CONFESSIONS of a TORMENTED SOUL

Once again, in an outpouring of sentiments. i'm not minding my coherence.

Some secrets are meant to be kept, and some are meant to be told. The difference is that, the latter includes the truth. I have no idea why it suddenly came to my mind, but it did. i'm sharing one of the latter.

I haven't written anything like this in such a long time. More than ten months, as a matter of fact. and the only reason i seem to be writing this now, is the fact that my mind is restless and my heart starts to wonder...wander.. The last time i poured my heart out i was so terribly heartbroken I couldn't seem to mind if I said your name, or if i described you all too accurately. The feeling seems to be taking over again.

There's this fact that you knew. on the one hand, it makes me smile that you do read what my hand writes. My curiosity gnaws at me though. i try to find a reason why you you would save such a thing. or if you ever answered. it's a funny thing -this. whatever it is. let me reiterate myself: i am in a state of confusion. first is as to why i am writing this. enough time has passed for me to stop being so affected about these things. but my knees still grow weak, and things worry me.

self-inflicted wounds, i never got the hang of them. thet don't belong in my world. but it's like a brutal, mental rape, thinking about it. thinking about the fact that i'm still thinking about it. Thinking about the fact, that it's still a fact that i'm thinking about it.

hell, yes. i've done things. joked about it. cried. burned things. but it's as if i'm still eating your dust. ..

no. i don't do those anymore. i have other things.

my friends probably think it's become an obsession. even i think it is. but it isn't. it's just something that ventures into my mind when i let my guard down and i'm in a pensive mood. why do you think i continue to walk around at night? trying to run away from myself and my life, only to realize i'm running towards them again.

now that i think about it, i try not to use the same words anymore.

i realize that those things...

that melody and harmony..

cinammon..

and that MI AMAS VIN..

(although it doesn't seem to exist anymore)..

is still just for you.

BABY ROMNTICA

Note: Pure fiction.

i have often wondered if there was such a thing as serendipity. pure, untainted serendipity. thinking about such sometimes makes me sick, but then...

is there a possibility that a lonely heart finds a love at the pits?

i fantasize..

what if i was sitting in that shop, and it was full of flowers -roses. the colors formed a spectrum that renders my heart breathless. the scent was overwhelming, and the beauty was not superficial. the blooms tickled my elbow as the flowershop man passed by with a bouqet of red europeanas. he handed them to an old man, who was showing the boy a picture of his wife -a grey haired woman who had twinkling blue eyes, even from a picture.

what if i was nearly in tears at the sight because it was valentine's day, and i was lonely, because the prince i had, left me. i clenched my fists, not allowing myself to think about it.

what if despite my efforts, tears began to fall in abundance.

what if i didn't want to stop myself because i've done so quite enough?

what if i heard a familiar baritone that spoke in a flourished accent? i looked up and blinked.

what if i opened my mouth to speak, but there was nothing i could do but stare? because a beautiful face was peeking out from behind a bucket of baby romanticas. it was smiling. no, it wasn't familiar at all. and so i found myself staring at a stranger.

what if he turned just a little bit and caught sight of me? and he turned back to the flowershop man.

what if he picked out a baby romantica and brought it to his nose? then he turned my way and stooped low to hand it to me. hand shaking, i reach out to recieve it.

what if i smile?

what if he walks out and looks back just once to smile back?

what if some time later, i forget about him, the face that made me smile that dire valentine's day?

what if it was one year later and i was in Paris going my way, going nowhere, wasting time drowning myself in the undiluted romance?

what if i close my eyes and drop a coin in a fountain, wishing i find my happiness soon? what if i never hear the splash? what if i never feel the tiny trickles hit my legs? what if i open my eyes and look straight into the deepset eyes i saw and forgot, the green eyes that peeked from behind the baby romanticas that valentines day? what if he laughs and holds my hand?

what if he utters the words i, for so long, wanted to hear?

what if he says, "why do you wish for happiness, when i'm already here..?"