I spelled it correctly, didn’t I?
It’s been a month and a week, and I could honestly say that I’ve been living a happier life ever since you’ve confessed to me with this geeky-courtship of yours and of your dopamine-endorphin-Jessamine-filled moments.
It was the second week of August when you first held my hand. I remember you holding me for a second, then freeing it the next, and so was I. Suddenly, it became like a part of me that I wouldn’t let go. And the rain–I could not remember the last time I was happy when it rained. Even your left side and my right side were were wet, my left side and your right side were dry. A moment that could last a life time.
And you know what makes me happier? It’s the fact that no one of us is “dominant”. There’s no “uncomfortable feeling” when you hold my hand. None, my dearest.
And the Thursday of the third week of September when we counted five MRT jeepneys but we just couldn’t let go of each other.
And the 23rd of September, Remarkable day, it is. It’s fine if you’d make me cry, as long as you make me smile the next second. My dearest, don’t worry. I’m happy.
Numbers are not enough to express what I feel, not even “548 or 143 or 192231”. Hormones are not enough to explain the feeling, not even “endorphin or dopamine”.
And as I have said…
Deep inside, even with this paranoia, I know that you’re the perfect person to put a ring on my ring finger someday. (October 7, 2011 3:10:34 am)