Tag Archives: love

How I met you, my love!

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Its been 25 weeks this Tuesday, since you and me connected. You know of my connection with you more than anyone else in this world, though I thought it might be interesting to tell you how I met you the first day.

Your dad and I had just returned from our much awaited vacation in Monaco and south of France in the first week of september. I was tired and sick probably from being on such a long and exerting road trip, but your dad thought differently, he knew you before I had the chance to find out. ūüôā

Anyhow days turned to weeks and I saw you on my doctor’s screen couple of times, but you were nothing but a dot on a dark screen. I couldn’t believe some thing that non-existent was making me throw up so much, so all I felt was nausea and the need to get back to my feet.

Then came the week 12 and finally I saw you, though still so small, you were clear as a bright summer day. I watched in disbelief as you moved your arms around with the grace of a dancer and flipped like you were at it for years…

You and I, at week 18.

You and I, at week 18.

All my fears, my discomforts, my sickness washed away that day, I knew at that moment what love at first sight meant. I want you to know that I am counting each day like I have never done before,  till I hold you in my arms. I miss you every day.

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Life’s ways!

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Couple of years ago, I took the low road and succumbed to the easy way out.

We all do that, on day to day basis, don’t we? and mostly there is no harm done. However in my case, I made my situation worse and took another friend down along with me. While the experience itself was painful, shattering and stained with lots of guilty tears, It helped me shape into who I am today and that ways it ended well for me. But in the process I lost a friend and ¬†felt really bad for hurting a nice soul.

No matter how hard I tried to make the mends, it always resulted in exchange of harsh words. Some how this person was capable of bringing the worst out of me. I could lash out with insults I never knew existed and in result ended up being wounded even more. I was somehow convinced that I was the bad one and the other person was the victim here.

Till about last year, after another failed attempt at reconciliation, I took a step back and finally decided to let it all go. May be I was not the only one to be blamed and may be not every bridge can be mended again. I vowed to not make things any worse and prayed every day for the strength to carry on.

While it worked for me, it seems this dear friend of mine is still not able to let go. Every couple of months I get insults swinged at me, and unlike in the past, I am easily able to dodge. ¬†I don’t feel the need to prove a point or hurt back any more.

Just the other day I got another note, wishing for me to burn in Hell and So intense was the need of this person to hurt me hard, that the poor soul couldn’t even frame the words right. I always used to get so hurt reading the words addressed to me that no decent person deserves to hear, and today all I feel is compassion for the person, who must be so overwhelmed with feelings that couldn’t even wait to get the note straight.

Every day lived, especially the ones I feel were unnecessarily hard, seem to bring out the best in me. Every minute, I am given a choice to take it easy or work hard for all its worth and I try not to forget the fallen moments and work hard to make it count, even if, its just for a day.

Well Captured!

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http://melgallegos.wordpress.com/2013/01/19/petal-droplets/

Saturdays are generally not the days I go online, as hubby is home on weekends and ¬†I love to stay in real world for at least a day or two with him by my side. However today I couldn’t wait to sneak out of my bed to find some amazing blogs. While I read a few blogs on different topics, what I really wanted to find was some amazing pictures and after an hour and a half, I am glad to say, I did not waste my day. Here is my pick of the day, laced with beautiful shots and a story to go with each, a photography blog from¬†Philippines, I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did.

Stuck on you!

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Here is another story for Madison’s Friday Fictioneer group.

Feedback, constructive criticism, is most welcome.

My heart is restless and my limbs are stuck, stuck like a fool.

“Get out, before it gets you”

The voices in my head are getting louder and louder, but I still can’t move.

The more I struggle, more tangled I am left, with time, my life seems doomed.

There is no escape from this, I had it coming my way, falling for someone like you.

I am stuck in your lies, held down by own my anger and pain,

No matter, what I do, even after years, your thoughts are driving me insane.

I am so stuck, stuck on you!



A love story you haven’t read!

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Let’s just say he was the man about town, whom nobody liked.

Reasons, you ask?

Could be many!

He was too smart for his own good!

Too darn cute!

Oh gosh, was he rich!

Or may be… he was none  of this!

Who cared! He was just a man about town, whom nobody gave a s**t.

Then there was me.

I am ordinary, if you must know,

Just another girl in town.

But I collected puppies.

Lost, helpless, homeless puppies.

I brought them home, washed and gave a bed,

Till they grew strong enough to bite the very hands that fed.

But does it ever stop me, no sir no!

So I had to be fixated on him, for he is one of them, a homeless, loveless puppy.

And after him I go!

He feels like a glass to me, I can see him through,

With all his ugliness, lies, wicked thoughts, somewhere buried deep some goodness too.

I can read his words, before he spells them for me,

We are now closer than we ever did.

Do you think its love,

Who am I to say,

For me he is another puppy, I wish to care.

Did I mention his lies, lies that flowed like stream,

He spits them out, even when, there is no need.

I tell him, you can be honest,

remember? I can read.

but why, why doesn’t he change.

How long will I last, with these deceiving  Games?

I repeat to myself,  I can handle this,

I have seen dogs before,

But looking at his puppy eyes, with drooling teeth,

I am not so sure.

I knew he was different,

But boy, was I wrong,

He wasn’t poor weak puppy,

He was a wolf,

Wolf, too strong.

He did not bite,

didn’t touch my caring hands.

He ate me alive,

Never leaving a single bone.

 

Stoned!

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The beauty of the night matched your mysterious eyes as your voice with the divine grace!

You descended from the heavens above every year, I was told. I did not belong here and I had no faith. I was warned of your weak heart and strong ways, yet I couldn’t stay away. You led me to the abandoned creek with stone shed. The moon looked prettier that night than it ever did before, I was lost to you, without mistake. Fooled by your wicked heavenly words, I gave too much, steeping your seed with my mortal blood.

You got your heir and he became one of the GODs. What did I get, besides being stoned in your love abode?

X——————————————–x——————————————————X

This picture was taken en route to Prashara Lake, in Himachal Pardesh, India, which is an interesting and mysterious place itself. However as for the story above, It is inspired from two incidents that I have read about in the past. 

1. Story of Ahilya, who was¬†deceived into adultery,¬†by the king of heaven Indera, and was cursed to turn into a stone when was caught by her husband ‘Maharishi Gautama’.

2. It was an interesting case study of a psychological break down of a woman in Himachal Pradesh, who was suffering from the hallucinations. She experienced the process of being raped, conceiving a child, labor pain in the matter of few hours every few days.  She felt the child to grow up quickly and run away. She was studied for the cause and cure without much success, while locals believed it to be the play of a native GOD.

Himachal is considered to be the land of GODs and some of them are notorious and famous for often falling in love with the local women.

I almost missed this week’s Friday Fictioneer by few hours as¬†I was trying to locate that case study over the internet ¬†to share here with no luck, I had read it in a¬†library few years ago. Any how,¬†It would have been utter shame, to miss on an¬†opportunity¬†to write a story on my own picture. ¬†

***Constructive Criticism, as always is welcome.

Friends for season!

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First draft.

‘Agony aunt!’

” now, I wouldn’t put it like that!

I like to call it, more of, um, seasonal friends. ”

“Common, there is nothing¬†fascinating¬†about that, I just happen to attract people, um, ¬†who seem to have a lot going on!”

“Na! I do not think my life is inspired by 27 dresses! besides, I was born first.”

“Why would you care any ways??

I am not a runner-up of a ‘Extreme make over’ or a ‘vampire chick’. ”

“Chick flick, eh! ”

“I suppose that could be done, I can recall a few chick flick¬†moments¬†still.”

“Hmm, lets see, well, I knew I was no different from any other 17-year-old, except that teen years had not yet decided to show up. I wasn’t decidedly ugly or shy or studious so to say, I was just, umm a kid. “

He was a Greek God to me, so¬†gorgeous, so kind and his soft¬†chuckles used to be highlights of my day while I was his best bud. I think that’s when it all started.¬†¬†I was picked to be the side kick.

So low was my self-esteem that I was a shoulder in my own life, never daring to be the heart.

So best friend it was!

He was kind and funny, and would talk to me about every thing he felt. He had met this girl and he could never stop talking about her. Any how he was just first of many more seasonal friends to come. He was my best friend, for those few ‘summer’ months.

Then, came the next ‘fall’, and ¬†I took my first full-time job, I know, how exciting, but¬†It’s just, that it sucked!

I was too young to be friends with and too plain to be seen around.

Girls used to stop chattering when I came in the room, for they mostly talked about boys and I was a kid, still.

This is where I met the specimen number 2, I wouldn’t really call her a friend. She was too busy trying to look good and was too bothered to see me without any paint.

She got me my first lipper, but in exchange of helping her out.

I would have heard her out any ways, not that I was going to paint my lips black, no way!

We talked about her crush and some love triangle and months later, she attempted to kill her self.

Well, I was too young to dispense words of wisdom, but I knew movies and shopping could heal anything. so, I took her around the town, for next 2 months we had lots of fun, just trying to move on. Then I had to dump her butt when i found out it was all a stunt and she was back with the same guy again.

Yeh, you meet some of those too!

Third one was sort of serious like the cold of winters next year, for she was more than just my friend. I met her at my second job.¬†She was 5 years elder to me and I could never take my eyes off her.¬†Now don’t get me wrong, she was so elegant and proper, I so wanted to be like her, well, as soon as I grew up.¬†for next few months I watched her in awe, as she¬†taught¬†me stuff about make up and cloths and you know, other chick stuff. In the meantime I remember, she used to talk about her secret love. I could hear her sing about, in her soft, beautiful voice in our office women’s room.

We lost touch, when I took my first real good job and moved out-of-town. But I thought of her all the time. 

Some time passed and I met more damsels in distress, while she lingered in my heart, like a beautiful smell. I really missed her, I remember wanting her approval, I wanted her to be around to see how much I was growing up to be someone wonderful like her.

In ‘Summers’, I heard her over the phone after a long time and she told me, that she really loved me and disconnected the phone. That was one crazy night, I did not know where she lived now, what had happened to her, but I knew something was wrong.

Two days later, I found out that she was serious in a hospital. Her secret love had failed her and she was broke and alone, I knew I loved her so much the instant I saw her again. For next few months we were inseparable, we went out, ate together, and did all sort of fun things. Any one who wanted to talk to her, had to go through me first. 

“Can we talk about it a little later, I have stuff to do.” I had to stop talking, feeling the pang of tears swelling up in my eye.

Why would Karen do this to me, she can be such a B%$!^!

She had told her creative cousin about my article on female friendship and now that jack ass was pestering me on the phone to know all the details to make a short film.

To be continued….

Love, My love!

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I was told love is that cosy-comfy thing, that makes your world extra pink and fuzzy. I don’t know where I picked the notion that love was about googly eyes, cotton candies and romantic words. Love I knew, tucked you in your bed with a remote to watch a prime time TV show. Love gave unconditionally, and in turn loved you some more.

Living in those romantic chick flicks, I never learnt anything different from what I already knew, so when I finally met you, love seemed askew.

You pulled me out of warm home, to the cold and high place, you made me look down the deepest valleys, with fresh air brushing against my face. You threw me in the deepest waters, demanding that I learnt to swim, for you knew, how much I wanted to feel the rush, but never got around doing the real thing.

If I felt you did not care, for you never said a word, I always found your hand on the shelf, just above my head. You did not say sweet nothings when I did not feel so well, you nudged me, poked me, pushed me to fight it, instead. You let me fall, you let me rise, never picking me off the ground. if I ever thought you did not care, you were always there, watching me, I just had to look around.

For my love, I learnt what was the truth. Love’s not soft, loves not cuddly, it doesn’t write no songs. Love’s ferocious, love’s¬†violent, still can last so long. It’s no pink, neither fuzzy, its Red and beats the passion down the heart. Love is a commitment, needs the strength, so can’t be given a blind start.

**Only text is mine, image is thankfully borrowed from Fabio’s F-zimba¬†Photo stream..

http://www.flickr.com/photos/fzimba/3194847709/in/photostream/

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Being loved for just being cute and loyal is the privilege for Puppies and group, you and I still need to work hard.

Earning Love!

Life, huh!

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My fingers have been a little shaky lately, and I feel a pit in my stomach too deep to be dealt with, so I ponder no more.

No, I am not sick, not now I think, but I still can not shake the weakness off my soul.

Well, that’s how I feel when I get¬†nostalgic or have a¬†nausea¬†of a cause, I can not single out.

And moments ago, as I sat here, watching the last episode of Scrubs season 8, somewhere between the song, I figured, what’s wrong.

Ever since this year has started, every thing has changed, every Single thing. (Not complaining, I know it’s for good!)

I have finally found the nicest place, but it’s not HOME!!!

I can not understand most of the words I hear in the street, ¬†I no longer know the best cereal brands out there, so I don’t get to have my blueberry mornings, my¬†Skippy¬†is no longer chunky and I can’t find the same cosy¬†fragrance¬†of my fabric conditioner. So, no, it’s not the Same….

I am in way better shape than I was, just a few months ago, but still every few days I have to Push myself just to go on…

I guess that’s what you call, The Fear of Unknown….

Damn you, the fear! I am not afraid, so I will go on, just a moment more….