Journal Entry # 45
January 23, 2010
Staring blankly at the ceiling, I was brought to some place familiar. We were seated face to face enjoying the cheeseburger meal we ordered. It was one of those nights when I feel good just to have you around. You love talking while I enjoyed listening. It’s like you’re a piece of entertainment I couldn’t miss even though I’ve seen it many times.
“What???, How many times did I tell you not to look at me like that?” you would asked me when I fixed my sight on you.”Am I ugly? Something wrong?” you would continue. I just said nothing. I’m afraid my vocabulary is not wide enough to describe the beauty in front of me – not to mention your grammar-sensitive ears.
I don’t know who you are – figuratively speaking. It’s like you are enclosed in a halo or a Venus energy that every man is drawn to you. And like Venus, you trash them away – most of them – never even bothered to put to recyclable cans. The way you talk, move, sway, gesture – everything is in sequence and in tune with each other that over all it’s like an orchestra of music pleasing to the eyes and ears. Yet, you are like a baby, constantly in need of care, attention and love.
When you’re mad, you scare the hell out of everyone else. Like it would be the last day of whoever touches you. And I am afraid to feel Venus’ wrath because I am afraid to lose you. You enslave me like you enslaved every man. I’ve seen your Medusa yet I keep coming back for Venus overshadows the dark side. You have left me once and I’m afraid it would happen again. I know how it feels, its draw back on me. Your like a demigod feeding me with ambrosia I couldn’t have with any one else.
Am I spell bounded? No matter how I try to write the ugly you it turns out to be a beauty. Maybe. Walking with you in the dark of the night I do not fear. I would laugh at how I would hide from people just to have you alone. My thirst is quenched just to hear you speak and know that you are okay. Your daily rants and musings amuses me. You’re like a piece of puzzle I would love to solve everyday. Nothing but more of you and less of me.
I fear the coming days. When you will be gone, forever. Like fairies and fairyland dies when every child give up believing. I fear that I might not be able to solve puzzles again. I fear I won’t hear the elating sound of the orchestra anymore. I fear that I would never taste ambrosia again, bitter as it may seem. I fear that I would not be able to solve the mystery of you – forever. I fear. I fear.