Look at this adorable, oblivious, wide-eyed kid… he had no idea how much joy and love he’d bring me some years later.

On this day twenty-two years ago, my love was born. Had that one sperm cell not squeezed and raced its way like crazy against all those other sperm cells, I wouldn’t have one of my joys personified in my life right now.

My baby, my love, happy happy birthday. I cannot thank God enough for blessing my life with someone like you. Today, we celebrate the day all of these people were born: a responsible son, a loving brother, a thoughtful friend, a helpful stranger, a friendly acquaintance, and the best boyfriend a girl could ask for. And boy am I lucky to have found all of these people in you.

On your birthday and in all the days of your blessed life, I pray for nothing but love, happiness, good health, protection, and God’s guidance and provision. Bby, always remember how much talent and amazing ability you have in you. I pray you finally have that courage in you to more confidently showcase them to the world. If you ever doubt what you’re capable of, your girlfriend (me) (akikikiki) will always be here to remind you. And because I know reminders from me aren’t enough, then at least don’t doubt what amazing things He has placed in you and what He knows you’re capable of doing with them.

Thank you for being the most patient and loving person with me, bby. I am always, always grateful for you, love. Thank you for all the food trips, for being the best chef boyfie ever, for always being up for spontaneous laags, and for being able to tolerate long days of silence when you just keep me company while I study. You’re the best, bby.

Happy happy birthday again to you, bby! I love you so much. I honestly never thought I’d still come across someone so unbelievably amazing like you. All the amazing traits you have as well as your little imperfections all add up to create one of the best people I know, and all of these are also the reasons why I love you so. More birthdays and blessings, my bby! <3

“Do you think this’ll last?”
“What will?”
“This. Us. I mean, you know, you see other couples, those just a little older than us, those in the age where they know what they want but aren’t quite there yet? Yeah. You see them in pictures and you see them posing just a bit more formally than us, just a bit more old-ish, d’you get what I’m saying? Yeah, anyway, do you think that they once were just like us, too? Young… I mean, obviously, young. But like, young, careless, rowdy…”
“Rowdy?”
“Yeah, ugh, whatever. Rowdy, messy, but, you know, fun. Happy, and…”
“….and in love?”
“Yeah… yeah. I don’t know. I guess all I’m trying to ask is if what we’re feeling now… do you think this’ll be enough for us? Like, do you think what we’re feeling now as the young, seemingly naive, ‘us’ now will be enough for the ‘us’ in the future?”

September 27, 2010 was the date I last wrote about you on my big orange diary. There was just one word written in that entry: CHURVA!, which meant that at the time I wrote that, I was too afraid someone would read what actually happened that day so I wrote that one-word expression instead (which I now highly regret, by the way). It was probably the first time we held hands, though, or maybe hugged, most probably the former, but anyway it was definitely about intimate stuff that I was too scared my mother or sister would find out or read about. Welp.

The next entry that was about you came eight months later, this time on a small purple journal my best friend gave to me a couple of years back. It was only ever just one entry there that I had written about you, one long one, as opposed to the one-word entry I had left before of you. Because this time, there were no more intimate secrets to hide, there was only the heartbreak I wanted to scream out to the world. There was only the heartbreak that I had finally gotten tired of carrying around alone, and writing that entry at the time felt like the only way I had to relieve me of the emotional baggage that I allowed to weigh myself down.

Between September 2010 and May 2011, there was October, November, December, January, February, March, and April. Seven months. Seven months where I had not written a word about you in any of my diaries or journals. There was nothing but silence, for my diaries at least.

Those seven months of journal-writing silence is one of the strongest proofs I have of how much I actually enjoyed the days I spent with you. I enjoyed them so much that there simply wasn’t time for me to stop and keep a record of them. I was having such lovely days with you that I didn’t even think it would be possible for them to end, for us  to end. I felt so in love with you that I didn’t know that what we had could actually come to a stop.

If I had known, I’d probably have written every single day that I was with you, just so I could read them now and re-live the feelings I had and the moments I shared with you.

I know that wouldn’t have allowed me to fully enjoy the days we shared together, but it could have at least given me more vivid memories to remember in times like this when I’m missing you, or maybe just the feeling of being with you, the most.

I hope you’re doing well.

wellthatexplainsalot:

You know in the movies were the main guy has a friend whose a girl, who clearly has a crush on him, yet he abandons her to go with the popular crowd. But then by the end of the movie he realizes he loved her all along? I really want there to be a movie where the girl is like ‘no, you were acting like a dick. I’m not interested anymore’. Basically what I’m saying is that LAYLA FROM SKY HIGH SHOULD HAVE STAYED WITH WARREN PEACE

Here it is.

My desire, my dream, my fantasy.

Finally got you, you beautiful night sky.

I am so in love with you.