If somebody likes you, it's no good unless he likes you all the way.:-p
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I avoid left-handed Aquarians like the Plague. And soon, probably February-borns too. (I'm talking about Boys here, by the way.:-p)
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I never really was a boyfriend-needy girl. I mean, I'm more often single than in a relationship. It just how I rolled. When you grow up with boys (like I did), you get so comfortable with them, you'll treat them as friend material unless they really stand out.
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When I was 8, I wrote a boy a love note and dropped it off at his mother's office, who worked in an office space just down the hall from my mother's. When she asked if i wrote it, i denied it was me. of course. haha.
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To welcome Valentine's Day, one of the nurses I worked with brought food enough to feed 10 people ('cause that was the number of staff at the hospital where I worked that night.)...it was so nice and spontaneous, it was almost like Christmas. :-)
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I once dated someone who was born on February 14, ironically, eventually, he wasn't the epitome of love, he was more of a Janus*. lol. I don't hate him or love him... I'm over the nasty break-up heart-wrenching drama, thankfully. In the end, we find that the opposite of love is not hate, but indifference, anyway. It was a chapter,and although an educational one, I'm glad it's finally closed.
(* Janus = who, if he had two heads to see past and future, must also have had two hearts, presumably.)
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When I was younger and still in Iloilo, I sat on a couch and talked the whole night away with a person on the opposite end of it who made my heart do occasional flutters and fibs... made my tummy ache from laughing, made my face hurt from all the smiling and made my spirit light as a feather, and my soul as peaceful as...(how do I describe it?) the restful sleep of someone who knows she doesn't have to do 24 hour duty the next day.^
He briefly squeezed my hand when he said goodbye and I wrote him a letter once. He was a great guy. I haven't seen him since, but still, he is a nice memory.
(^ To an overworked doctor, a full night's sleep...with no obligations or 24 hour duties the day after, is like heaven. Peace like heaven.)
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Falling in (and out of) love is a time- and energy-consuming process. I can only fall in love with one boy at a time...and take a year to get over one when it falls apart. (Which is why I'm so terribly picky. :-))
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My bestfriend's boyfriend once told her, "I'm torn between you and my liberty...", with the choice being a non-issue with him until he met her. For me, though, the mythical "The One" would be someone I would not need to give up my liberty for, but instead someone I feel I could share it with. :-)
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I'm not perfect, so I'm not looking for Mr. Perfect. I'm just a good girl. :-)
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For a while, I've always thought of finding true love as like one day looking in a mirror and realizing you like your own smile...who would've thought that you were six years old and having your permanent teeth come out too big for your head/face would have you end up this way in your twenties? Everything you go through has an essential purpose, with everything falling into place when the time is right.
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A great guy (a keeper!) is like high-heeled strappy sandals or pumps, beautiful ones. One that just "grabs" you...one that you can't stop thinking about after you try to pass it by in the mall. One that, when you try it on, just feels right and goes with anything you have...and comes in the your size (believe me, for someone with 8.5-9, like moi, this is hard to find.) and fits perfectly. And when you buy it, it makes you feel and look good and beautiful, and adds a spring to your step and a sassiness to your whole demeanor...like a great guy would. :-p
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I'm easy to please. I like holding hands,hugs and kisses, pink roses... oh, and guys with a big vocabulary, knowledge of good literature, athleticism,reasonable cooking skills, a good sense of humor, considerable height, entertainment value, a guy who can roll with the punches, likes kids and babies, believes in occasional laissez-faire (for moody times), can make things happen, can take care of you and has pink gums... would really seal the deal. (Like I said, I'm easy to please. ;-) haha)
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On Valentine's Day morning, a woman in labor just shows up while I'm on duty, without a record of a prenatal check-up (which is never good), no labs, no ultrasound, was multiparous and home-delivered on others, (and with no proper endorsement from her midwife as to why she was just referred) at the hospital. Cord prolapse (which occurs in 0.6% of deliveries) happened and let's just say I only managed to save one person of the duo after everything I did.
It was a sad morning, a red table, and it broke my heart.
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The concept of " Red sleeves" was taken from the Lyrics of One Republic's song, Secrets. It talked about how there was a need for something to confess, until one's sleeves have turned red. I took it as being too honest to the point of wearing one's heart on one's sleeve everyt ime and running the risk of it being painfully broken...thus staining your sleeves...but you didn't need that explanation, right?:-p I hope you guys had a great Valentine's Day...it is meaningful to a select group of people. Don't count me in yet. LOL. My parents drove 2 hours to pick me up from work, allowed me stops to take pictures of things (yey!) we passed by (including the picturesque cemetary) in one of the towns we passed by), I went out for dinner with friends and family, but declined a date. That's about it...how'd yours go?
Sorry about the brief Sabbatical...I felt I needed to recharge and take a break...I needed to have some alone time...
~ S.
