i, too, am

pondered on he never gave me flowers... 

"chase is better than the capture," as others would put it. it sure is! i, too, am a sentimental person. i love to be pampered and cared. i appreciate sweet nothings. i have a weakness for romantic, touchy guys. i am keen on being adored. and flowers knock me off my feet more than a man's physical features. why not? flowers, apart from chocolates, are made for gurls. (not for some, though.)

i, too, am a sucker for my guy's steady nature and i simply love the warm feeling and the comfort when i lean against him. but my guy's not perfect. he's nobody fancy. but i salute his patience and perseverance during those long agonizing days of courtship to finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

from the premise that nothing's perfect, our relationship's not that too. we pick up fights, we get on each other's nerves, we argue. ours is no different from a rollercoaster ride. (cliché, huh?) and he never gave me flowers. er, he did, twice. once while courting and second during our first month. given this fact, i can't help but picture my small room adorned with yellow flowers from guy hopefuls back then. then changes slowly got to my senses and fear sunk in. i find myself yearning for that sensitivity, maturity and the once-romantic moments. all these and more hinanakits here and there but everything just all come down to one simple fact: i love him in spite and despite these all.

then i came to terms with myself. why the hell would i turn him into someone he’s not? why turn a bat’s color to white? why make the moon rise in the morning? everybody is created with sets of uniqueness. be it in physique, upbringing, character, attitude, beliefs, and the like. my guy’s a unique creation. he has his own principles and is driven by his own ideals. for seven months now i have bombarded myself with questions i still do not have answers to. but then again why bother looking for explanations human beings can’t fathom and only God can?

instead of whining why he’s this and not that and why doesn’t he wanna write me a friendster testimony and why doesn’t he wanna give me flowers anymore (and the list continues)… why not be happy for who and what i have without asking for anything more? i am one hell of a lucky hominid for being provided for. not all people get what they want and from the very moment i felt i wanted him more than anybody else, he simply came right at my doorstep, knocked at my door and offered himself without reservations. lucky me!

i used to say i don’t have standards but deep inside i know i do. but whether or not my man passed my standards, i feel blessed having him around. standards are just a touchstone, a paradigm not mandated to be adhered to. just freed my spirit and let my heart do the talking.

now, if i ask him to get the flower on top of the mountain cliff and mean his death, then who would fix my YM and chikka during those times when these programs wouldn't seem to cooperate with me? whose legs would climb up to the 5th floor of mintrade building if i left something behind? (though the elevator is a big help.) who would map a network drive for me if i get lost looking for a shared folder? who would understand my mood swings and tantrums whenever my "good friend" visits me every month? who's creative, close to insane, mind would cheer me up during those lowly times? (a good comic relief is by the way, the way he dances.) whose chinito eyes would gaze deep into my set of chinita ones and tell me something reassuring scaring my worries away? whose arms would lock me in a tight embrace sending my fears to pluto? (er, tao po ako, di unan) whose feet would fit my blue tweety bedroom slippers which is 3.5 inches bigger than my feet? whose fingers perfectly fit the spaces in mine even if they’re twice as big?

loving is exposing myself to risks. risks include being hurt. being hurt is just something i can get over with in time. but my choi? he came once before and i almost lost him. that is the risk i am about to take if i pressure this man to live by my guidelines and specifications. now, all i know is i love my man, my choi... even without the flowers. screw the flowers! (mmm… a small bouquet or two from time to time would do no hurt, though. hint, hint!)

originally posted on may 18, 2005 @ friendster blogs