Castle Of Hope

“I hope I won’t lose my heart in this game of gamble called love.”

She sits by the dormroom window, wondering.

Daydreaming is a luxury she cannot afford. Pending assignments and reports, daily studying already lagging behind…yet she doesn’t care.

(After all, caffeine is always there to rescue her.)

But the thought, the nagging feeling doesn’t go away.

She’s had her share of falling for people. More than experiencing the bliss and the pleasures of being in a relationship, it was insecurity and despair and admittedly, envy.

Having one’s heart broken is enough to lose faith in love. Still, people persist, even for their entire lives, either going to finally find someone or being left alone.

She’s one of them. And she won’t end up alone. It is her belief, her solace that will someday turn into reality.

What is the harm in dreaming?

Maybe being a writer by hobby does make one romantic…perhaps foolishly so. But then again, isn’t it the hope, the desire of loving and being loved by someone is what adds a certain essence to those otherwise ordinary words?

Sometimes, the mere prospect of such a future is enough.

And that is why, even with a love life that is alive one moment, dead the next, she will keep hoping. She will look forward to playing the game called love.

Even if it meant losing her heart. For eventually, love is nothing without surrender.

“I’d lose anytime. But, if I believe that I can do it, then I can do it.”

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Written for my dear friend (and once writing colleague) Terry-May, who is and shall be my first overseas friend. Happy Birthday, Terry! I sincerely hope you like this. 


With this, I embark on a month-long hiatus. Shall be back once I'm done with the Boards. Till then, ciao! 

Threads Of Fate

What is it that I share with you?

 What is it that binds us together?

 In a relation, ever so uncertain, ever so tentative?

 It’s more than love I feel; it’s more than affection I feel,

 Your pure and gentle self, hidden behind a veil is what pulls me,

 To reach that unimaginable zenith, of something that is beyond

 The realms of this constricting world, the mortal chains of time.

 With you I fly, to that place, ever so desired,

 At this point, nothing matters to me

 Than the fact that I’m with you,

 Relations wither like flowers with time,

 But this moment is infinite, is eternal,

 We are together; nothing can change it

This moment of absolute love, that remains

 Engraved in our hearts, for as long as we live…

Wistful Reminiscences

Despite everything, we’re still friends, right?

Yes. I never wanted you to go away.

She reads through the words. They are just a few among the countless words exchanged over nearly two years.

Twenty four months (no, 22 months and 21 days, she corrects herself) are inconsequential in a life that is meant to go on for decades.

But sometimes, it’s enough to change your perspective altogether. More than enough.

It is what she has presumptuously claimed to be a relation of a lifetime. Even if it didn’t last long, it was something never to be forgotten, effaced from her memory.

It doesn’t rankle her to see that so much of her effort, time and emotional investment – to the extent that she naively thought she was in love -  seems to be going awry. That treasured beautiful relationship, nearly ruined only to be salvaged again. But the spark was gone and the distance grew only further.

She was no fool; she had been acutely aware of her feelings. It was by no means attraction or even romantic.  But she had been too idealistic in believing it could be reciporcated in the same manner. Had she misread the signs? Wasn’t intimacy possible in a friendship – did it always have to have those implications?

That understanding, that mutual affection, that fondness, she had been so happy. So…fulfilled. In hindsight, she was perhaps too forthright, too expecting. Perhaps trying to define it in the first place had been the biggest mistake.

She’s had her share of anguish, of despair. It is never easy to severe ties; it is always painful. To break away from the comfort of knowing he was there for her caused her unnamed agony.

Her first heartbreak. And it had been her doing alone.

 Believer of destiny as she was, she held back from assuming it was all over. Unrequited love was one thing, friendship was another. They had resolved to put the past behind her, hadn’t they?

The future is always uncertain. She would never know. If only…

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If you are thinking this is what an approaching Valentine's does to me, well, it's not true. ^^

On the contrary, it is meant to be cathartic in nature. This is milder in comparison to this outpouring.

In any case, that is all I'm letting on. :)