To my husband.
Hi. I don't know who you are. Or to what extent you'll be able to fulfill my fairytale, but I'm pretty sure that the reason why you ARE my husband is because I love you.
The word husband itself baffles me. I am young. I am 21 years old. I don't know how old I am when you'll be reading this, but there was a time that I am a little girl. A young woman.
It's hard to accept responsibility, to accept that I am a wife by this time... the concept is just so extremely unapplicable right now, it's almost foreign. But I know that one day I'm going to be a wife.
I don't want a second marriage. Or a third. I just want this one blessing... this one marriage.
Seriously, right now, this is so hard for me to write. Maybe the cynicism of this concept, this obsession, has finally gotten to me.. like, reached the core.
I am not in the proper position to write this letter... like a not so close acquaintance giving a wedding speech.
But to my husband.
Please save me. Please prove me wrong. Please fight for me and not let any man get me and not let any woman get you. I don't know how this works.
Im young. But I'll be a wife someday. And I'll be peaceful and happy because I'll be tired of all this sick drama.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
muse
I had a date with my ex the other night. Twas absolutely innocent. Even my intentions were innocent.
This guy is all tattooed and goateed. He's not skinny. Not fat, mind you, but not skinny. He has the manners of a 12 year old--unpolished.
I was in my foxy business clothes.. short lacy skirt, highheels, expensive bag, low cut blouse, makeup. I was beautiful. In control. Funny.
But that night I remembered every reason I fell in love with him. He's funny. He's not bad looking (he's not much of a looker either though). He's fun. And most of all he's an AMAZING kisser.
Then the morning after, after having realized he hickey-ed my lips..... all the reasons why I hate him came rushing back at me. He's a jerk. He did not reply to my text, he claimed he was busy... ugh.
Sinong tanga?
This guy is all tattooed and goateed. He's not skinny. Not fat, mind you, but not skinny. He has the manners of a 12 year old--unpolished.
I was in my foxy business clothes.. short lacy skirt, highheels, expensive bag, low cut blouse, makeup. I was beautiful. In control. Funny.
But that night I remembered every reason I fell in love with him. He's funny. He's not bad looking (he's not much of a looker either though). He's fun. And most of all he's an AMAZING kisser.
Then the morning after, after having realized he hickey-ed my lips..... all the reasons why I hate him came rushing back at me. He's a jerk. He did not reply to my text, he claimed he was busy... ugh.
Sinong tanga?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)