| AN EXTRA DOLLAR OFF EVERYTHING! |
[Friday
June 5th, 2009 at
1:57pm] |
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Leave a comment with your item of interest and your email address and we'll take it from there!
Strictly NO NEGOTIATIONS OR TRADES.
ALL THE ITEMS ARE IN GREAT CONDITION AND THE PRICES ARE JUSTIFIED.
All prices are inclusive of postage - an extra $2 applies for meetups.
NO MORE PICTURES PLEASE.
ALL THE CLOTHES ARE IN PERFECT CONDITION,
OR IN THE VERY LEAST, NEAR PERFECT.
I WILL NOT MODEL THEM.
NOW AN EXTRA DOLLAR OFF FOR EVERYTHING!
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[Sunday
May 24th, 2009 at
10:50am] |
one of my summer projects, other than learning how to cook (!!!) and my crazy-ass internship is a little store that i've been thinking of setting up for a while. currently, we're only dealing with the sale of vintage inspired necklaces but we're hoping to expand it soon! it's called ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif?v=92.1) thepurplemagpie so drop by, tell me what you think and maybe make a purchase or two? :)
love, nise
xoxo
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| final 22! |
[Tuesday
March 3rd, 2009 at
12:20pm] |
"I proudly present the finalised 22 players for the NTU league:" 1.Zeenath Binte Jaleel 2.Jacquelyn Lee See Won 3.Cara Ashley Kennedy 4.Cassie Lim Shiqian 5.Kathryn Lee Hui Ting 6.Martina Maria Strasser 7.Sally Lim Wen Min 8.Wan Yuan Ting Sarah 9.Lai Weiqi Vicki 10.Erene Ong Yiling 11.Rynette Joyce Tan Ming Li 12.Carissa Kang Pei Shan 13.Tan Hwee Ying 14.Rebekah Lau Wan Ting 15.Claudia Wong Siying 16.Paranjothy Vanessa Anne 17.Shaddick Edwina Hui May 18.Lee Mei Xian (Marilyn) 19.Lee Xin Yi 20. Elvia Goh Sin Tze 21.Esther Lim Shu Hui 22.Khairunnisa Azman
thats my naaaaameeee :))
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[Friday
December 26th, 2008 at
2:49am] |
first and foremost, merry christmas everyone! :) (even though technically in singapore it would be a tad late)
it's been a tad crazy lately, with the boy and the mad semester and the tutoring and the soccer trainings but i haven't abandoned my need for words yet! i am a relatively happy camper, with my new leg muscles and my tight butt (from all the running) and my tan and my better-honed soccer skillz and silly little things like that. :) in even happier news, i have a whole treasure of christmas presents on the way from connersville, indiana, just for me, including the glorious 35mm camera back for my diana f+ (which i have yet to take for a real test drive) and my promise ring - how circa 1980's i know, but i've never enjoyed the cheesiness of (relatively) new love as i am now. i'm happy, very very happy, but i think i already mentioned that. :)
in other news, i am attempting phase 2 of my american adventure that is scheduled for next summer/fall/winter - applications. i am gunning for one, or both, of two things - 1) an exchange semester (as previously mentioned) and 2) an internship with an NGO that is working for a cause i have always believed in. the exchange semester application won't occur till mid-january/early-february, though d and i have figured out which colleges we should apply for together. ohio state might no longer be on the list, particularly because my gpa sucks eggs, but i suppose i can still try. i've already had to start planning for parte uno de tres of my internship application though, which is a private 5 min video submission. it's going to take a couple of days to shoot and a couple more days but i'm super excited :) i'll let you guys know how that turns out.
well, i suppose before i cross into the rambling-uncontrollably-and-not-making-sense threshold, :) merry christmas again everyone!
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"And on no soul does God bear more burden that it can stand to bear. It gets every good that it earns, and it suffers every ill that it earns. (Pray:) "Our Lord! Condemn us not if we forget or fall into error; our Lord! Lay not on us a burden Like that which Thou did lay on those before us; Our Lord! Lay not on us a burden greater than we have strength to bear. Blot out our sins, and grant us forgiveness. Have mercy on us. Thou art our Protector; help us stand against those who go against faith."
2:286; Al-Baqarah, Al-Quran
Ya Allah, how befitting it might be that the day during which Christian faith is strengthened, i continue to reinstate mine. i beg You, give up not on me - i pray that You still grant me the strength, the patience, the courage to carry on, so that i might be able to lend them to others who might need them, others who might need me. i thank You, for the lightness You have granted, the lightness i had not felt for a while, that had made me lose the faith i shouldn't have. Ya Allah, keep me safe, keep my family safe, keep Andrew safe, my friends, both Muslim and Non-Muslim, safe; grant all the ones that i love the good things they deserve, and i pray, keep the ill things at bay, particularly this holiday season. Thank You again for all Your blessings on me.
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| all things come to an end |
[Thursday
November 13th, 2008 at
1:32pm] |
i still have messages from july, through till now, every one intact in my inbox; every fight, every tear, every laugh, every word of encouragement. for an extended period of time, i started believing again. but how can i believe, when no such belief lies in me, when small little things like relationship statuses on a random networking site matter more than the actuality of being together. he says it's because other people have been asking, concerned, but why should it matter when my heart only loves one. he accuses me of not wanting it as badly as he does, which explains why my parents have warmed up to the idea of my being with him, why my best friends has spoken more than just a hello to him, why i'm looking at every viable option to be there next summer, to extend my stay.
but i'm not extending my stay here anymore. i feel unwelcome and unable to love the way i want to. i have had enough, my heart has had enough.
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[Wednesday
October 15th, 2008 at
2:29pm] |
the sky is darkening as we keep practising our shots, lining them up one by one, stepping back before going in for the kill. we navigate in the half-light, partly on faith, partly on growing instinct, waiting to see if we have beat the player in the goalmouth. its easy to tell, even in the dusk, because a goal makes a happy whoosh sound into the back of the net, while a miss makes a sad whistling sound as it sails past the posts, fading out till it hits the back fence with a quiet, unsatisfactory thud - sometimes, the misses even make an angry, fuck-i-almost-had-it! noise as they thump the upright, rattling the entire goalframe violently.
i take a deep breath and smell the cool evening air as it mingles with the grass that is still a little damp from an early afternoon shower. i look up, and there is the sky, decorated with a light sprinkling of stars and the moon, in all its full-faced glory. it is almost too dark to see now, so we make our slow trod back to the sidelines to have a drink, to take off our boots and socks and jerseys and bibs for the day. i can hear the rustle of my cleats against the field, the sound of the crickets in the undergrowth, the laughter of the girls in front of me, the incessant happy banter we indulge in and i find myself wondering why i've never played this game before more seriously than i have now, why i had denied myself this little pleasure that makes me feel more alive than i have felt in a long while.
and then it hits me that this is no longer about love - it might never had been about love at all. no, this is about sustenence now.
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| beautiful disaster |
[Monday
October 13th, 2008 at
12:08am] |
this love still doesnt feel like it belongs to me, even though it already does. it is still an out of body experience, an extra limb, an additional eye, a sixth toe, and just as easily as i float out of myself to revel it in, i easily crash back into its harsh, cold reality.
he is not here, he is not a warm body next to me; he is not a pair of warm lips i can kiss, or arms that can hold me when i cry too hard, or a heart that i can hear beating when i lay my head against the chest that protects it. he is merely a voice on the line, a face in a little window on my screen, from the other side of the world, so much, yet too little at the same time.
yet, he remains, my exquisite little extreme; intensity and tenderness, weakness and strength, fear and bravery, all at once, and for fractions of a second every other day, everything fits.
but then it flits away, back into the secret spaces where my dread resides, and my heart mourns again, for the loss of courage to fight for this love i can now never bear to live without.
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[Thursday
October 2nd, 2008 at
7:46am] |
there is something different in the air every aidilfitri morning - some sense of renewed hope, of faith restored. i always forget how i love waking up to a cool, quiet morning to the takbir; i love the bittersweetness of the call that celebrates victory, and yet still mourns for something lost. i love the smells, the glorious wafting smells, of ketupat boiled to perfection, of decadent sambal goreng, of beautiful rendang. i love the prospect of all the new things; clothes, shoes, purse, jewelry, makeup, the works, and of course, the little payout that comes my way, because having extra money is always very good.
the best part of aidilfitri, however, is always the warmth that i get with family - my aunts, uncles and cousins are an amazing bunch i wish everyone could meet. i love the immense noise we can generate, the kind that can be heard from the parking lot, even though an aunt's house is at the 12th; i love the insane amount of gossip, of teasing, of laughter - i even love the subsequent crying when we're all asking for forgiveness for whatever we've done wrong to each other over the past year. the food is always bountiful, decadent, and oh-so-good, the company amazing.
selamat aidilfitri to every one of you; if there's ever been anything i've said here or in person that might have offended you or made you upset or made you think i was a complete bitch, i apologize - i'd even arrange all the fingers on my hand if it would make you grant me that. enjoy it wherever you are.
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[Sunday
September 14th, 2008 at
9:17pm] |
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dear sarah palin,
you are a turd.
i just wanted to let you know, having been rooting for hilary clinton prior to obama's win as the democratic candidate, i was excited at the prospect of a woman vice-president - yes, in a way, i was kinda sorta rooting for you, despite the fact that you are a republican. i honestly thought, hell yeah, its about time they put a woman right up there; yes, you were supposed to be the answer to my tiny little feminist movement. but i suppose that's the mistake that john mccain wanted people like me to make to stretch the demographics, whose interests might fit under the umbrella of stuck republican policies that have not altered since george bush came into power, 8 years ago - which kinda sorta makes it a tad absurd, considering some of your republican counterparts have accused my religion of not changing with the times.
i'll be honest, sarah, i don't think you were chosen for your impeccable leadership skillz, or the fact that you could represent the feminine side of politics, you definitely were not chosen because you were a feminist too, because even though you're a "proud memder" of feminists for life, you happen to be on the wrong side of feminist issues, and i just find it downright laughable - granted, even hilary wasn't doing that great a job, but at least she had an idea of what feminist was.
as far as i'm concerned, feminism means standing up for human rights; it means to stand up for equality and the freedoms and liberties of people and you, my friend, are disgustingly right wing, anti-choice and from my knowledge, you possess no record of representing women’s interests either. you have no federal experience, with less than 2 years experience as the governor of alaska (which apparently you sorta fucked up when you abused your power to fire your former brother-in-law, but thats subject to investigation). to be honest, you just happen to be a conservative republican man with boobs and a vajayjay who won't argue - that is why mccain chose you.
some of your policies, as are most republican policies, are contradictory, even strange in your context; others, simply appalling and archaic. it's strange that you support abstinence-only sex education (wow, that worked well with bristol), yet you believe in contraceptives - which is probably why you believe in abortion only if it means certain death for the mother, yet not for rape or incest instances because hey, sick men who force themselves on girls and women will always wear a condom. you support big oil - you even support drilling in alaska, which only reiterates the fact that you don't give two shits about the harm it will cause alaska - which only reiterates the fact that you have no concern whatsoever about the environment. you support aerial game hunting of bears and wolves, which further supports that you don't care about polar bears and beluga whales, and while andrew laughed at me for being so extremely flustered about the fact that you don't seem to take into consideration the animals that live in and around alaska, it just tells me the sort of person you just might be. if you can't even be nice to a polar bear, then you can't be that decent a human being. and that thing about rehabilitating homosexuals? homosexuality is not a disease; it is not an illness in any way or form, as far as i understand. to be honest, sarah, if i were gay and i happen to be your friend and i knew you were a big homophobe, we won't be friends anymore, sorry. and the whole thing about disallowing gay marriages in order to preserve family structure? let's solve the one in two marriages divorce rates in all heterosexual marriages first, then we can talk about the supposed detrimental effects of gay marriages on society alright? and oh, just out of curiousity, while we're at it, let's have a census to tell us how many of those marriages were a result of either spouse finally coming out of the closet after spending years having to live a lie because of the social norms you so badly want to keep unchanged.
and we haven't talked about the best part of your latest speech yet - i like how you said the war in iraq was "God's mission." god's mission to do what? get rid of the oppressor i.e. saddam hussein? well, last time i checked you guys killed him good. or maybe you meant, end poverty in the region... uhm, okay. how about starting in your own backyard first before forcefully entering someone else's? andrew thinks you just meant to say you wanted to kill muslims, which might not be too far from the truth, considering your policies are so extremely christian. teacher-led prayer sessions in public schools? sorry, i thought you were all about the freedom of religion. wouldn't such activities be imposing to students who are not christian at all - hell i think it'd be imposing to students who are not very christian at all too. i'm sorry, but i heard that public schools were all about being secular.
so you see sarah, in less words than i have typed thus far, i'm not a big fan. i hope america doesn't get it wrong this time, not in the sense that i think obama is the best man for the job, but in the sense that i hope they don't pick between the bigger of the two evils. but if by any stroke of bad luck you just might land yourself that job in office, i'm holding every polar bear death on your head, i swear.
-much love, nise
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[Sunday
August 24th, 2008 at
11:04pm] |
but you must always know how long to stay and when to go.
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this love is unraveling quickly, with my own fingers pulling at the stray pieces of string, and it makes me more sure than ever that perhaps, i'm just one of those people who aren't destined for happiness. then again, perhaps i was, and perhaps it was just the course of history that altered it to be such that i would never be able to be back at equilibrium, even if i died trying.
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terrified, the princess ran from the furies of pain and loss, away from the people who had inflicted them upon her, towards the dark forest that hid her safest place, her tower within sight as she dodged brances and bramble bushes, stumbling into puddles of mud, tearing her dress on thorn bushes, her mind willing her legs to take her as fast as they could, no matter the cost.
her heart pounded in her ears as she ascended the stairs of her tower once again, her climb back up to the top far longer than she had ever remembered it to be. as she flew up the stairs, she ran her fingers along the moss-covered walls, feeling their strength despite the green age that had crept upon them. the closer the princess got to the top, the narrower the stairwell became, darkening gradually, until the princess was left with no choice but to grope in the darkness for the bolt of the giant door that held her private sanctuary.
quietly, the princess cried as she settled herself once again in the lumpy bed in the corner of that large, lonely room, surrounded only by her empty books and her pens and her words and her fear. she wept, for the longest time, in her torn, mud-covered dress for her shadow knight who had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination that so desperately clung on to a hope for something real, for the page she couldnt give herself to completely and for their one red, now blue-flamed love, for her tired heart that had hurt so much it refused to beat, for all her losses and for all that she could still stand to lose, until the darkness fell.
as the cold, silent, night wind blew, the princess wrapped around herself tighter, until she was only a shell, crying herself to sleep.
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[Wednesday
August 20th, 2008 at
10:47pm] |
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to be honest, i've lost a lot of passion to do a lot of things; singing, photography and writing included, which explains the lack of words lately.
but sitting on the sidelines yesterday, hearing the thump and the whoosh of the ball as it hit the back of the net, smelling the freshly cut grass, looking up to see the vast sky that matched the wide open field made me feel alive again and reminded me of the best parts of playing football. the stirring's a little different from the kind i get when ryan and i go on stage to do the things we do best (not that making a whole room stop to stare and listen for a little bit isn't a good kind of stirring) - i suppose that stirring, coupled with the intensity at which my heart starts to pound just makes it more intrinsic; playing music soothes me but having a ball at my feet and running with it just makes me feel almost invincible because i swear i can almost feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. we are an independent entity; there is no school, no stress, no family, no friends, no andrew, no tutor kids, no pain - just me and my ball. and for two hours of my life every week, i'm alright.
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[Friday
August 8th, 2008 at
10:10pm] |
the wounds i've tried so desperately to heal over are bleeding open once again, making my veins throb incessantly for reprieve that can only be administered by one - i'm still longing for answers, for a chance to scream in his face, to possibly make him hurt the way i have been but he's been gone far too long for that. perhaps the answer had always been in the static silence, in the distance, in his ease in letting me go.
there is life, and love, to live for here though, and in this darkness the former had left me in, i have signal fire.
he reads to me everyday, a confession from his heart to mine, written earnestly in pencil in an unassuming notebook while he waits on me, in more ways than one - and i absolutely love it, despite them constantly wrenching my heart in a million different directions. his words bear as much pain as it does hope. his sturdy resolve disintegrating, but only by a fraction, its only testimony the gradual softening of his voice, recovered from with ease with just a simple clearing of his throat - he's right, he's better at hiding the hurt than i ever will be. still, he makes me dream of tall grass under midwestern skies, swings on a warm summer night, thunder and rain outside his window while we lay in his bed, long rides in his car with my feet on the dashboard; couch nights, beef manhattans, foot rubs, silly pictures.
my only regret lies here, in my fearful heart which longs to beat its tired wings a little faster, a little harder for the boy who's loved me for arguably much longer than i have ever loved myself. i wish it would soar a little higher, instead of staying so close to the ground, but the last assault has conditioned it far too much to a "flight" response instead of a "fight" response, this despite the fact that i had been the one in the first place to defend this love so fiercely.
he calls me brave; but what is bravery if i can hardly bring myself to jump back into the waters again, knowing full well that this time, there truly will be someone to catch me instead of letting me drown?
i suppose the jury is out on that one.
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[Tuesday
August 5th, 2008 at
4:55pm] |
in the far corner of her room in their old house, the little girl, all of four years old, sat quietly, biting her bottom lip, making sure she was careful not to colour outside the lines - she had to make this perfect and had taken a long time trying to pick out the right yellow to colour big bird in; she really wanted him to like it when he got her coloured picture in the mail. pressing her crayon hard into the paper, the colour was bright and even; it made her grip the crayon tighter, and made her almost forget the shouting and crying outside her door.
she had only just finished colouring his fluffy head when she heard someone turning the knob on her door. mother walked towards her with tears rolling down her cheeks, whispering, "we have to go, honey, right now. we don't have time to pack. we're going to grandma's alright?"
she felt her heart sink, that little girl. in the back of her four-year old mind, she knew something wasn't right. the bright yellow was stark against the white and started to swim before her eyes when she began to tear.
"does papa know?" she had asked quietly. mother simply shook her head; "he went for a walk. i don't want to be here when he comes home."
"can i at least pack my crayons and send this to big bird?" she finally said, holding up her half coloured page, not feeling much better when mother gave her a sad smile, promising to find her an envelope and a stamp on the way.
"why did papa get so angry, mama? doesn't he love you anymore?" the little girl asked as her mother helped her put on her favourite shoes. her mothers reply was only a sad smile, and made the little girl wish she hadn't even asked.
they had barely made it halfway down the street to the bus-stop when her father caught up with them. grabbing her by the shoulders, father had spun the little girl's mother around and had shaken her forcefully, demanding to know what the fuck she was doing. the battle continued, bloody, a shouting match in the middle of the street, a noisy pantomime for all to see.
the little girl felt other's people's eyes on her, even as she clung onto her mother's hand tight, squeezing her eyes shut, willing the bad dream to go away, but it never did.
seventeen years on, the not-so-little girl discovered, it never will.
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| little victories |
[Sunday
August 3rd, 2008 at
6:17pm] |
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the last week handed us more than our fair share of speed bumps, we're still slipping and sliding all the over the place, falling and tripping all over ourselves, but his hand is firm around mine - he is as steadfast and as wavering as ever, his quiet strength and confidence keeping us on track. we're still making good time despite the roadbloacks; our bloody battles are balanced out with peace negotiations, with a great after-party filled with random things, playful banter and laughter.
we're turning out to be better than good together, and i've often found myself wondering how i got so lucky; he stays on voice call hours after i've fallen asleep, just so he can wake me up and be the first thing i hear every morning, makes me laugh, believes in me, and listens to my silly little stories. best of all, he goes out of his way to cut me some roses from his mother's garden and send me photos of them sitting in a vase on his porch railing as a peace offering after a silly little fight that was mostly my fault, which makes him the first boy ever to send me flowers, real or otherwise. 
so for the boy i know is reading this, i love you.
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[Wednesday
July 30th, 2008 at
2:44pm] |
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she prefers calling out for me from the kitchen or sending one of my younger siblings to fetch me when she needs me to help her do something. but she knocked on my door today, standing in the corridor in her prayer shroud, telling me she needed to talk.
i hadn't seen that look on her face for a while, that disappointment, and i think it took quite a lot from me to hold back my tears when she told me she'd found out i had drank. i had been meaning to tell her for a while, en route to alcohol-abstinence (#5 on the list of things to accomplish by the end of this year), but i never knew how - i now have tattle-tale cousins and a concerned uncle to thank for helping me do that.
without sounding too sacrilegious or blasphemous, the fact that drinking is a sin in islam was long gone from my mind when i took the first couple of sips - it already was when i made the decision to, i suppose, but that look on my mother's face was more than enough to make me feel like i should be burning in hell for the rest of eternity.
she says she's forgiven me, and from all the things i've learnt in religious class, God will too, but how do i?
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[Monday
July 28th, 2008 at
1:22am] |
what was it that made this human love so much more desirable to me than the love of my own kind? was it because it was exclusive and capricious? the souls offered love and acceptance to all. did i crave a greater challenge? this love was tricky; it had no hard-and-fast rules - it might be given for free, as with jamie, or earned through time and hard work, as with ian, or completely and heartbreakingly unattainable, as with jared. or was it simply better somehow? because these humans could hate with so much fury, was the other end of the spectrum that they could love with more heart and zeal and fire? i didn't know why i had yearned after it so desperately. all i knew was that, now that i had it, it was worth every ounce of risk and agony it had cost. it was better than i'd imagined.
it was everything.
- the host; stephenie meyer
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[Friday
July 25th, 2008 at
2:26pm] |
sometimes pain becomes such a huge part of your life that you expect it to always be there, because you can't remember a time in your life when it wasn't. but then one day, you feel something else - something that feels wrong, only because it's so unfamiliar. and in that moment you realize, you're happy.
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sadness has always been my constant, and this lightness is new. i'm still not sure how to put it in words - the little bounce that has introduced itself into my walk, the laugh that escapes so easily from my lips, the smile that hurts my cheeks in such a good way; this return to hope from such deep despair, like a reward, almost, for having spent so long alone. we still have bad days, days where not much seems right, where either one of us feels unsettled for some strange reason, but we're getting better at disarming the battles, and moving past them. either way, i revel in them too; every other day that it doesn't go the way it should is another we got through, together.
i find a whole new way to fall in love with him everyday - his voice is the soundtrack of my summer, and i memorize his face a little more everytime i see him, mentally running my finger along every feature, those warm eyes, that nicely-defined jawline, his beautiful lips. his laugh is still my favourite thing to love about him, although that grin is quickly gaining ground. i've heard the rain in indiana, the thunder rumbling outside his window, seen pictures of his grandfather, his mother, his father, his best friends, his dog, his car, his mage on WoW, the second-place medal he won at a statewide science quiz where he scored 12 out of 15 points for his team, his goofy glasses. he's turning out to be my best friend, has always been my confidante, and even talks to my sister and tells her how pretty she is when she feels upset.
the only downside of this is that it doesn't bode too well with part of my heart, in which the ache to be with him grows deeper everytime; but in time, that ache can only give way to the need to do the things i must so that i might get to where i need to be - with him.
i think this is it - i really am finally happy.
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[Thursday
July 24th, 2008 at
6:56am] |
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in so many millenia, humans never did figure love out. how much is physical, how much in the mind? how much accident and how much fate? why did perfect matches crumble and impossible couples thrive? i don't know the answers better than they ever did. love simply is where it is. the host; stephenie meyer
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[Sunday
July 20th, 2008 at
9:41pm] |
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there is a certain silence that fills my head when i hear his voice on the other line; i live for the moments, for the little pockets of time i can steal with him. listening to his laugh leaves me content, and even though we spend hours with silences in between, i don't really care; simply hearing him clicking his keys while he goes into full geek mode and kicks ass in a pvp battle on WoW is more than enough. he never fails to tell me how pretty i am, and i don't think i'd ever stop telling him how alive he makes me feel.
periodically, those silences get broken, and there is a tirade of angry words. there is no trust then - we no longer fight on the same side as he defends his heart in a bid to save himself almost as fiercely as i fight to save this; he watches over the edge, his hand only half-extended as he looks down at me while i struggle to hold on to the edge, hanging on for dear life even as he seems to push me away, my fingertips white from trying to grip so tight.
remorse follows these crazy little episodes fairly quickly, and he wonders if he's run out of rope; but there is too much love in me for this quiet boy who always makes me feel beautiful and i tell him that he might probably never. and we're alright for a while. he makes me promise that i wont leave him, and though i'd hoped that my sticking through everything is a testament to that, i reassure him i wont. i turn the question back to him, to which he answers, "no, i can't promise that", trying to convince me it's honesty; that he wouldn't make a promise he can't keep...
tell me again, what am i fighting for here?
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[Monday
July 14th, 2008 at
10:56pm] |
regret comes in all shapes and sizes. some are small, like when we do a bad thing for a good reason. some are bigger, like when we let down a friend. some of us escape the pangs of regret by making the right choice. some of us have little time for regret because we're looking forward to the future. sometimes we have to fight to come to terms with the past. and sometimes we bury our regret by promising to change our ways. but our biggest regrets are not for the things we did, but for the things we didn't do.
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i can hear the doubt that seems to always be at the tip of his tongue, swirling through his words, lacing each one to another, as we sit for hours in our own little corners on either side of the planet - together but completely seperate. every sentence he completes seems to end with an eroteme; questioning, skeptical, unsure... suspicious, and in every moment that he sits there in disbelief, i return to the moments i have come to regret, particularly the ones in which have only proven to be a waste of days i could have spent reveling in what should have been mine to begin with.
but this is just; i am getting what i deserve for deceiving my own heart - perhaps this is why my tongue gets tied when i attempt to make him understand that it is his mind that i love so much, on top of his steadfastness and his clarity, his beautiful laugh, his reservations about himself, the way he quietly reassures me everything will fall in place.
i wish i could articulate as accurately, the tenderness where i've not felt tenderness before, the gentle melting of the winter that had settled on my heart, the deep sigh that resonates through it with the promise of love in every moment i give it away a little more to him.
perhaps then, he could give his to me too.
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_ignoretherain's journal
