There's a hopeless romantic in everyone of us, I suppose. There's this longing to be desired, to be loved, to be wanted. We search for happiness and wish to find that someone who will send us beaming from the inside, the one with whom we will share all our dreams and burdens, the one with whom you don't have to pretend to be anybody greater, the one you'll be entirely comfortable with.
Some of us may have felt that great love once but eventually lost it. Some may still be on the lookout for that first encounter.
Though I have been in love at least twice and got broken into pieces, I am not losing hope. Though the pain was real and the agony seemed to be unending, I am not losing hope. Though my heart has been bruised and eventually mended, the pain has subsided and the sad memories faded, it remembers what got it beating and it is not losing hope.
Remember the desire. Remember the fire in the kisses. Remember the stares that got me melting. Remember the lips that pressed on the eyelids. Remember the hands that caressed my face and brushed my hair to sleep.
Remember the sweet nothings. Remember the going-out-of-his-way-and-travelling-two-hours-to-see-me-for-ten-minutes. Remember the calls he made just to hear my voice for at least 30 seconds. Remember holding hands as he walked me to my place. Remember the trinkets he offered every meeting. Remember how he knew I was not in good shape even without saying.
Remember the significant connections. Remember the introduction to his parents. Remember the pride of introducing him to my folks. Remember the going-to-church-together. Remember the prayers we said for one another. Remember the philosophical arguments, the intellectual jokes, the nerdy conversations. Remember the mundane things, then the eyes that met on cue and brought one another giggling with laughter.
Remember the romance. Remember the dancing with no music. Remember the embrace that kept me warm through a cold night. Remember making faces in pictures together. Remember the sweet smiles he threw and the hellos he kept on saying even if I've been in front of him for hours already.
My heart is appealing:
"Remember the music of your soul. Remember the art in your form. Remember the love that you know. Remember the promise of the best He has yet to show. You were not named Astrid Ayla at random. For your love is divine. For your will is strong. For your heart is beautiful."
So this I say to myself with conviction. Stop stalling. Stop wallowing. Stop compromising. Stop settling. No more part-time lovers. No more intimacy without commitment. No more shutting out. No more pretentions. No more maltreatment. No more disrespect. No more make-shift relationships.
I will wait. And I will be patient.
I will smile. And I will be faithful.
I will pray. And I will be hopeful.
But I will not settle. Nothing less of what I deserve. Nothing less of the love I was shown. Nothing less of the happiness that made me glow. Nothing less of what I have on my own.
I am a hopeless romantic. But I will never be hopeless.
