Box of Cookies

I have had a tough day and I knew I was not looking my best with dark circles under my eyes and a mess which was supposedly my hair. I probably lost all the glow of the tiny bit of make up I put on about twelve hours ago. I probably look like a zombie that just walked out of the grave. I was surprised, though, when you showed up just when I was about to leave and end the day as it was -- horrifyingly stressful. Your hands were behind your back. I had no patience left for games. Sensing my cranky mood, you simply revealed what was behind you. A box of chocolate chip cookies. I was confused and looked at you as if asking if those cookies were for me. You gave me a soft chuckle. I love it when you do that, when you think I am being silly but you still like me anyway. I joined you, and your chuckle turned to a laugh. It has probably been two minutes since you came, and neither of us said a word, yet I felt like we just exchanged a perfectly understood conversation. Still, without a word, I grabbed the cookies with the energy of a three-year-old, and for a moment there, I was gently electrified when my fingers ever so lightly touched yours. Then and there, I knew I was reborn. Well, figuratively speaking, of course, as I know I was still a huge mess. There is something about you that makes everything as natural as breathing. There is a certain lightness like a show of dandelion snow floating about in such a carefree manner, and suddenly, the world seems not harsh at all. I looked back at the box of cookies. If there was a way to eat them and preserve them, I would do that. I wanted to freeze this moment. I couldn't be more thankful for your simple gesture that reminded me about the beauty of life. You are as sweet and as likable as your box of cookies. Now, cookies would probably always remind me of you, and maybe, just maybe, I would always be bursting with butterflies and joy and energy every time I have this delightful treat.

Confession of a Lovestruck Girl

Being an adult (at least my age says so), I thought that I was wise enough to make my own decisions. I thought I could listen to what my heart says because I was sure that the surge of teenage hormones has passed. I thought I knew how to maneuver through the swerves of life, though honestly, I still haven't learned how to drive a car or even ride a bike. I thought I was right to sit here and wait for something or someone that I now know would never come. It hurts me to think of him this way, but as some people told me, everything happens for a reason. I don't know what the reason is, but I would like you to know that I am willing to take a huge risk to find out. I would do it for you. I know it seems unfair of me to put you in that risk, but I can promise you one thing - we will get through this together. I mean, how can I not even at least try after all the wonderful things you have done for me? Yes, just so you know, I haven't taken anything for granted. I clearly remember that first moment we shared a laugh while wrapping Christmas presents, that night in the cab when you lightly brushed the hair out of my face because I was too sick move, that box of chocolates which made my heart pound with excitement, or that day when I was surprised with a lavish gift of my current favorite book series with a cute little note attached. Nonetheless, the memory that I treasure the most was when you patiently waited for two hours just to take me to an unfamiliar place where my best friend is waiting for me. I loved your enthusiasm of meeting my best friend. I loved your corny stories that seem to stop the ticking of the clock altogether. I loved your optimism when every other plan failed like I told you we were a little too late to get to the place where my best friend was waiting. I had fun, though, at that little ratty old fast food place where we sat across each other and I so badly wanted to reach out and hold your hand. Instead, I held your gaze. I stared into those eyes seeing nothing but how wonderful you are. Honestly, I wanted to kiss you then and there, but I was held back by my fear. Fear of first, never having been kissed, and second fear of losing you because of my fragile heart. I was afraid to start something that I know I cannot finish. I guess what I am saying is, I am afraid to fully commit myself to you because he is still a huge part of my life. I wish you could forgive me after this confession because I honestly don't know what to do if I lost you. Just so you know, I am not saying yes yet, but I am definitely not saying no. I just wish you could give me time to heal, time to pick up the broken pieces, so I could love you the way you love me - whole and true.