This summer is undoubtedly the most seafaring ever. I’m off to plunge in yet another ocean’s salinated kiss even before I’ve washed off its previous salt lick on my skin.
This is the most I’ve been away. This is the most free I’ve ever been. But what is my body’s freedom when my heart is bound with yours.
Even the ocean knows how much I miss you. Even the ocean knows how heavy my heart is without you.
This must be why I haven’t been able to stand on a wave again.
Your public antics (while perfectly sober) put my drunken stories to shame. I would like to take credit for bringing out the child in you. But then again, you jumped into a fountain without my influence and rode the train home with your pants wet from the waist down.
I was wrong about you.
You’re just as wayward as I am.
I had written about you countless of times but never this way. I never thought I would ever have to. Any attempt to put into words any sliver of thought remotely related to you never translates to paper, to words, to punctuation, or to anything.
Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe time will heal all wounds. Maybe there’s no looking back. Maybe some things are better left unsaid. Other than these clichés (and a healthy set of uncontrollable sobbing), I always come up empty.
I have no words. I still have no words. I wonder when I’ll ever have them.
I’ve been writing more than ever. I’ve been writing so much, I cannot bring myself to blog anymore. I’m in this phase where I’d rather live my life than write about it. I haven’t done much introspection these days hence, my apparent lack of entries. But I’m happy; happier and content than ever that there is no need for words or reasons.
And it’s all because of this boy.
For once in my life I know how it feels when everything just works. When there is no need for compromise, sacrifices, or forced reprieves.
And with all this, I still have me.
I shall write soon. There are so many things to write about.
We are across the table like we usually are when we study. Things have been less than peachy lately. I take offense too easily and you do not know how to handle it yet. Nevertheless, our “fights” are less taxing on my heart. I do not feel like having a nervous breakdown at any moment. Maybe I am used to the anxiety, maybe I am less apprehensive, or maybe you are just really patient. Whatever it is, my tearducts are relieved.
You slip a note from across the table. Sprawled in your cursive are the words “discovered”, “excited”, and “together” strung in sentences with your impeccable grammar. I feel my jaw tighten as I tried to bite back a smile.
I do not think I will be crying under a table anytime soon.
“To acquire jurisdiction”, in our terms, means more than it does in legal fiction. You had asked this a couple of months ago and I did not know what to say. I was at a point where I enjoyed a certain “stateless” existence. I was the high seas, a pirate, outer space that no one had exclusive control over. Yet I gave in, against all reason, and embraced all that being subject to one’s jurisdiction entailed.
I never want to say I regret it. But sometimes my heart cannot be as strong as I would like it to be.
The determining factor of my affection is when I start writing about you. You have crossed that mark ages ago but for the sake of propriety, I chose to delay my pen just as I tried to deter my feelings. Obviously, to no avail.
So here we are.
I have an extensive vocabulary and an imagination I would like to exhaust on you. I will fill these fresh pages until they become tattered and yellow with age.