with a new perspective after leaving the country. You know, I wanted all sorts of material things (and I still do, but to less of an extent) to fill some emotional void… something was lacking: view of the future, positivity, faith? I dunno. But now, I have a focus. I want something tangible. I keep making promises, and I DO NOT want them to be empty bc of my failures. I want to be the best version of myself. First for myself, then for others. I want drive. I want passion. I want. But more ferociously than ever. My eyes are bright and the world is shining in a new light. And I like it this way.
“Fail gracefully. You have to be prepared to fail and not be discouraged. Failing is a gift that you can gain experience for the next thing. And copper causes Alzheimer’s. And a little sunshine is good for you.”—Day 132: Rand Miller, 54, Co-Creator of Myst & Riven, CEO of Cyan Worlds, Author (via 29years365days)
My friend once told me
she liked this guy because of his hands
And I found it absurd that anyone
would develop feelings over one feature,
and not care about the rest
It wasn’t until you used your hands
to cup the back of my neck the first time we kissed
and I could feel your firm grasp pull me closer,
and my insides exploded
and my head buzzed with bliss.
And the first night you slept over,
you fell asleep with your hand
laid over my stomach
and your fingers felt like a fire
that I didn’t mind burning my skin.
The first time we got drunk,
was the first time you played with my hair,
and my god I was hooked,
I’d drink forever if it meant you’d never stop.
And in public you’d hold my hand,
and rub your thumb in little circles
that left me wanting you more,
no matter what you would never let me go,
I was glued to you,
and I honestly didn’t mind
When we talked about breaking up,
you saw my lips quiver with fear,
and you brushed over my lips with your fingers
before pulling me into your lap
and you kissed me like never before.
With your hands on my hips
pulling me so close to you,
leaving no space in between us.
It was then I realized I never wanted you to go
Its now that,
I finally understand why hands
were the only feature that mattered
That's it guys, I'm officially "off the market," as people say [ugh I kinda despise that expression, but it's definitely applicable here]
It was August 17, 2014 when it all became official. I must say I was feeling pretty apprehensive about the whole ordeal, and finally understood the concept of cold feet. Yes, I had willingly agreed to the engagement, but the fact that I did not know him made me anxious despite all the sincerely wonderful things everyone said about him.
Actually, it really became official on the Henna Night, the day before when his family and my friends crowded mine to dance and celebrate with candles on the henna mud, as they sang songs and paraded it around. I was happy my mom was there to be my anchor.
I hated everything and everyone that day. I was unsure of the decision I had made, and I did not know the impact it could possibly have. I tried to be positive about it all on the outside, but inside, I was a wreck.
I hated my dress. I had seen it days before because my sister-in-law-to-be had brought it to me (because I told my sister I wanted white clothes instead of red—at least for the wedding). I didn’t mind it for the color as much as I minded how heavy it was. Pure torture!
I regretfully wore it that day so as not to be difficult, while the made me up into what was a perfect vision in their eyes. Then, I sat outside and waited as people came to gawk and stare and congratulate me. [I thought I would see him and he would put on the jewelry, but my brothers did it instead; even more strange.]
People fought over the sweets and money thrown about. I almost got trampled, and was genuinely a bit scared because I really couldn’t get away in those clothes, with the springy sequin-like decorations catching onto the sheet I was sitting on.
Then they finally all left, and I got to change out of the clothes.
We had lunch. Then we visited the celebration at his house (a huge party with dancing and an amazing boombox), where money was held on my family’s and my head for the dancers to grab. When I tired, we went home and I took a nap, being tired of all the day’s activities.
When I awoke, it was time to pray, and then I played the waiting game. I thought I would have seen him earlier because I was at his house twice that day; the prior time being before I showered and got ready so I could meet his grandfather who couldn’t stay for the festivities because there were too many people.
His brother provided us with a wonderful dinner, since lunch was rather disappointing, and I ate so much—I’d never eaten that much there. Afterwards, it was time to go back to his house to watch the celebration (I really wasn’t up for going, but for the sake of my friends I went). We stayed a while, and many people danced. Soon the place began to empty as people got tired and went home. His family asked me to dance many times, but I knew that it would be frowned upon for me, and besides, could I dance normally? HA!
I finally saw him float into his house and I followed him with my eyes as he went into his room and roamed about the place. People pulled on him to come dance, and they insisted I go to him. I said no not only because my aunt told me it was indecent, but also because I didn’t want to “meet” him in front of all of these people. My sister came to get me, but after the first time I refused, his mom came to get me for the second time. She’s strong and she can pull, and my aunts were actually encouraging it for once, and I got up. His mom and my aunts made us hold hands and I tried to give my right hand (but his mom held my hand so I gave my left into his right, and I just looked at him.)
It difficult to remember precise details, like the song playing or the people around us because (as Jewel said) the surroundings did slow down, and I could just see him. He seemed so happy that it was contagious, and all my fears were alleviated. I held his hand, and switched it woth my right to be formal, but his mom switched it back so she could hold my hand and his, so the three of us could dance entangled, but when she let go, I might have switched again… I’m not sure. I held his hand until my conservative grandma tapped his hand with her cane to make him let go of me, and I went to sit back down.
They celebrated that moment by giving us sweets, and I went home to pray the last prayer and to reminisce that moment.
He wanted to hold my hand the following night at the celebration—and so did I—but I got too tired since I hadn’t slept that afternoon, and I went home. Besides there were a lot of people.
My parents arranged a solo meeting eventually [8/19], and I held his hand the entire time. I was so uncomfortable (shy?) and yet so comfortable around him that it was fine. He did most of the talking, and I just answered. I did ask what languages he knew and he answered that he knew a lot of dialects. He said we should teach each other what languages the other lacks :) I found out he is 2 years younger according to his ID, with his bday being 4/2/93. I exclaimed that I was older and he said so what. I could fight with him if I wanted to because I was older! He asked if I fought like my grandma, and I said no, but he noted that we’d probably fight jokingly! We ended that session because he said my dad was out and probably would ask/wonder what was taking so long.
We met again [8/25] when his sister asked me to step in so that her mother wouldn’t yell at her for not doing chores with her. I made lemonade at their request (with limes from our house!), then we talked again. I asked for his hand like last time, and he asked where I got my bracelet, and I wondered whether I should have given it to him. I don’t remember that one much, except that was when he asked if I had wanted his skype info and I said no (because I didn’t and my sister got it for me). He asked about how long work would be, and I said 12 hours and he said I would probably be tired and he would massage me! I said I didn’t care for that, and that I wouldn’t massage him (I might, if he deserved it!) and he said he would still do it! He also told me to come back in a year so we could go out and explore about on our own! That he’d take me to fun places, and that he knows and likes motorcycles more than cars… we discussed that for a bit. His mom and my grandma interrupted this conversation, and I left to go home. My sister and his brother buffered a lot too for this convo because I was aware that it would look bad with us being alone, and he said he didn’t care what people said! I like that.
Our last meeting [8/28], I sat and planned incessantly, since I could not stop thinking about him the day before. I wanted to give him a peck on the cheek since our first holding hands session, but I couldn’t find the opportunity. (I even moisturized my hands and lips continuously.) I thought he was leaving the next day, so I was in a hurry to get one more conversation in. That day was busy too because I was packing to leave and his mom wanted me to see her dad again and I was late for the date my sister had help set up [a full 1.5 hrs, like a real girl]… Unfortunately, my dad was home that day, so I think he came to ask permission for us to meet, and then I left with my sister. Our excuse to those curious would be that we were discussing a potluck of sorts that we were to have that night. This conversation was the most comfortable we’d been, and I didn’t even realize how quickly time flew. We spent an hour talking, the longest of all sessions, and we talked about a lot, like how many kids we’d want, and he said whatever made me happy made him happy, which made him even more golden in my eyes. My sister kept coming in telling us it was time to pray and we were enjoying each other’s company so much, we didn’t want to get up. Finally, she came in, and he jokingly kicked her out of his room and said we’d pray and eat there together, and that was the cutest thing! But I left, and prayed, and thought about him as I prayed (and tried not to rush), and wanted to go back, but my dad said that was quite enough, and I tried to act unaffected but I really wanted to continue talking with him.
I saw him that night after we had prepared the meal for our potluck, and he wanted to eat with me, but my grandma was up and there were a lot of people, so that didn’t happen.
He left the next day, and looked so down that morning (but there was also another crisis with my aunt and her son-in-law), and I didn’t get to say goodbye.
It was sad for me, but also I thought all the better so that I would not need to “close” our conversation so that it would be easier on skype. I distracted myself with finishing my NCLEX review book.