It’s the little things that people don’t say that really count. Although sometimes I guess people are just too ‘blur’ to notice them; the love left unsaid or the shoulder that’s always there for them to cry on.
I dunno… do I have to explicitly lay in words, piece by piece, what I feel inside? I can’t go around asking people “hey, you know i’ll always be here for you” coz somehow it would sound like the ultimate cheezy line ever invented by movie producers. And besides, I’m not one to make promises. I’m a girl with all the imperfections that entails mortality. I’ve made enough promises to know that I can’t always fulfill them.
But still… is it wrong to say that I still want to try my best to be the shoulder that’s always there, to be the recycle bin that’s never too full, to be the arms you can cry into whenever you need me; even though I might not be able to always be there for you? Am I just a pathetic hypocrite masquerading behind a benevolent mask?
The irony of it all. Me saying all those things but I’m actually ‘blur’ like most everybody else too. I have this squeaking voice inside me who plants seeds of doubt that gnaws and knocks, swaying me and my convictions, attacking me guerilla-like with insecurities. Why can’t I be satisfied with tranquil silence?
Read Aly’s emails two days ago. Between us is this inexpressible thing (and I’m surprised to notice that I can say this with utmost certainty that I’m speaking for her too), tender and silent, unquestioning and sincere, across time and space and seven seas, a feeling that we know and have each other’s heart and that we’ll cherish it for ever more. It’s transcendental, beyond doubt or worry. A safe harbor I can’t see across the horizon but I know will always be there when I need a place to come home. ALY, Aly.
A friend of mine is in love. Ahhh… haven’t seen anybody so “goblog”ly in love for quite some time. Passing time infects people with too much logic and common sense–they regress. It’s so good to know that not everybody does. Happy or not, it’s the intense concoction of pain and bliss and agony and joy that really matters. Makes you feel alive.
I’m not saying I don’t believe in happiness. I do. And I hope someday you’ll be converted to believe in it too.
Hoping that this episode will have a happy ending, as the beginning of chapters yet to be written in your book of life.