Eventually the heart repairs.

Her life was beginning to make sense again, although she couldn’t say she was enjoying it. But her mind was clear, and her heart was not constantly as heavy. Only when she thought about him. But she knew that in time, she’d survive it. She had done it before and would again. Eventually the heart repairs.

— Emily Griffin


I really think there’s a reason that I love him so much. Like something is telling me not to let him go. Everytime I follow my heart… it leads me to him. I mean… what other explaination is there. Why is it that he is all I can think about? Why is it that no matter how upset I am… I see him and I can’t help but smile? Why is it that when he smiles at me… I get that feeling in my stomach? And even when he’d broken my heart, and hurt me as much as anyone could ever hurt me… when he lied to me… and I hated him… why then did I still feel those same feelings?  Answer me that, and then I’ll tell you why I let him hurt me so much.


Walk and pick things up as you go. Nothing too heavy, nothing too light. Weigh each item against your soul and if it measures up, take it with you. If it makes you weary or it loses its significance, leave it behind for someone else to find.

Keep only that which you need.


the flowers began to fall
From the grasp of the sun
In spite of its plea for chances
That they have doubted to come.
Their stems slowly unattach
In spite of the love that has grown
Now surrendered to the promises
That has long said adieu.
Their senescence willed them to wither
Amidst the thriving awakened sun
With an unconcious permission
To kiss them by its toxic rays
That always possessed to stay
However it could be done
Unmindful of the flaws that tag along
Resulting to the suffocation of a spirit.
With the death of the flowers’ beauty
Came the regret of the sun’s bounty
Damned to watch growth and death by its rays
It only yearned to caress the earth’s warmth
And by its kiss,
came the overwhelming realization
That it has the power to create a life
With the inevitable curse of witnessing death
By which it is also its doing.

my picture of you


“You might not always like me, the things I do or the way I do them. But these are my things, this is the way I do them and I am me…”

you spoke them to me on several occasions.
and on a few of those occasions,
I was hopeful that you’ll not be you
and consider how I may feel.
Each time, I did
I was heartbroken…
but You are You
and I don’t have any intention
of changing you
to what I wish could be you
we both know there will be no comfort in that…

notice to the public


The problem with romantic relationships, no matter how committed  or how pretty the partner is or how good looking the couple make, is that the attraction eventually fades.

Sad but true.

Love becomes a confusing, even vague , concept (am i still? or i fell out of it?). It’s a three-way tug of war between holding on, letting go, and giving up. Eventually, what will matter most is if the decision you’ll make will all be worth it in the end.

In the end, keeping your relationship is a conscious decision to know what is most important. You create your own definition of happiness. Nobody will ever account for it but yourself. But remember this: not everything is meant to be but everything is worth try.

I should know because I have been in several situations where I decided for my own happiness.

Here’s a nice anecdote to put this is in perspective.  Whoever the author is, I’m sorry for taking the liberty to publish it.

The sand taught me one thing:

“You can’t hold too many things, no matter what you do to make them stay. So learn to let go and choose carefully which you want to stay, because like the sand, only those which are in the center of your palm will last.”