Le Coucher


Hello, you.


I heard you’re getting married. Just saw a random pre-wedding picture of you and her.


You seemed happy. Her skin glowed against the last rays of light from the sunset… And she seemed happy,too…


Several years ago, it was what we planned — to be wed… But now, you’ll be wed to someone else. Someone who’s not me.


The sunset? It was part of it, too. You knew how I love sunsets…


I can still remember the way you whispered in my ear that you’ll marry me under a sunset…


It’s ironic that I am looking at a very new photograph and yet it seems like it’s all too familiar, which makes me feel nostalgic and melancholic at the same time…









Why am I even writing this in the first place?

Prodigal Love


Give your best.

Give him your best.

Love him the best way that you can…

And if in the end things don’t work out–of course with all that you are, you’re hoping that it will– at least, you can tell yourself that you did not lack.

Just love him wholly, truthfully, and faithfully..

…without holding anything back.

They say it’s too much.

But I say, it’s love…

..a prodigal kind of love…

The Unwanted Friend

Uncertainties and fears have crippled me,

Told the world to let me be,

My mind was filled with such a confusion,

Engulfed by sadness—

Drowned out the fiery passion.



In their eyes

I am the strong one,

But only I know when all my strength has gone,

Abandoned and orphaned a person such as I,

No one has ever heard my silent cries.



Half alive and scarcely breathing,

I was alone in the valley,

Yearning, searching,

Longing for something,

This is so far from being alluring.



Words and speech slur,

Dreams and visions become a blur,

No one cares—


no one…

I know I’ve been left all alone.



It’s better this way in isolation,

An unwanted friend came who’s called “Depression”,

Made me sulk in the corners of my very heart,

But alas!

I have found solace in the dark…

Dream Wedding

I don’t know how it would feel,

How I would look—

I don’t know exactly,

Because it’s just here all in my head.

I don’t know when it becomes real,

How much it would differ from the books.


I’ve seen several weddings before.

A man and a woman so deeply in love,

People I personally know, while some I do not,

Decide to spend a new chapter of their lives.

Till death do them part,

Spending the rest of their days

In each other’s embrace.


And wedding after wedding

that I’ve been able to witness,

I cannot help but wonder,

When is mine gonna happen?


Will there be a brave man

Who will be valiant enough

To pop the golden question to me,

“Please, will you be my wife?”


And just thinking of it

Brings tears to my eyes.

Why, you may ask?

It’s because I’ve got two things in mind.

It’s either it would happen


it would not…

The former is glorious.

The latter, glorious still,

but with a different form.


So I sit here, my pen does the talking,

My heart does the thumping,

And my mind does the thinking.


I see butterflies flying,

Flowers gracefully scattered on the floor,

The smiling faces of people…


I see myself in a delicate,


white dress…


… But…


Who could he be?

How does he look like?



Or does he only exist in my dreams?

Do Not Say You Love Me If You Think You’ll Change Your Mind

Got into me, had to share.🙂

The Fickle Heartbeat


A beautiful feature post by Single Strides.

Love has been taken for granted. We flaunt it and we damage it on so many more platforms than our hearts. We let the words fall off of our tongues and explode hearts like bombs, but then we try to sweep it under the rug and ignore the permanent mess that it has made.

We take it as seriously as we take traffic rules, but we don’t realize the risk we’re taking with others’ lives. We pretend and live as actors in a scene that is bound to break at intermission. But don’t you want your happy ending?

We go through relationships just to pass the time. We date around just for the hell of it. We sleep around just for fun. We marry and we divorce. We scatter broken hearts across the world and leave it to others to clean up…

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I’m Living Proof That Constant Nagging Will Ruin Your Child’s Future Relationships

Note To Self

Thought Catalog

Flickr / VarvaraFlickr / Varvara

If the Olympic games offered nagging as a competitive sport, my mother would take the gold, silver and bronze. In fact, if there were a lifetime achievement award for this time-honed skill, I’m sure she’d snag that too because no one deserves the title, ‘Nag of the Century’ quite like my mom does. When it comes to nagging—the polar opposite of effective communication — she’s the CEO of the entire operation.

My earliest and sharpest memory of her screeching, harpy nagging ability took place in a Japanese restaurant in New York City. Those were the days when chic urban sushi places didn’t exist and Japanese restaurants were these very quiet, dark, elegant places where patrons tried the exotic dishes of the day, none of which were served raw. Still, the vibe of the place was stoic; soft koto music in the background, kimono-clad wait staff and that…

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