word magical could offer. It is something so new that I had this ecstatic sense that I could allow myself to at least explore further. He gave a new meaning to that act I saw as disgusting. I allowed him to do something, I never allowed anyone to do to me. I allowed him to caress me because I thought he was different. I thought he will be different. I thought ours was special. I allowed him... but where is he now? Where were the hands that touched me close? Where were the hands that I look forward to? Just tell me where.
Hugging
I do not do this frequently, but the moment I do; it's either we are close friends in a span of years. Yes, I am talking of years here. I do not appreciate all the hugging because those are such show offs. I do not know. It is not in my personality of hugging people. I choose specific people that I hug. I barely hug my mother. I grew up on the idea that love is not something to be expressed in physical means. That is how I viewed love ever since. Something that is there but still so unreachable; and all the hugging is not part of it or better to say not necessarily a part of it.
Hugged Him Close, Hugged Him Tight
I never expected it, but he gave the warmest souvenirs. He enveloped me inside his arms; thought he will never let me go.The idealist inside me comes to life, because of him. When he is around everything is ideal. And his hug is part of that idealism. It was so beautiful that I demanded for more. It was so new that I never wanted it to fade away. I never knew that I will be this generous. It is as if there is something more powerful out there that whispers prayers for me to be generous when it comes to him. He is one of the few people that I cannot resist; that I cannot say No to. I hugged him back; held him close. Breathed the scent that came from his shoulder. I allowed him to do something, I never allowed anyone to do to me. I allowed him to hug me because I thought he was different. I thought he will be different. I thought ours was special. I allowed him... but where is he now? Where were the arms that held me tight? Where were the arms that I once hold onto? Just tell me where.
A Kiss
There is something so spiritual with a kiss, so sensual that I consider it as divine; that I wanted to do it with somebody who I call my first and last... those did not happen, because he came, and we did not last.
The Kiss
It was my first, I want the idea to sink into him that he was my first. My lips. I cared for them. I took care of them for years. Everything is still clear to me. He touched my chin in such an innocent gesture. I looked at him. He was looking directly in my lips. He drew me closer to him. He drank into the cup of my feelings. He spoke in the language without words. He locked his lips into mine. He is good. He is aware of it. It was something so special to me. I got to taste a parcel of him that is so sweet. He was hungry for an intimate companion. I know I am not the first one he was able to kiss; but I dwelt into the idea that I gave an equal response to an ecstatic performance he was giving me. Our lips knew what to do. Our lips knew how to respond. Our lips were connected to that burning desire of experiencing the delight of having one another. The kiss. The crave. The outrage. Shattered my innocence towards love. I felt sorry, he was too. I do not know why. Once we were through I never knew what was wrong or whether it is wrong. All I knew is it is good. He was too. I allowed him to kiss me because I thought he was different. I thought he will be different. I thought ours was special. I allowed him... but where is he now? Where were the lips that devoured mine whole? Where were the lips that gave mine its purpose? Just tell me where.
I will miss you and that's for sure. I do not know if I made it out of what I called love or just mere curiosity. I do not know the purpose on why you were kissing me with your eyes closed but it gave me the creeps. Did you purposely do that because you have someone better in mind? I do not know.
Well, maybe you were right. We went too fast and yes, too far. I usually hang romances and leave it with an open end. But ours, is different for I do not want to end it at all. Maybe it is not that special for you, maybe it is just different for me. Maybe it is too different for me that I want you to teach me the familiarity.
Maybe you were right when you reminded me of praying.
Maybe you were right when you saw that there was something wrong with the fast phasing transition of our friendship. That you were one step closer to God then when we did it, you moved five steps backward from Him. I am sorry for that. I did not respect your principles. I was tempted by your presence. I did not know the shouting conscience running in your mind. I was not aware, call me selfish because maybe I am.
Maybe you were right for asking more time. Maybe you were right that it was tiring arguing about all the shits on romance. Maybe you were right after all.
But, what made you the wrong person was you left me. I hated the idea and yes, I am bitter for the fact. Still you left. I respected that.
You left and after you did that, I had all these sleepless nights; nights that turned into mornings. I was not productive at all, thinking about senseless thoughts, I cannot move because you cluttered my mind. You were all over the place and so am I.
Remember this, yes, I was badly hurt. But I just want you to know that I do not keep grudges. I forgive you, I forgive myself , too. I forgive us both.
Thank you for leaving me with a lesson that I should have hold onto what love is before; the love that I knew was true, that I knew was right, that I knew was genuine...
I knew much more then than I do now. I saw it as immature standards for love, but those were the standards that made me matured enough to weigh things, I just misweighed it when you came.
And so, here I am blinded by the idea of a second chance; on being hurt, on being left alone, on being kissed once more. I am taking the risk, but I am taking such risk praying that on the next chapter it is not you anymore.
P.S. I just want you to know that I am sorry if I loved you before I knew you. I am sorry for rushing it all and claiming you mine. I am sorry because I can't help it. You whispered words upon my cheeks and that I did not resist. I do not say I love you's as well, you were the one to force me to spit such words. And finally, I love you, I love you still. I promise you I won't wait. If things will fall on the right places then that is the time that I'm already over you. I hope. Pray for me this time, love.
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