My Wisps 11

My heart still beats for you,
my soul still yearns for you,
my ears and eyes, oh how they wish
would never come to forget
a single detail of you.
My skin misses your warmth,
the feel of your hair
on my fingertips.

I miss you, terribly.
But I can neither
bring myself
to say it,
nor ask my mouth
to even utter your name.

Things left unsaid

Remember that time you asked me why I liked you?
I never gave you an answer now didn't I?
Perhaps I would never answer that question in person... in a cafe, with a cup of coffee stained by my lips on the brim.

Why didn't I answer? 
All the more, why couldn't I?
I guess the emotions still float on the surface, and reminding myself what it was that drew me to you would sink it deeper.
(Something you have shrewdly presumed to be the case, which I hastily, too hastily, and tactlessly denied.)

Why did I like you?

Was it because of the way you started a sentence or how you ended it? 
Was it because of the way your eyes twinkle and how they become warm or the way they turn blank and hazy?
Was it because of your inquisitive or nosy prodding?
Was it because of your sincerity or your sarcasm?
Was it because of your humor or unabashed bluntness?
Was it because of your wisdom or idiocy?
Was it because of your affection or insensitive teasing and mocking?
Was it because of your passion or your apparent lack thereof and utter laziness?
Was it because you cared or sometimes questionably do?
Was it because of your expressiveness or passivity?
Was it because of your openness or because you were cloaked in mystery?
Was it because of your honesty or lack of reserve?

In all these, what could I have possibly adored and admired in you?

I didn't want to tell you for you usually make fun of me when I tell you how I feel, despite you telling me it is all right to feel and that I shouldn't be ashamed of it. Hypocrite.
Still, I would want you to know what it was that sparked the attraction.

Just not in person.

I just can't say it matter-of-factly when each word spoken intimately entwines with the love I have felt for you then.
I would completely lose myself and drown, knowing full well you would never save me. 

Graduation Special

"Do you miss them?" 

A year has passed since the day they graduated and parted ways. Them venturing new heights, finding new interests, meeting other people -- a journey of finding oneself. She was not very good at voicing out what she felt. The act of doing so was difficult for her but it seems to be the best way of relieving herself of the gnawing ache. "I miss them... I really do." It felt good saying it.

"Do you miss... him?"

And before she could stop herself, with having felt such elation, she replied, "More than I ever thought I would." 

Guidance Interviews

I was asked during my yearly guidance interview: Why do you not tell someone how you feel?

What I had in mind was: There are just some people who tell you to talk, and once you do and get the hang of it, eventually grow tired of listening and ignore you and then switch to other people who can provide them with something 'better'. I wouldn't want to find myself in that position. It's like they tell you they got a hold of you, you trust that they wouldn't let go but they eventually do because they got 'tired' and not because they can't hold on anymore. There's a difference. The latter says they can't, the former just drops you.

What I said: I just don't feel like talking. I wouldn't want to trouble them.

Bewitched

"Tell me about her."

"Why?"

"Please?"

He knew I wouldn't leave until he told me. He bowed his head in resignation and sighed. "... if you insist..."

He stood and walked to the window, his back towards me. "She was like the summer sun. Her laughter like the cool rippling pools of an oasis in the desert. Her lips were like cherries in spring. Her cheeks a rosy pink like of a newborn. And her eyes..." My breath got caught in my throat as he looked at me, memories of 'her' danced in his eyes. He was drifting away.

"Wh-Why didn't it work out?" I asked, breaking the trance.

"Such is with things that are not meant to be, I believe. But I loved her, that's all I know, and I was content with just that."

My Wisps 10

I knew it was a dream. Damn, it just had to be. That smirk on your face and that glint in your eye... it was as if my brain remembered how you were, every single detail of what I undeniably loved about you. 

I didn't want it to end at all. If dreaming meant I got to see you more than what reality permits, then let me sleep.

- Pickled Relish

My Wisps 9

My Wisps 8

Since that day you guys have never spoken a word to each other. 
Since that day you never made mention of her.
So what makes me think you still love her?
The way you looked at her when we passed her by that day on our way to the supermarket. 
And the way you whisper her name in the dead of night. 

- Pickled Relish

“One of the most amazing things that can happen is finding someone who sees everything you are and won’t let you be anything less. They see the potential of you. They see endless possibilities. And through their eyes, you start to see yourself the same way. As someone who matters. As someone who can make a difference in this world.” — Susane Colasanti

“Though I may seem at times somewhat distant from you, through the gray mist of my own moods, I am never far; my thoughts always circle around you.” — Friedrich Nietzsche

My Wisps 7

"Why hasn't the flower bloomed yet?" She asked with much curiosity only a three year-old can muster over a small flower in the middle of the field. "Why won't it?"

I leaned in, my chin lightly resting on her shoulder. I wrapped one arm around her waist, breathing her in. "It's not that it couldn't or wouldn't, sweetheart. More of, it's not yet time for it to bloom."

"Will it ever? When?"

I smiled, watching her caress the flower covered in morning dew. "We don't know, my dear. Perhaps in the spring, or in the summer. What I am sure of is He knows when. We just have to wait. At the right time it will bloom, and you will be dazzled by its beauty."

"Am I like the flower, mama?"

"Every one of us is, dear. We blossom at the right moment. At the time when God thinks it would be perfect for us to."

- Pickled Relish

“They say you don’t get over someone until you find someone or something better. As humans, we don’t deal well with emptiness. Any empty space must be filled. Immediately. The pain of emptiness is too strong. It compels the victim to fill that place. A single moment with that empty spot causes excruciating pain. That’s why we run from distraction to distraction—and from attachment to attachment.” — Yasmin Mogahed