defy gravity!

i heard a beautiful love story last night right after dinner, like a sweet dulce that closed the meal quite perfectly. michelle, the would be bride, had her eyes trained on me as ryan, her betrothed, told me how they met and how they got to be sitting right across me, asking me to host their wedding.

i couldn’t help but cry as he was telling me all this, pouring out all the details to the chagrin of his wife-to-be. they thought mine were crocodile tears, but deep inside i was swearing that one day, i’ll stop hosting weddings. every time i see that the love is real, like that one last night, it makes me want it so.

ryan met michelle through the latter’s driver who sold a car to the former (used car dealership, sweets). ryan’s dad casually mentioned that they were looking for a good match for his boy, and the driver took matters into his hands. a visit was arranged, a twisted sort of blind date where all the folks were present. an arranged meeting. in this day and age.

the night before the visit, ryan boozed up with a buddy, trying to make sense of things. "Should I go on ahead with this?" his constant query. for the first time in his life, he came home at half past six in the morning and got punched by his mother. presumably not for the first time

a few hours later at 10am, he was making his way  up michelle’s house in a red shirt to camouflage his flushed by alcohol look; she didn’t come out until lunch.

and now they were here, in front of me. she was constantly putting slices of meat on his plate, and he kept cracking the jokes. he made me laugh, and he obviously made her laugh inside. i saw it was real and that’s when the tears started to make their way, stealthily, steadily down.

p’s face flashed and i thought out muted if our love story made a good one. it probably wouldn’t hold a candle to this one, not by a spark. it’s not even a love story. just a few hours ago, he thanked me for always understanding him and loving him for all that he is. and that i needn’t say what i felt because i’ve made it known through my actions and that, in his words, it’s too much.

my love is too much. and, at that rate, i was holding back.

he doesn’t know what a blog is, so i’m safe. this love, too much or otherwise, will be here when you need it. and one day, i’ll make a good story out of it to make another’s tears flow, because i’m tired of seeing mine go down this drain.

perhaps one day i will manage to fall in love, and not start to apologize about it as a reflex. as if i did something very wrong for feeling that way about you. or apologize because i didn’t turn out quite like you would have wanted. but as you remain there, not caring (for now) what the others will say, i want to say thank you. i’m the lucky one here.

for now, i do not want to say i’m sorry. not tonight. this is a good start…an unlearning of years of Learned Wrong

me