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Saturday, February 26, 2005

Love U.

Who is the perfect one, anyway?

Who can tell what constitutes as perfect? Is it the way he smiles? Is it the way he seems to know what you're thinking about? Is it the way he seems to know the perfect thing to say at any moment? Is it the way he seems to worship you and hang on to every word you say?

I am not that person. I'm not Tom Cruise with his killer smile. I'm not a psychic and I can't and won't read your mind. I stop and stutter at the very moment you need to hear something meaningful.

But love is like a leap of faith. And if you've been battered and broken because of that leap like I did, it sort of skews your view of love a little. You become cautious and organized. You look before you leap. You wear all sorts of emotional equipment to deal with the leap and possible fall. You wear Love's Anti-fogging goggles so you could see where you should land without being blinded by the ever rolling blizzards of Reality. You wear Commitment's Boots to ensure footing on the other side. And you wear Rejection's parka jacket with emergency parachute so that when you do miss your jump, you wont have to die falling. But as soon as you get to the bottom...if there ever is one...you'll die from the cold either way.

I wanted to say I love you but apparently I'm not a romantic.

I wanted to say I care for her but apparently I thought I didn't need to.

I wanted to say that I would shake the heavens and catch the stars that fell so I could offer them to her...and I still want to.

I still want to.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Pray for an overdose...a pre-Valentine rant

Love is a funny thing, without shape or form, substance or meaning. Yet people died and killed for it. Wars were started and stopped with it. Such power is what I don't understand.

I've given up thinking about all the girls in my life. I've given up thinking what they see in me that's so cute and cuddly. I've given up why I fell in love with that one person only to bite the dust hard.

Love is a dangerous thing to wield. It is dangerous to speak of it and to speak good or ill of it. It is dangerous to behold, lest we be corrupted by it. It is dangerous to listen to its advice and bickering. Kind of like the One Ring in the Lord of the Rings, except that this thing is insubstantial.

Love is truth and untruth, right and wrong, weakness and strength, heat and cold and light and dark at the same time. It is a floating contradiction. It breaks down barriers, or sets them up. It is the difference between an argument and a full-heated bar brawl. It makes you feel draped with the finest silk (or cotton) or it will leave you feeling naked in front of a hundred people you don't know. It can make the most furious storm feel and look like clear-blue-sky-kind-of-sunny weather and the most beautiful summer morning look and feel like a blizzard from hell. It leaves you feeling like a millionaire or one peso short of jeepney fare. It's that inscrutable!

It makes me miss this supermodel-I-used-to-like-who-left-for-UP-in-fear-of-me more every day. It makes me want to hold her in my arms and swear. And this girl I used to love might not look great in pictures...but love makes her look like the prettiest angel I have ever seen.

Love. Better than Ecstacy? Pray for an overdose.
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