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Wednesday, 27 July 2005
You're My Best Kaibigan
Mood:  hungry
Now Playing: poem
Topic: Literature
You Were My Bestfriend
by AnnaBegins

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I've grown up since I last talked you…
Millions of tiny things have happened since we're not friends -
I've thought about you on a few occasions
I've also thought about the bitter end.

It seems like it all happened so fast
Blood sisters torn away at the seam -
You found different friends and I stayed behind
I've never understood what all of this means.

We were both so different back then
But nothing could tear our friendship apart -
We swore so many times that we'd be friends forever
And I guess we will be…In my heart.

I've had my share of heartbreaks without your comfort
No bestfriend to be there -
But it's all a part of growing up…
We used to have so much to share.

Remember the times we laughed so much?
Or the times that we both cried? -
It seems I shed a thousand tears when you left…
Because with you I had nothing to hide.

We had so many good times
When we were little our friendship was so strong -
I used to hide away our friendship memories because they hurt,
But I've put them back where they belong.

So many times I counted on you
We both had so many little girl tears -
We always stuck together then…
But friendship changes in the older years.

I keep thinking of how it should have been
How it won't ever be again -
You left a dent in my heart…
Because you were my bestfriend.

For Sarah...I miss you. Even though I know I can pick up the phone and call you...I know that you're not the same anymore...I Love you -You'll always be my bestfriend...

Posted by ptayjohn at 8:23 AM
Best Friend
Mood:  a-ok
Now Playing: Bata ata ang may gawa neto, e
Topic: Literature
Have you ever loved someone so much that it just kills you to think about them not loving you back or even worse hating you? I know just how that feels. A couple years back me and a group of friends (including my life-long Love Keith) all decieded to go skating.We were having a blast until Travis made a rude comment to Angie and she just went off on him and started yelling. Now, Being the "fix-it" person that I am I was trying to talk to Travis and Keith just kept yelling at him so go skate, so I simply said "Keith, shut up! I'm trying to talk to Travis" Well Keith skated off and gave me the maddest look I've ever seen. I knew that I was way out of line to I decieded to go and apologize. I sat down next to him, "Keith I'm really sorry I was way..." Before I could finish he was yelling at me "Get out of my face! I don't care if you are sorry just leave me alone...I don't care about you!!" I could feel the tears filling my eyes, I didn't know what to do, I've never seen him so mad before. In fact, he called one of his friends and told him to come and get him that he didn't want to be there anymore. He was suppose to go home with Travis, so of course Travis was mad too...and this was all my fault. I knew it, So I went up to him and told him..."Keith, you don't have to leave, I will!" So I left, I took my skates off, and started to walk out the door as Angie skates up to me and asks where I was going. To be honest I didn't know, it was almost 11 o'clock. I just walked out of there with no where to go. There was a local gas station about a half-mile away so I walked there. I cried the whole time. I just sit outside on a bench and cried,I cried because I was hurt, because I knew I had messed everything up and I knew that this time it couldn't be fixed, I had lost that friendship with Keith and if any Love that was there was gone. I had to chance at all. He hated me. After about 30 mins of crying I seen someone walking my way. It was Travis, to this day I still have no idea how he knew I was here, he walked up to me and hugged me so tight, he was my best friend. "I'm sorry" he said in a meek quiet voice. "Why? you didn't do anything this time I'm the one who has messed it all up."We just sat there. It being in the middle of december it was cold and I just kept crying. He tried to get me to call someone to come and get me but I didn't want to leave. Then we seen someone else walking, could it be? It was...Keith! but only I didn't want to talk to him. I knew the second I started talking to him I would start crying, and yeah I did I couldn't help it. This was the guy that I had loved for so long, no one else ever came into my mind, we had shared so much. He had told me how much he cared about me before but does he still? All these thoughts were just running through my head but suddenly stopped when he spoke. "I'm sorry Kara, I didn't mean to yell at you the way I did."I didn't know what to say and what I said next changed the outlook on him forever. "Keith, it's not the fact that you yelled but it's the fact that you said you didn't care, after all of this you don't care? how could you say such a thing? I've cared about you for so long, and Keith I'm in Love with you!" He just looked at me, I don't know what was going through his head but he just said "Kara, I Love you too." I knew it was a lie I could just feel it...or was it? "But you see Keith, I've always been in Love with you and after tonight, I've realized that I just can't Love you anymore.You have hurt me but yet I'm glad, I knew it wasn't meant to be." I lightly kissed him on the cheek and walked away. I haven't spoke to him since. He was my first love, but now years later I have fallen for someone new. My love. about losing my first Love and walking away forever.

>>>taken from the internet

Posted by ptayjohn at 8:21 AM
Fools Rush In
Mood:  flirty
Now Playing: Ang ganda neto... medyo tanga nga lang sya
Topic: Literature
Fools Rush In
by danlearn

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Allow me to introduce myself. I'm a 20-year-old college student, hold a steady job, in a positive financial position, clean and (for the most part) sober, a responsible citizen, and all around nice guy. Being a nice guy inevitably means I finish last, and I'd like to tell you a Story about that.

Several weeks ago, I showed up for my "English" class (names being changed to protect the guilty). Today we were slated to spend two hours of class in the library, conducting research for an upcoming project. Needless to say, I had no intention of getting any real work done; friendly conversation and magazines were on my agenda.

I started the class by glancing around for a suitable place to sit. Recognizing a friend, "Nikki", I sat next to her, along with two other girls, "Renee" and "Laura". I knew the other two women by name and in passing only, but they were friendly enough not to tell me to take a hike.

Eventually Nikki had to leave. That left Renee, Laura, and myself. Both women, I might add, are very attractive. Clearly the ball was in my court.

I had been in many classes the previous year with Renee. Thoughts of something between us had routinely crossed my mind, but I managed to talk myself out of it time and again. It wasn't long before I noticed a large diamond ring on her third finger. Perhaps she was already taken, and if not, this sent a clear message that she expected high end gifts and tokens of affection, and you won't find many of those at the bottom of a Cracker Jack box. Those same thoughts still cross my mind, although more for reflection than action.

Which brings me to Laura. I had met her earlier in the term, in this same class, for a short group assignment. While trying to get to know her better, I was thwarted by one of those touchy-feely older females who happened to know my railroading relatives. I never paid much more attention to Laura after that.

Until that fateful day. Eventually Renee left, which left only Laura and myself. The perfect romantic spot? Hardly. In fact, I was more concerned with the latest issue of Fortune than whom I was sitting with (why a starving college kid would read a millionaires magazine is beyond me).

Of course I tried to spark up conversation, being one of those people than can't shut up. Laura happily obliged me. Then, in an instant, my priorities changed. She looked me straight in the eyes: her baby blues met mine. She let a warm smile head my way.

Suddenly the guy that epitomized the song "Heart of Stone" began to rethink his game plan. I was heading more for "Fools Rush In".

This was something that had never happened before. We clicked. It was like the feeling of playing your favourite song; driving 100 miles per hour; getting a fat paycheck; watching your hockey team win the Stanley Cup. All rolled into one, and still somehow better.

I should ask her out. No, I shouldn't, she won't go for me. She probably already has a boyfriend. But I've managed to talk myself out of this one hundred times before, is taking the risk once going to kill me? Perhaps. But the payoff is tempting.

Asking a girl out is no easy task. I then broke the problem down into more manageable tasks. My only problem is actually asking her out; the rest I can handle. So I think I'll skip that step.

How, exactly, can I ask a girl out, without actually asking her out? I had this same problem when I was in Grade 12. I wanted to ask a girl to the prom, but there was no right place, right time, or right thing to say. So I avoided that part. I sent flowers to her house, with a short note only implying the asking out part.

The long and short of it is that I was rejected. I bought the flowers on a Wednesday, and the shop asked if it was all right to send them the next day, since they were finished delivering for the day. The prom was still 5 months away, so a day didn't matter. It turns out that she asked a guy to the prom the next day, and arrived home to find flowers from a still-dateless nice guy. I finished last again.

My success rate with this tactic was nothing to brag about, but it was the only option. I nervously wrote a short note with my name and number, and slipped it into Laura's binder when she got up. Shortly after that she left, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

From that minute forward, every ring of the phone caused my heart to skip a beat. Someone from work; my brother's friends; several relatives. But no welcoming voice from a lovely young female.

I waited that weekend. I waited some more the next week. I played the waiting game till I was ready to quit, but never did. The next ring, I said, would be what 20 years of patience had reaped. That patience may well wait another 20 years, along with the next ring.

My next English class would be interesting. The onus had been placed on her to approach me, so there was no need to be nervous. But this was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen: I should be having heart failure.

The class population that day was sparse. Among the missing was Laura. I dismissed this as an early day out, a sudden illness, or a day off. Things will be different in the next class.

That next class came; that next class went. So did many others after it. I was pursuing a terminally ill person, or an international fugitive. My heart rate slowed, my tension dropped.

The last day of class brought about a final test, and although tests are nothing to look forward to, I eagerly anticipated this one. My time had come: fate had led me this far, and now it was time to perform.

As I sat back, waiting for my final quiz and final chance, two females appeared: the blue eyes I fell for, with the beautiful face that held them in the perfect way, attached to the shapely body of Laura, and the professor with an armload of tests. What elation!

I completed my test in near record time, which surprised me. My focus and attention should've been elsewhere, but I put my eyes to the paper and starting writing.

After finishing, I waited in the hall. Several times the door opened to reveal a false alarm. Then the opening that was every bit as real as I wanted it to be. She slowly walked out, gently closing the door behind her. Turning, she glanced upwards, then turned again and started down the hall - in the exact opposite direction. The heart of stone cracked in half, then crumbled to dust.

To this day I have yet to feel what I felt for those brief but exhilarating weeks. I literally changed my tune again, this time realizing the distinct possibility that "We'll Meet Again".

A Story of how I met the most beautiful girl in the world. Let me know what you think!

Posted by ptayjohn at 8:20 AM
Abuse
Mood:  crushed out
Now Playing: please post a comment. see at the bottom
Topic: Literature
Abuse
by elvira

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There are all kinds of abuse in this world we live in. Nations abuse other
nations wreaking havoc on the people and their homelands. Big corporations abuse their power by causing smaller, family owned businesses to fold prematurely. The justice system abuses its authority by giving criminals more rights than God fearing people who would never commit a crime. On and on I could go, but there's no need to expand any further on the abuses of Giants. It's the abuse of the children I want to talk about. You see, I consider them far more important than the giants of this world.
Our future is in their hands and it's up to us to make sure they become adults with loving hearts and forgiving souls. This Story is about one of these children who is very familiar with different kinds of abuse. I am that child.
CHAPTER 1
I was about four the first time I was abused sexually. My maternal grandfather was spending the night with us and due to a shortage of beds, my mother told him to sleep with me. Something awoke me during the night and I glanced over at my grandfather hoping for reassurance that all was okay, that my fears were unfounded. However, what I saw was my grandfather with a full erection, lying naked beside me. I had no idea what he was doing but something told me I should be afraid. I started to jump up
out of bed to run to my mother. Granddaddy had other ideas. He pulled me down on top of him and told me to keep quiet or else. He had never spoken to me like that before and it frightened me. I lay there quietly, my little body trembling in fear as he fondled me. His hand was going up and down very fast on his erection and suddenly he squeezed me tighter and moaned. In my innocence, I thought he had hurt himself and began to cry. "Shut up and keep still," he ordered.
I watched in awe as cleaned himself, still unaware of what had occurred. "If you say anything about this to anyone," he whispered in my ear, "I'll say you are lying and you'll be in trouble." My parents had always taught me that lying was a great sin and it was very bad to lie. So I promised to keep my mouth shut.
I had just turned ten when my father gleefully told my brother and me that we would be going to Knoxville, Tennessee for our vacation. My grandfather had moved there a year earlier with his new wife. My parents and my brother were very excited about the trip we would be taking. I was terrified. I wanted to just stay right there at home in Memphis, away from my grandfather. But remembering his threat from long ago I kept silent. Oh, if only I had spoken up then, the events that followed may never have happened. Maybe, but sometimes I wonder. Grandaddy and his wife met us at the door and embraced each of us in turn, just like a normal family would. For a second I wondered if my memories of the past had been a sad illusion. But the pounding of my heart told me otherwise. I sat quietly while everyone else shared events in their lives since the last time they were all together. Their laughter and happiness made me doubt my memories once again. How could this kind and loving man I called Grandaddy have done such a thing to me? I must have been imaging it. I began to join in the conversation then, telling of my school projects and my friends. Soon I was laughing happily right along with my family. I had convinced myself that Grandaddy just could not have done those horrible things. Finally, exhausted and anxious to rest up from our trip, Daddy asked about our sleeping arrangements. "I prepared the guest room for you and Alice," my new Grandmother said. "And I have sleeping bags for the kids." "I want to put my sleeping bag in the same room with mom and dad," I said. A twinge of fear had returned and I was suddenly afraid to be too far away from my parents. "Don't be ridiculous," Grandaddy said. "Children do not share bedrooms with their parents. You and James will stay out here by the fireplace where it's warm." I placed my sleeping bag as close to my brother as possible and after lying awake for hours, I finally drifted off to sleep. I was awakened by feeling myself being dragged across the floor in my sleeping bag! A gasp of fear escaped my lips and Grandaddy quickly placed his heavy hand over my mouth and ordered me to be quiet. I made no other sounds as he inserted his finger into my vagina and began kissing me in the mouth, his tongue stabbing deep inside my throat. I was trembling in fear like none I had ever known before. This only excited Grandaddy more and he removed his finger from my vagina and began stroking himself just as he had done so long ago. I stared at his penis in awe. I could not imagine what had made it so big and purple! Suddenly, juices jumped out of his penis and onto my vagina. What had caused him to throw up like that? Then suddenly, my innocence was lost forever as my grandfather explained that he had needs and I was helping him to fill these needs. He took the time to explain in great detail what had just happened. My childhood was over at the young age of ten!

Posted by ptayjohn at 8:18 AM
A Letter I'll Never Send
Mood:  blue
Now Playing: Please post your comment for this blog. click the link at the bottom of the page
Topic: Literature
A letter I'll never send
by EroticNights
This is not a good bye, but that's just what it is. I don't want to feel that we're parting, or have parted, or somehow I'll never see you again. I hate saying goodbye, usually I'm too stubborn to do so. And in this case, I still cannot bring myself to believe it, or admit it. So, in spite of what this may seem, I want you to know this is not a parting. About two months ago, I started a 36 page letter I was meaning to email you. I am 22 pages into it and now realize that I can never send it. In the letter I tell you everything I can never say behind this wall of silence. We are two different people, almost strangers. It would be distasteful to send you a letter regarding our yesterdays. It would never find you as I hope, it is a passionate letter which would be foreign to your heart as I am not your lover. My hope of yesterday stands in direct conflict with today's reality. The reason I am not going to send it is a simple one. I know your reality. I know how your keys sound as they loosely hit the table when you toss them without care after a long day of work. I know about our son's drawings on the refrigerator that are fastened with a bright magnetic letter. I know about the unwashed dishes that are in the sink. I know about the toys and blocks scattered around the house. I know your reality. I know my ideas and memories have no place in it. I dare not trouble the calm waters of your life with my fierce spirit. Remember, I have not stopped loving you. I will be writing about you for years to come. The desire that powers my pen for you, also has very real action. Meaning, behind these words are real force. Last time I saw you, at my mother's house, I wanted to reach out for you, and almost did. And I don't, for a second, doubt that you didn't see that. You looked at me again for the first time, and I you. Behind your composure I saw that you still wondered about me. Two years away had rid you of some of the ill feeling you harbored. And a man crying for his son can soften even the hardest heart. Especially when it's your son, especially when you lived though the departure. Leaving you looking at the fork in the road, wondering which direction to take. I know when you went to bed that night, you thought about me. And I spent that night, scratched, searching my heart for some desperate way to speak to you outside the language of English. Wishing, you could put your hand on my chest and soak the energy which is my source of power and weakness. What you would have found would have been pure, and all yours. Life moves on, and forces us into new realities. Like the way your comfortable life would be total shock to mine. Like the way he says I Love you is nothing like way I do. Think about what you see in my writings, think about what you see in his. He spends time with numbers, I spend time with my heart. I digress, these are words better saved for page 23, not a letter of goodbye, not when this is suppose to be a letter of emotional indifference. (Oh well, I never been any good at emotional indifference). The reason I'm writing this cause I know you'll read it. You see, this is the last time I'm going to post writings about you here at LS. I'm going to stop because I have no business talking about you to an open public. I don't want you to get mad at me for airing our dirty laundry for all to read. You see, if I had it my way, I would post all of Fact Based (the 36 page letter). However that is too much information. Though it is my life, you still have your right to privacy, and I cannot breach that. I'll give you some idea as to what is contained: Fact Based is everything. Things I never told you. Poems. Stories. Ideas. A letter to my 20 year old son. Dreams. Rants. Things that never happen. Things I can't forget. Fact Based is a eulogy to my son and to his mother, as I'll never speak to them again. It is a line in the sand, a historic document telling how I felt about both of you, before time put too much distance between and made us into strangers. I don't want to walk down a path that you're not walking, but I have no other choice. I don't want to say goodbye, but there is little else. I've spent almost 3 weeks trying to figure out how to say goodbye to you, both publicly and privately. I still have 13 pages to think about how to say it in a private aspect, but it seems this is the time I have to say it in a public manner. I fumbled with ideas all day, but none seem fitting for the gravity of this situation. So I decide upon something else, I wasn't going to say goodbye. Instead of saying goodbye, I have another plan. Here's what I'm going to do. Nothing. I'm not putting you away. Yes, I'm not going to post about either of you anymore, but I have no intention to stop writing about you. I understand your life has taken you elsewhere, but that will not stop me from what I do best. Obsess. I'm going to kick, scream and shout. I'm going to write passionate Love poems about you to the best of my ability, as protest of your absence. I'm going to keep being Erotic Nights. I am going to lament over you for the next several years. And at the end of it, I will look back over the time and say "Now I am done, my sacrifice for you is over". That time will be a scar on my arm which will serve as evidence and reminder that this was the only way left for me to Love you. I want to leave a piece of my heart missing for you. I want to lament for you across many years. I want there to be a piece of my body and soul that is lost. So that way, no other woman can touch it. So that way, there is a part of me that is solely yours. Your absence will be a ledge in my heart. And when women see it, they will look out across it and wonder what was once in it's place. Forbidden for them to ever know all aspects of how I love. And that is how I choose to lose you, on my terms. And in many years from now, I'll wake up, and be ready to begin my life without you. Last time we met, remember what you saw when you looked in my eyes? That desire contained is what I want you to see while you're walking away.
Adventures Of Idiot Jim {2}by WhiteEagle Print Tell a Friend Email Author - Vote!He made his way from the podium and out the back of the auditorium, met by some who were intending on this being his last speech ever. But their plan fell short of it's expectations, this time rage and hate like he had never felt emerged and he leveled three guys in the back of the school, the rest just sort of backed away. He spent the next three months just to himself occasionally going out to find hatred at every turn. He vowed when he got away from this town he would never return. He joined the Marines and became a fine tuned human machine, he was trained as a combat medic. He saw action just three weeks in Vietnam, he would do sometimes 36 hours nonstop of patching up guys to be sent to hospitals, and no matter how many he saw die and the gruesome ways they were killed he could not get use to it. His commander said once you become use to it's sight you are just as dead as they only worse you are alive but for a soul that is frozen in the hell of nightmares and darkness for the rest of your existence. One night he watched as children, young girls of thirteen or so were raped repeatedly then shot in the head by his own men. He was dragged and beaten and tied to a pole, and still he yelled profanities and vowed they would pay for this. Later that night he was hooded and carried out into the muddy delta and beaten unconscious He was left for dead. He awoke to find light brightly shining in his face, lying on a pile of blankets in a mud hut, he thought for a moment he had been captured by the enemy. But then wondered just who the enemy was here. Eventually he found that a nearby village of people had brought him in and cleaned him up, but it would be sometime before he would be well enough to travel. He got to know some of the customs and gave aid where he could to the villagers, he hobbled around limping on a broken leg, that the local elder had set with two straight bamboo poles. He seemed to like the native lore as he learned to speak some of their language, and go about his way as he healed slowly. One of the younger girls all of fifteen took a liking to him and was always following him around. He tried the best to explain that he was not ready for marriage, he had still plans for college and things when he returned home. As he became stronger, he started making his plans for his journey out of the jungle, he was still determined to make all those pay for their crimes. He was led to the last location of his camp, and from there he made his way through bush and mud with the rations he was given. He continually realized someone was following him, so he hid out under some mud and grass and waited. Expecting an ambush it was the young girl, she said I Love You, mister...I go with you to America..you see I take good care of you. "Go home little one, I cannot care for you, I cannot even care for myself right now" "Will you come back for me soldier '? "I will see, now please go back to your village". He continued on and found a patch of soldiers camped about thirty clicks from where he originally was. They were Army, but guaranteed to help him get to a hospital where they could find his unit. Tom Atterberry 1-10-04
My first love...my first heartbreak
by IBChadsgrl

>>> taken from somewhere in the internet

Posted by ptayjohn at 8:17 AM
Tuesday, 26 July 2005
I was In Love with a Best Friend of MinE
Mood:  a-ok
Now Playing: Ang saya saya!
Topic: Literature
I’ve Been Loving Someone Whom I Should Not!

It was a nice and crowded street where I was sitting up on. I was with my best friend Pogi along that street talking about someone whom I was felt in love with – his cousin who just lived behind their house. Well, as every other torpe guys who can’t say nothin’ at all to their love ones, I always wait for her in that street just to see her face one day. But as I should, I had to forget her cause I know that she had no feelings about me, anyway.
I am just a short (about 5”2 in heights) guy, dark, not so ugly and not so handsome. So, tell how should a female who wanna be a cute guy to be her partner gets in love with a man like me? I thought I made the right decision of forgetting her. I did! But, the habit of being in my best friend’s house went so always. That is, every before sunset, I was always there. We always talk everything that comes unto our coconut brains – good or bad, green or blue or brown thoughts, at least, it makes us happy!
One day, we were talking about girls when I saw someone coming towards us. I noticed that it was the girl who made me embarrassed one night in peryahan. That time, I recalled how she made me shut up when she had talked about being my “leather-faced” (kapal) for her. Well, how should somebody treats an enemy anyway? As expected, I should not talk to her. But, to my surprise, she does know my name. She even addressed me with my nick name. I just nodded in everything she told me as if I was ignoring her presence. She is beautiful (before I forgot to say). Her eyes in complete black color like the jewels in its brilliance. Her nose that is so cute shaped on her face that’s so lovely. That was just my second expression, okay? Hmm. My words were counted while I tried to have answers to her talk with me. The last word that I remember to say to her was “secret”. Then she had to go ‘cause it’s getting dark. After she had left, I told to my best friend what kind of impression had been developed in me towards her. Yeah, he told me that she is that beautiful. Then I ask him why he didn’t court her. Then he replied with “I have feelings for her”. Look how stupid am I asking that question to him! But honestly speaking, I was badly thrown to a crush for the first time I saw her.
As usual, after class, I was on the roadside again having a conversation with my best friend. Then there comes again that girl. Well, my eyes show the happiness that only the persons with naughty thinking can understand them. The time goes by and we became close to each other. From talk to chatter boxing to concerns to best of friends, I discovered new about her that I couldn’t say I word to describe how wonderful she was. Now, the three of us are best of friends. She taught me everything. She taught how to smile, how to become happy, how to laugh to the max, how to have a concern for a girl... except how to love her not.
It is true that love comes in its mysterious way. Nobody can command it nor can set it up. My day cannot be completed when I don’t see her. I wanted her by my side all along. Of course, she knows nothin’. I remember the time when I first hug her in front of the sari-sari store because I just wanna do that. I want hug her just like that with no green mind. I just wanted her to feel how I missed her. I don’t know if she got that. The time went by and my heart was tired of hiding the feelings that it had. My heart years had passed and I still can’t tell her what I feel for her… that I love her very much, much than a best friend! I am hurt whenever she tells us stories about guys that she falls in love with. It came even worse when best friend Pogi started to court her. What I have only done was this: shut up. Even though I am jealous, I can do nothing. I began to feel insecurity for myself and I sometimes I don’t wanna be with her because I am afraid that she might tell me someday that she and Pogi are on. She even told me that she has also feelings towards Pogi. She just doesn’t know how she had pounded my heart that moment. But, chances are, no relationships evolved. Then by the time gets older, a friend of mine gets close with her, too. Then again she had crush on him again. As usual, I’d hidden my feelings again.
Once I laid a wake on the branch of a tree one quiet afternoon. I began thinking about her… how she played an important role in my life. How she had taught me everything that I never knew before. I wonder if she didn’t feel that I am in love with her. I am getting confused whenever she replies ‘luv u too, best’ in text messages. But I kept tellin’ myself that it was just a love she had for a best friend and nothin’ else. I never so stupid before when it comes to a girl. But when I met her… everything has just changed from above to below. I wanted to tell her how much I love her so. But time wouldn’t cooperate. Well, maybe everything has reasons to seek. And she just loves me as her best friend and nothin’ beyond. I recalled the times how my burdens are relieved when I am with her – not a talk coming from her lips or a tap made by her cute hands – but by her presence…her being ready to be there. How I smiled at full when I was with her. And most of all, at the same time, how I felt sorrow whenever I am with her. I started to figure the things out. How could that wonderful friend of mine be my girl if she ain’t got any feelings to me? After a while, I remembered how she became a friend of mine.
Know what? I just have decided to be as her best friend forever. Why? Because she is the best person I’ve ever had in my entire whole life! And I do not want to loose her! So, why be her suitor and loose her if I could be her friend and be with her forever? Besides, any lover aims happiness for his/her love one, right? I see her happy now with her boyfriend. And I wish more for them. Even though it tears me apart inside, I am also so happy to see her in that state of joyfulness… with someone else. She is not the girl whom I intended to be with, I know that. That is why I didn’t engage to such decision that would be a mistake forever. Being her best friend, I could show her that I love her so much in other way – friendship. I want her to know that I will always be right here for her for ups and downs, rainy or sun shine, sad or not. She has always a best friend to lean on every time she needs a friend to knock in the head and slap in the shoulder. I know that this is NO ORDINARY LOVE (by mymp) but I have to let it go. I would have to give up everything that I have just for her sake. I’ll not think of me but of her. It is not my fault to fell in love with her in the first place. With this, I would have to carve this promise on the rock so that it would remain in tact. I promise to be her best friend forever… unless she breaks it. With this, I dedicate the song ‘Always’ for her.
With this line, I became a writer. Let me know what you think. Send me a message. Am I qualified for to be an author?

>>>ptjohn@walla.com


Posted by ptjohnpogi at 12:13 PM

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