These are but vain attempts to express, by one who wears her heart on her sleeve. Words, much like love, can be ever elusive... ever frustrating... like trying to paint a million stories on a single canvass. If you will read, please do not ask. Just feel. Or at least try to. The meaning is, whatever you have felt to be there, or the lack thereof :)

Number 2

Make no mistake about it. I am here. I am waiting. For how long, I don’t know. I just know that I need to have space to air these thoughts so that what could be my romantic heart (I’m beginning to doubt if I really have one) can somehow have space enough to pump and still lengthen my life. And make no mistake about it, I hate you still, whoever you may be, whether real or imagined. I hate you the more because of the uncertainty and the mystery that surrounds your being. But then, if you are someone certain even if I still do not know you yet, will it make anything easier?

What is taking you so long? Where in the world could you be? Are you even born yet? Have I already met you? If not yet, when? Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid questions…. And yet, the temerity of me to ask!

I really hate you!!!! I doubt that if ever you did come, you can convince me that you are for real. By then, if it does happen, I might be too cold and numb to give a whit of concern no matter if it’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime chances. I believe I’ve already lived several lifetimes. This present moment is one of them. The next one would begin, perhaps, if someone who could be, and who might as well be you comes along. Meanwhile, I believe it would do me good to nurture this “hate.” Somehow, it will help me live out the wait….
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Dear dearest, these are your love songs: