2011-05-24T04:30:00.000-07:00

A very short, random, last minute, SLANG cover of Colbie Caillat's song Falling For You. This is what boredom can do to you.

Hello!

2011-05-23T02:56:00.000-07:00

Yay! I've revived my blog. :)

I really have no idea what to post here... yet. But hopefully I'll be able to figure out in the next few days. My mom really forced me to revive my blog since our internet connection at home is somehow losing its purpose. Sooo. She told me to do something productive with it, particularly, start a blog. And here I am, blogging my thoughts out. Honestly, I'm hesitant about this since I know it's difficult to maintain a blog. Pffft. But everything's worth a try, right?

As of now, I have nothing more to say. I temporarily rest my case.

Btw, if you're wondering, I'm the one in the middle. :)

Letters to my Future Husband

2011-05-23T02:38:00.000-07:00

The only element in this story which I can consider original is the plot. The rest were inspired from different stories which I've come across lately.

Theme and Title: I got these from Chris Tiu's blog entry about Chastity. One story shared during the event was about Cristina (I'll check the name again. I have an awful memory) It was about Cristina learning her lesson after giving everything to a guy who eventually dumped her, so she decided to write a letter to her future husband whom she hadn't met yet, telling him how she saved herself for him.

Characters: Rye's way older in this story. I got the age gap and the teacher thingy from Jordan Lynde's A Proscriptive/Surreptitious Relationship. Chris Heywood <3
I borrowed the name Lexi too, still from the same story.

So much for an introduction, huh? Sorry, this is my first time to write one too. HAHA
SORRY if it's really long.
Okay, here it goes. It's the best I've got.
Tell me what you think. Leave a comment. Thank you!

Dear Future Husband,

This is my fourteenth letter, and my last. Aside from the fact that the past letters are both lengthy and have said more than enough, I just love the number so I prefer to end it here.

Not that I'm growing impatient, but I've been writing to you for the past three years yet I still see no sign of you.

Sometimes I come to think that maybe you were one of those I overlooked and never paid attention to, but a voice inside me tells me you're not of them.

Sitting on an old log near the shore, I find it quite hard to write this to you now. Sorry if it's a bit crumpled. The wind says hi.

It's the annual summer beach party of the school, and as usual, you're not here. I know I shouldn't be looking for you since you've left the school almost three years ago, but I can't help it. Yea, I have friends. But it's different when you're around.

I stopped, eyes wide. What am I thinking? This is for FH, not Rye! I ran lines across the last paragraph. I always come to this at some point in my letters. I unconsciously address it to Rye. Rye my childhood friend, Rye my teacher, Rye my bestfriend.

I cleared my throat, straightened myself, and wrote again.

Are you searching for me too? I sure hope you are. You should share this feeling too, you know. It's not fair that I wait for you patiently and you're out there having a great time with other girls. Like what you did with Lexi before. You could always avoid her if you really wanted to, but you didn't.

I stopped, erasing the last two lines again. I looked inside my bag beside me, and found that I had no more paper to rewrite this again. I sighed, thinking it would be tiring to do this later at home. I wanted to rest before the big examination tomorrow, but I guess I couldn't. See that FH, another sacrifice for you.

I got my iPod and stuck earphones on both my ears to divert my mind away from stray thoughts. That meant thoughts about Rye, instead of what I want FH to know in this last letter.

The first song was a guitar instrumental.

I wonder if you also play a musical instrument. I can play the guitar, and a little piano. Though I can play the guitar better, I still prefer the piano. The effect's more soothing and therapeutic for me. But I wasn't able to continue learning it, since you left the school. You patiently taught me for a whole semester then, along with my other classmates in music class. When you left, I just couldn't do it on my own.

I pulled the earphones and stared at them incredulously as if they were a pair of deadly snakes. I put you on to divert my mind away from him, not toward him.

I sighed, looking around. My reactions would look very weird to anyone watching.

Deciding that the coast was clear, since the students were cleaning up for the event later this evening, I got my pen again and started to gather my thoughts once more. For FH, not Rye. I scolded myself.

I've always wanted to walk along the seashore with you one day, like those in the movies. I sound like a hopeless romantic, huh? Sorry. Just can't help it. I didn't realize how a walk with someone close to your heart can mean so much. Remember those times when you would walk me home after school? We would wait until everyone went

home so no one would see us together. You were my teacher then, since you were five years older than me. It was

my freshman year in college, and also your first in teaching. I wish we could still do that together, but I think we can't. You went away, not even bothering to tell me where and why you had to go. You just did. Up to this day, I

haven't had a single word from you. Technology has made distance a lot nearer than it is, but it seems you're still lightyears away.

I blinked. Not again. I sighed for the nth time today. Why won't you just leave me alone? Like what you did to me?

I buried my face in my palms. Wrong move. The wind swept the letter away, over the fence to the next beach.

Urgh! If there's one thing I hate the most, it's starting all over again!

I stared at the ocean in disbelief. Great. Just great. I had to pay another entrance fee if I wanted to get the letter. That's if I could still retrieve it. For all I know, it's all soaked up and unreadable by now. Shocked by the

unfortunate events, I continued to stare at particularly nothing.

I was about to stand, pick my things up and head back to the quarters, but something caught my eye. A bottle was on the shore, with a piece of paper inside. I cocked my head as a I continued to stare at it. A message in the bottle? Seriously?

I got the bottle, opened it, and removed the paper. I opened its folds, and found out it was a letter. The sun was about to set now. I looked around me, checking if there was someone again, but this time, there was.

A guy was standing just behind my things by the shore. Still holding the letter on one hand, I neared him quickly but discreetly, thinking he was a thief. As I was doing so, I wasn't looking at him. My eyes were fixed on my things, but as just as I was about to pick my bag up, he spoke.

"You're that mad, that you wouldn't even look at me?"

I froze at the sound of his voice. This can't be. THIS. CAN'T. BE.

I looked up, half of me praying I was right, half of me praying I was wrong. Right, so that I can have my childhood

friend, teacher and best friend back. Wrong, so that I wouldn't be have to be in that agonizing situation again

where I'd have to guess what I mean to him.

Fortunately and unfortunately, I was right.

I just stared at him, unable to speak.

He raised an eyebrow. "Starstruck, eh?"

I narrowed my eyes, then closed them, taking a deep breath to compose myself.

I stared at him again.

Then without warning, I slapped him hard.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" He blurted out.

"You dare ask that question?" I snapped.

He continued to stare in disbelief.

"You left without even saying goodbye, and all these years you never even sent word saying you're okay, that we don't have to worry---"

"You're worried?" He teased.

"What? That's not the point!" I sighed, frustrated. I put my hands to my face, trying to clear my mind.

'What's that?" He said.

I looked at him again, then followed his gaze. He was looking at the letter on my hand.

"Some letter I found in a bottle by the shore," I said flatly.

"In a bottle?" He repeated, as if hearing the words for the first time.

"Impaired hearing, I take it?"I didn't bother hiding the sarcasm.

He stared at it, gaping.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Open it," he finally said, serious all of a sudden.

I obeyed, then gaped at the sight of the handwriting. It was his.

"Dear Future Wife..." I read in my mind. I scanned the letter and found his initials at the bottom. I can't believe my eyes. So he wrote a letter too. But maybe this was for somebody else. I sighed at the realization.

I folded it back, not reading the content.

"What's wrong? Aren't you going to read it?" He asked.

I raised my eyebrows. "It's not for me." I stuffed the letter to his hand.

"Are you kidding me, Andy? I may have left you, but I never changed. I wrote that for you three years ago, before I left."

"Why didn't you give it to me instead, and not out to the ocean for some mermaid to see?" I asked impatiently.

"You were still young then. And worst, you were my student. I can't risk your future just for my own motives," he lowered his gaze.

Silence.

"So 21's my coming of age," I said.

"What?" He asked.

"You're back now, because I'm already of age, right?" I answered back.

He smiled. I missed those smiley eyes.

I hit his shoulder again.

"Since when have you become so violent?"

"Just now." I smiled, stooping to pick up my bag, but he was quicker. He snatched it from me and slung it over his shoulder.

He took my hand as we started to walk back. As he did, I felt something stuffed in his hand. I looked down. I stuffed his letter on his left, not on the right which I was holding now. I removed the letter from his hand and stopped dead in my tracks.

I was holding my wind-blown letter to my Future Husband.

MVJLO 04.05.2011

Source: http://www.google.com.ph/imglanding?q=beach+sunset&hl=tl&sa=X&biw=1024&bih=598&tbm=isch&prmd=ivns&tbnid=esgWiww40vWzjM:&imgrefurl=http://lanta.krabi.info/koh-lanta-attractions.htm&imgurl=http://lanta.krabi.info/images/lanta/large-pic/klong-khong-beach-sunset.jpg&w=1280&h=960&ei=1smbTcTvBMelcJvzydcF&zoom=1

big brown eyes

Hello!

Letters to my Future Husband