I Found "That" Love and I Let it Go. Here's Why:
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This might be the most cliche and overrated story you will
ever hear, but trust me when I say this:
"It happened."
It did.
Bear with me.
It's the things you never even see coming. There you are,
perfectly content as you watch others dive into the leisured blur of tales that
life has to offer. What I
don't know, what I don't have, won't hurt me, you
thought. I don't need the
theatricals, you said. Damn.
I have always been a romantic ------- but not the sappy kind. I watch romantic
movies for the hell of it, not for dear life. For me, the adage "Opposites attract",
is a hoax. You have to be fundamentally similar, yet ironically complementary
for the relationship to work. I don't believe in love at first sight.
When I met him,
it wasn't.
Wasn't even attraction at first sight either.
I didn't feel the butterflies. Time didn't move in reverse.
It is what it is.
In fact, I had a bad impression of him.
Yes, he might be cute but there was something in his smile,
or the way he looks at women that unnerved me. He must think he's so charming, I thought.
But come second semester of my first year in college. We
were in a barangay for a cleanup. As members of the Reserve Officers' Training Corps (ROTC), it was kind of a civic
duty.
Some were playing with the children, others, tending the
garden. The immaculate few, sat around. I? My brain tried to be a martyr and I
bathed in the scorching heat, sweeping the dust and soil off the court. Never
again. It was a hopeless cause ------- the wind mercilessly blowing it all back
even when I splashed water all over it.
Then he came. With a pail and dipper, he helped me out.
We talked and it caught me off - guard. You know how
strangers would usually chat on the latest DiCaprio movie, or most probably,
the weather? We didn't. We talked about our families, our childhoods, and the
little things in between.
I doubt he even remembers.
Still,
I didn't feel the butterflies. Time didn't move in reverse.
No gut - wrenching music played in the background.
It was natural,
so much even, I doubt I would ever meet anyone that way again.
I didn't even catch his name, but at the back of my mind, I
knew it wasn't going to be the last time I’d see him.
It wasn't.
Now take a moment and open your mind a bit for this part.
You can judge me later. This right here, could be the most outrageous thing
you'll ever hear:
I'm not superstitious. I never even made a wish while
throwing a freakin' coin in a freakin' well. But once upon a time, I tried the
unthinkable.
One semester later, my batch mates and I were on our way to
a field trip. There's this bridge where, as the legend goes, as you pass by it,
you should hold your breath and make a wish. Then, it will come true.
So there I was on the van, the wind on my face, and in a
moment of temporary psychosis, uttered stupidity. It was stupid because it was
out of the spur of the moment, and it came out of the top of my head. Out of
nowhere. It came as a prayer. Lord, I
said. You know I waited. I
never treated it as a joke, let alone a game. So, if You're going to let me
meet someone, let it be now. Now.
You can laugh now.
But be at the edge of your seat for what I'm about to say
next.
On that same night, we were hanging by the beach. The dark waters meeting the
ebony canvas of a million lights. It was as picturesque as it could get, but it
gets better ------- down comes a
shooting star.
The first one I ever saw.
Out of reflex, of course, I breathed a wish. That same
wish.
I didn't think much of it.
Until I saw him the
very next day.
I was quite in a dilemma. We were supposed to have our
costume as terrorists for The Biology Crazy Day due the day after tomorrow, and
I had none. I was mindlessly walking along the path walk, when he called my name. There he was right in front of me,
and the first thing I noticed were his pants.
Cargo pants! My brain
screamed relief.
He casually raised his hand for a high five, and initiated
small talk but all I could think of was, Yeah,
I don't know you but ------- can I borrow those pants?
"What?" He asked.
I actually said the last part out loud.
"Yeah, can I borrow those pants?" I still
remember the look of disbelief on his face. Considering I'm a girl and all, but
he had no choice. Chivalry took its toll. We took each other's numbers, strictly
for contact purposes, which was funny because it was obvious that I didn't even
know which name to save it into.
I think you know what happens next.
Beginner's luck? I thought so too. But the timing was so
mind - blowing, that I think this is why I was blinded for such a long time. I
thought it was supposed to be fate.
Now I realize: Maybe there is
no such thing. Maybe all there is are uncanny coincidences. The problem is, we
are responsible for their intent. We give the meaning.
Maybe you were just bored in that crowded room when your
eyes met. Maybe it was just really a train that you missed, nothing more. Maybe
you would've met anyone even without that wish. Maybe, that star could have
very easily come crashing down on you.
God bless the human race.
He doesn't know this story. He doesn't need too.
Maybe, he didn't deserve to.
I think you know what happens next.
Boy meets girl. Boy contacts girl every single day. Boy
asks girl out to dinner. Girl flutters.
He wasn't even her type.
Anime? Gamer? Different faith? NO, please.
Girl hears things about boy, but she doesn't
consider them. She even disregards her first impression of him, thinking that
he really was a "genuinely" nice guy ------ what with him being very
family oriented (that's what she liked most about him) and a sakristan and all. Turns out, he was a wolf in
sheep's clothing.
Still, she was attracted to him. She couldn't even get the
hang of it, but she learned to accept this boy's
little quirks, and actually wanted to know the man inside.
Within two
weeks, boy "confesses" to girl that he likes her ------- through text. He admits that it looks
cowardly and all ------ good thing he knew.
I was offended, to say the least. From that day on, I let my guard up.
Then one day he disappeared. Poof, for three weeks.
What would you have done? How would you have felt?
Then a friend of mine uttered the four most shocking words
in human history: "He has
a girlfriend."
Who would've seen that coming?
All that time, he already had a girlfriend.
He says it was, as he would call it, a "dead
relationship". He doesn't even know when they actually started.
Go figure.
I was at my most vulnerable that time, much so that I
passed through The Five Stages
of Grief in under ten
seconds. My mind was point blank.
"Let's go by the beach and drink to that." My
friend offered.
I blurted a yes.
That was the lowest point of my life.
You might argue that I'm being too melodramatic -------
it's just a couple of beers and rhum after all. But for me it was a big deal,
the biggest deal at that, because first and
foremost, I AM A CHRISTIAN. I grew up at church, picked out to teach Sunday
School when I was only eleven years old. While my peers were learning Moses'
latest exploits, I was out teaching VBS with the elders. Our pastor once
commended me during a service when one of the guys was putting the moves
on me, saying that, "She's the most mature teenager I've ever
met. She's got a mind of her own, if she doesn't wanna, she's never
gonna."
In those exact words.
I wish I had it recorded then played at blasting volume
that night, because there I was, chugging on Emperador and throwing peanuts on my face.
I wasn't wasted or anything. Although I wished I was, so
that that one time experience would be worth my
soul. I was sane and conscientious, when my friend took my phone and dialed his number.
Being the exaggerated person that she is, she grandly
proclaimed that I was wailing
around and demanded to talk to him.
Such finesse.
So I asked him. He confirmed it.
"So let me get this straight ------- was I a
rebound?" It was rhetorical.
"No, you're not!" He said. "You're not
because I didn't even pursue -------"
This guy should get a Nobel Prize or something.
He couldn't explain it. He couldn't explain how he felt or
why he did what he did. All it was, as I deduced, was out of impulse.
That call went on for nearly an hour. The last twenty
minutes, were static when neither of us could hang up the phone.
I think this
was the game changer.
Somewhere lodged in his brain formed the thought that no
matter what he does, or won't
do; I will always be there, longing on the hanger.
That's his biggest mistake.
If you take pride on how a girl actually lowered her
standards just to level with you, then I'm sorry but you're an -------.
Twisted, right?
Then, I learned that less
than a week after that call, he broke up with his girlfriend.
Don't cheer just yet.
He considered your talk! He finally came to his senses!
You would think.
If this was a movie, this part right here would have been
the long - awaited resolution to one hell of a story. Well, it's not.
Yeah, he came back: Texting me his apologies and blabbing
about how guilty he is.
You know what amazed me? How he had the audacity to try and settle it through the
wonder that is the cellular phone. How hard is it to actually suck in your
pride? How hard is it to actually go to my place and set things right? How hard
is it to utter that single word in the closest possible time? How
hard is it to be a decent human being?
His intentions were now clearer than ever.
I was maiming him, of course. Don't expect me to welcome
him with open arms.
It was a test.
Our communication was foggy.
It was like being suspended in time: You, being stranded in
that train of thought. You, lost in the definitions of what is, or what there is not. It was like
being sucked in a whirlpool: Drowning, then in a little moment of liberation,
bob your head out ------- only to be sucked in again.
It was infuriating.
It was like a cross between wanting to round - slap him in
the face, then objecting not to, because in a way, you still care.
It was the sickest paradox of all time.
Then, come December.
You know how when you're attracted, or let's say, "crushing"
on someone, you create these images that would render even the most romantic
flick (I want to say The
Notebook?), null and void?
You and him, on a spontaneous dinner. You and him,
attending church together. You and him, by the beach, singing a duet over a
guitar. You and him, connecting the patterns of the galaxies. You, surprising
him on his birthday. Him, surprising you after that play.
You and him, fighting over which movie to watch. You and
him, just lying around and pigging it out. You and him, finally running off
that weight. You, introducing him to your closest friends. Him, introducing you
to his family.
You'd feel all giddy. Your hands, clammy. Your heartbeat,
racing. Your breathing, non - existent.
It's conventional. I'd think of these with my usual
"crushes", but it never felt quite right. It's too far- fetched. Just
some good mental exercise. I can't really see them in that picture.
Now for the first time, it felt real. When I see him, I don't feel
indifferent or anxious. All there is is an
overwhelming urge to go on and talk to him. When I see him, I don't hesitate to
smile. When I see him, it was like bumping into a confidant.
Sadly, only for a little while.
Ever since, I never watched a film that starred Ryan
Gosling. Never felt the need to do so.
Well, I should have.
December 17, 2015
Our university was going to have its annual Lantern Parade:
With floats, a "concert", fireworks, and all.
Fireworks.
It used to be my favourite thing in the world.
It would be no surprise that that night was one of my mental exercises.
Since it all began, I always see myself looking forward to it: How the
electrified splashes of colour would paint the speckled canvas of the gods. The both of us, side by side, a
witness to such masterpiece.
It would be the defining moment, I thought.
Indeed, it was.
Coincidentally, we saw each other that night.
We were both wearing stripes. Just the trend.
My close friend who accompanied me asked for her to be
excused, and as she was leaving, I could just see how happy she was for me.
See? It all worked out for the best. Her
eyes sparkled.
I hoped it was, but the second he walked toward us, I knew: That's not it.
We tread through small talk at first. I asked him how he
was, and he told me about this new
girl he has been seeing. He
told me all about their time together: How they spent hours by the seawall
talking about random things. How he went to her place and surprised her with a
cake. How he liked that
he was the one putting effort into the relationship.
"She's the reason I stayed, you know." He grandly
declared. "I wanted to tell her how I feel, tonight."
I'm telling you, he should win a Nobel Prize.
"So when did this new found love blossom,
exactly?" I asked.
"Two weeks ago." He bluntly said.
Around the time I was maiming him.
A round of applause, please. A standing ovation, if you
will.
Somehow our conversation got redirected.
He apologized. What am I to do?
"I'm sorry because of what I said, you expected too
much." He confessed, with defensive undertones all over it. I was
disappointed.
I never thought that Sorry could be such a painful word.
Always thought it was beautiful.
"Okay. So, it all comes down to this -----" Never
have I imagined that I would ever need to say this. Ever. "In the end, I shouldn't
expect anything from you, is that it?"
Imagine a girl saying that to a guy. Now imagine that without the case of her looking
desperate.
If you could.
Well, I wasn't. In fact, I didn't care. Say what you want,
think what you want to, but I didn't care.
I just wanted it to be over with.
Still he had no choice but to answer.
"Yes, you shouldn't."
Then, the fireworks went on.
There we were, side by side, a witness to such masterpiece.
Him, thinking about how much he wanted her to be there with him.
I, thinking about how I should have just went home the
other day instead.
There goes your definition.
We shook hands. The first time he ever held my hand was
when we said goodbye. It was calloused and rough, yet I remember thinking how
my delicate fingers felt safe in them.
Safe.
That's what I would've been if I never even met him in the
first place. If only I turned the curb and he wasn't wearing those pants that
day.
That would have been good.
Then, he just walked away. He never looked back.
He didn't need to.
For me, that was it: It was nice knowing you,
never. Good game, well played. Sayonara.
Until he contacted me again the very next day.
"I told her." He said. "She just wants to be friends."
Out of all the people ----- I can't even comprehend it.
That's what bros are for, dude. Tell them instead, for the love of -------
"I actually cried in front of her."
Wow.
I tried to keep it cool. No big deal.
"So are you going to wait for her?" I asked.
"I don't know if I should. But I'm hoping." He confessed. "I'm hoping."
I never replied after that.
Then, I lost my phone on New Year's Eve.
I didn't regret it at all. For me, it was a good thing. It
made things easier.
Two months later, he contacted my new number, saying that he got it from a
mutual friend. He said he tried contacting me over the break, but I wasn't even
replying ------- now he knew.
Okay.
There are means and ways, dude. Facebook. He was even
chatting up a course mate of mine last September.
Yeah, I knew. He must have thought I was so naive.
Anyway, that's none of my business.
He said all sorts of things: He admitted to having feelings
for me at that time but was too overwhelmed at its gravity and how fast the
pace was. He
doesn't know how he feels and what he should do about them.
He was confused. Confused. That was his favourite
defense. He wanted us to start over, take it slow, and be close friends.
He said that to our mutual friend. Not to my face.
Still, I was open for it.
But I was not as vulnerable as before, and honestly, I
thought he was actually sincere that time. I still do.
You can slap me if you want.
He made plans.
Dinner.
Pizza, supposedly a post - celebration for a win in our
university's sports festival.
Bowling, supposedly for him to teach me the game he was
into.
I was happy.
I hoped more than anything that, this time, it will finally
be a genuine effort to mend bridges.
One Sunday night however, I was about to be on my way for
that pizza when he cancelled. They had to make a laboratory report or
something.
I fully understood. First and foremost, we are college students and if anything, academic
work should be the top priority.
But I chose not to venture on a reply. I didn't want to
make a big deal out of it.
Still, I had doubts because he didn't elaborate on an
explanation after that.
Most especially when he ghosted out on me for almost two
weeks.
Then, TWO DAYS before Valentine's Day, he popped in, as if
all was fair and square.
I ignored him.
What was he trying to pull here? I knew then that he
probably contacted ALL his viable dates for the 14th.
I didn't want to get in on that.
You might argue that, "Well you should have
replied, maybe this time, you both would have gone out on an actual date.'
For the whole duration of this story, NOT ONCE HAVE WE EVER
been out even for just a single dinner. Now, when I come to think of it, I am
thankful that it never happened.
Date? Hell, I don't think so.
Let alone just hang around and actually talk.
Talk: About our likes and dislikes, our ambitions, fears, firsts,
favourites, or funny whatnots.
The only time when we actually
talked and stood face to face was only
when we had that presumed goodbye
last December. It was like ending
something that hasn't even started yet.
Isn't it romantic?
"And when that happens, if only this one dinner would
be pushed through, then maybe he'll finally know that -----"
I don't think so.
He had a lot of time, dude, in a lot of
circumstances. Plans were made, but only to that single mention. Never did he
make an attempt to actually make it happen.
Now, I am certain that he makes these plans with everyone.
He was casting out all his worms at sea, waiting around on
whoever takes the bait.
One fish, two fish, three fish -------
And I ain't some fish.
We became lenient. I didn't expect him to text me every day
after that. I mean, it's not even his responsibility nor is he entitled to do
so, but if he wanted to,
HE WOULD'VE.
So out of the blue, I decided to do a little
"test".
March 04, 2016
I posted this on Facebook:
LITERALLY four minutes later, he posted something along the lines of, "Fvck this people," and went on to post pictures of him and his close girl friends, being sweet and all. I deduced it was a play to gauge my reaction. Then, an hour later, he posted the lyrics of a song that goes like this -----
"Paalam sa ating huling sayaw
May dulo pala ang langit
Kaya't sabay tayong bibitaw,
Sa ating huling sayaw"
I got it.
No clarifications, redefinitions, personal talk or
whatever.
That was it.
Okay.
You might say that it doesn't mean anything; it's just a
freakin' post on Facebook anyway.
I completely agree with you ------ it SHOULDN'T mean
anything, but apparently, the keyboard types in what the heart speaks nowadays.
I hate it.
Seven months.
Seven months that lasted ------- although, I even had no
idea what that was.
I don't even know why I stayed there.
All I know is that: We were walking along a very fragile
wire for way too long. I got tired.
At least, I wouldn't have to lie this time.
For months, acquaintances would ask me every morning why my
eyes were sore. I'd blame it on my consecutive exams or the latest The Walking
Dead episode. They’d buy it.
My closest friends, however, knew better.
I will be eternally grateful to this someone who snuck in
our dormitory’s lobby window at 2AM just to console me. I had no idea that a
person could have a heart like that.
As hard as it was for me to admit, but that phase was the
hardest point in my life. What with my
mother’s operation, my parents’ alleged separation, academic stresses and all.
Then this.
But you know what, I couldn’t complain. I could’ve been
worse. I could have been dying of cancer, or you know, me being a US citizen
and Trump won the Elections.
I thought that his timing was impeccable. In this most
disheartening situation, a shoulder to lean on, and someone who will always
have your back. I thought he would listen and remind me of all the things that
are still beautiful.
I was reminded, but not by him.
I was reminded by the people who actually care: People who
saw my value and treated me as an actual human being.
With all honesty, I could say that I try my best to deal
with others in the most fair and compassionate way. I would never do anything
to intentionally hurt or defame the other. It’s two of the few things that I
really take pride in.
And I deserve to be treated like that.
If there’s one silver lining in all this, it’s that I
learned to differentiate genuine people from those who are not.
There just so much
history, you might say. It will always be out there ------ the what
ifs, and could have beens; especially now that you just left it all hanging. How
will you get through?
I asked myself that very question.
I used to have this outrageous theory: “He broke up with
his girl friend after we talked; he made a move on this “December Girl” when I
was maiming him, and he cavorted off with this new girl when I “ended” it.
Somehow, I was always involved.
Subconsciously, you
had a great impact on him then! You would think. If that’s the case, then he
should eat his “subconscious” for breakfast.
There will always be this lingering tension between us. I
don’t know his side of the story, so this is just mine: I think the wretched
thread that still connects the two of us is his
guilt.
I can see it when we pass by the hallways. Every. Single.
Freakin’. Time.
I can’t blame him. I’m sure that you, the person who is
just reading this, might even want him to choke on his own teeth.
I won’t lie. I thought about it. I wanted someone to scream and condemn his ears out.
But I know that I shouldn’t.
His smile makes me think that there are still feelings
there. I know there is none. To prove just that: Not two weeks after we “ended”
it, there he goes, off with another girl.
If he did like me, he wouldn’t have done that.
I think it’s better if I just don’t see him. It’s safer
that way.
I mean, I don’t hate
him. I don’t wish him any misfortune or anything stupid like that.
It’s just that, every time I look at him, it hurts. Every
time I remember the shitty timing,
and the could have beens, it hurts.
It hurts to think that someone is capable of doing that ------- to me.
It still does.
Someday, I know that I SHOULD forgive him. I am on my way.
I don’t want to be unfair to the person who would actually
pursue me.
So, if ever you read this: “I don’t know if this is beyond
fixing or not, but what is there to fix anyway? I’d rather if we just let it
be. And stop with the guilt – trippin’. It’s taking us nowhere. Your guilt’s
giving me the wrong impression.”
How do I get
through?
This:
We were just too different. Yes, the chemistry might be
strong, or we could’ve been very complementary like two missing pieces.
But it’s just that, we just might be playing two very
different puzzles.
Fundamentally, our dating principles are very contrary.
He’s that typical guy who likes a lot of girls.
He’d pick one at his convenience and would wait around and “see where it goes”. The slightest hint of challenge would
discourage him because he doesn’t really want to work on it.
Effort? Sure, only after you’ve made it clear you’re all
over him. But that initial, most vital declaration of intention at the start of
a relationship? No.
His relationships are built on flirtation. Hence, they
don’t last.
He’s all about getting
the girl, not keeping her.
He enters relationships just for the affirmation.
He thinks it is best ------- what with now being in the
modern era and all. That’s his call. But all it has are IMPLIED INTENTIONS.
I don’t want that.
“I want someone who knows from the first time we met, that I’m something else. I want someone who
would genuinely know me and not say anything unless it is definite. And when it
finally is, would declare his intentions right at the beginning -------
And would prove it.
I want someone who would pick me up at my place for that
dinner. I want someone who would wait by the corridor just to walk me home. I
want someone who gives me random, hand - written little notes just to make my
day. I want someone who would talk with me all night, and fall in love with my
words. I want someone who falls in love with my smile every single day.
I want someone who’s afraid of holding my hand ------- or
getting physical for that matter. I want someone who’s afraid of the intensity
of his feelings ------ but is aware that it is a good thing.
I want someone who’s afraid of losing me.
He’d never make me doubt. He’d never let me sleep with a
heavy heart. He’d never stop unless I forgive him. He would never cheat on me
for some sexy young thing, because he
knows I’m so much more than that.
I would cherish his quirks. I’d watch his favorite TV
Series (hoping he won’t coerce me if it’s anime). I’d surprise him on his
birthday. I’d buy him that quarter pounder he was craving. I’d wear that classy
red dress because he said he loves it on me. I would spoil him just because he
deserves it.
We would argue. We’d share compromises. We’d make
sacrifices for the other. We would try all means, together, just to work it
out.
I don’t want him to just say all the things I want to hear.
I want him to say all that is necessary.
I don’t want him to just tell me how beautiful I look. I
want him to whisper how beautiful his life has been when he met me.
I need someone I could grow with. I need someone who would
paint the galaxies with our dreams. I need someone who has high hopes for our
future.
I need someone who is excited every Sunday morning ------- and
wakes up earlier than me. I need someone who thinks I’m the best blessing he
didn’t even deserve ------- and would thank God every single day.
I don’t need someone who sees himself when he looks into my
eyes. I need someone who sees God in them.
I don’t want a confused little boy. I need a man ------- a
man after God’s own heart.”
No matter how badly we wanted it to work at that time, it never did.
And it never will ------
Unless one would actually stoop down and set aside his or
her principles.
And it’s not gonna be me.
It’s never going to be me.
It is said that we will experience three types of love in this lifetime: The First Love, Great Love, and True Love.
(If this is too cheesy for you, you can stop reading now).
The First Love would make you realize how beautiful love can be. Your
innocent perception of love being a prince
saving the damsel in distress would be shattered. It will set the standard.
In my case, I found it when I was too young. He was a
Christian, had a good heart, and he came from a VERY good and distinguished
family.
We were close friends then on the Valentine’s Day of 2007, he
confessed he had deeper feelings for me. He introduced me to his parents, and I
would never forget what his dad said. I hope I’d hear it again.
He was very persistent, and did efforts you would not
believe a young boy would do.
You might smirk and say, At that age, what does he know?
Well, I’d bluntly say that he had a very clear
understanding of what a man in love should be: The understanding that
relationships should be based on mutual respect and honesty. He sure knew a lot
more than most of the guys these days.
I ended it, simply because I was ashamed. We were indeed,
too young.
Age played the critical role, and if we’d ever meet again
---------
I heard he’s the lead guitarist in their worship team now.
He never had a girlfriend.
The Great Love would open you to the realities one would have to face. It
would make you question everything you think you knew about love. It would have
the greatest impact, and would build your identity not only in your
relationships, but your identity as a person
as well.
If love was a test, this would be the make – or – break that everyone would dread.
You will realize how naïve you were, and now, you know what
you really want. You have never been more certain.
It will set the definition.
Finally, The True
Love. It would be the one. You’d realize that everything you’ve been
through, whether the good or the bad, finally makes sense. All of them led you
to this.
It will set your destiny.
We will meet these kinds of love in different stages of our
lives, at different cases, and at different times. The lucky ones find all of
these in just one person.
I had my first love when I was in grade four. He was the second type.
The third one?
He’s on his way. God is preparing him just as much as He is
preparing me. I know that he is praying for me right now, just as much as I am
praying for him.
I believe that we will meet on perfect timing, no hitches,
baggage, whatsoever ------ because we both waited on God, the Author of Time.
I will meet him
And I will know
him
Because when he
speaks,
I will be reminded
of Solomon’s wisdom.
His ability to
lead would remind me of Moses.
His faith would
remind me of Abraham…
His inspiration
would remind me of Paul.
His heart for God
would remind me of David,
And his ability to
love selflessly and unconditionally
Would remind me of
Christ.*
And it will be beautiful, so much more than I could ever
imagine.
He will be God’s most perfect gift to me, and I, the most
valuable gift to him.
“I let that love go not because I wanted to. I did, because
I needed to.”
DISCLAIMER: This post does not tell of my present state, or tell of the angst that I may or may not have. This was made two months ago, then edited for the past few days. I just thought it was a nice piece of literary work. :)
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