… ok, not really …
… amusing perhaps …
… a little exciting …
… oh-so-excruciating …
… sometimes annoying …
… definitely amazing.
Love stories are love stories …
… even minus the happy ending.
Euwuh… who wrote that?! Oh… Right… I did. Ew.
Yes, folks. 2009 marks the year I began writing gross love poems. I know right?! So. Not. Me.
But considering how this year has brought out the utterly pathetic hopeless romantic in me, I guess it’s so me after all.
This year also marks my first heartbreak (if you don’t count the time I avoided this guy for an entire semester in college just to keep myself from falling for him – you know who you are – and it’s not you, Jih… I avoided you for one semester for very different reasons).
To make the long story short, I got deeply infatuated quicker than I ever have before. Guy falls in love with someone who isn’t me. I cry. My heart breaks into pieces. Jihan stomps on them like the true friend that he is. Pinky tries to help pick them up. I find out that he stands on totally different convictions than I do. I feel better. I get over him quicker than I fell for him. Glenn expresses his delight on a Facebook note where I have declared the X Files closed. And then I made the biggest mistake of all. I sang.
I’m not sure if that makes sense to you, but it makes sense to me. As of now, I am the evil witch in their fairy tale, the whatever-it-is-that-was-breaking-Romeo-and-Juliet-up to their Romeo and Juliet. And I don’t have any idea how it got to that. All I did was sing.
Honestly, it has reached the point where it has just gotten absurd and funny and weird and, in a lot of ways, awkward.
Blame it when two birds (not me) began to sing to my oh-so-clueless father during the NPG in Cebu. Ugh… I hate awkward situations.
Am I making any sense at all?!
Doesn’t really matter. What matters now is I’m free, free from the crazy uncontrollable infatuation that has been plaguing me on a daily basis. I would trade that for the awkwardness any day.
As for the guy… I still respect him, just not in the same way I did before. He fell from his pedestal, and he is now – in my eyes – completely and utterly human. My bitterness tells me that he’s a joke. Reality tells me that I’m the joke for having fallen for him.
So yeah… I guess my love story – apart from its not-so-happy ending – is kind of funny. Joke eh. Toinx.
On a more serious note, I’m actually glad to be back on the waiting stage, not agonizing over whether this guy is or isn’t the one God prepared me for. Looking back at some of my past writings, I dare quote myself:
(Referring to the song, Spoken For by Mercy Me) It is, to this day, one of the songs of my heart as a woman who has been and will always be spoken for.
What exactly do I mean when I say that I am a woman who has been “spoken for”? I’m neither engaged nor married. I’m not even (nor have I ever been) in a romantic relationship.
When I say that I’m spoken for, I only mean to say that I already belong to Someone. Someone has already staked His claim in my life. And that Someone is my Savior, my beloved Master – none but God alone.
To Him, I have surrendered control of my life. And this heart belongs to Him.
I would often tell my aunt… that I am called to singlehood until further notice.
That’s my way of saying that, at this point in my life, my heart is to serve the Lord. My heart belongs to Him.
I Corinthians 7:34 “… An unmarried woman or virgin is concerned about the Lord’s affairs: Her aim is to be devoted to the Lord in both body and spirit. But a married woman is concerned about the affairs of this world – how she can please her husband.”
To be devoted to the Lord in both body and spirit… To give Him full control. To allow Him to guide my choices and direct my paths.
I’ve written many love letters to and prayers and rants about my future husband, but I have surrendered even him to my Lord. If I were to marry (and that will happen only when my God gives me clear instruction about to whom and when this will happen), it will be to a man who is also a doulos slave (as I am also) to my Lord and Master – Jesus Christ. And this man will not be my choice – he will be my Lord’s choice for me as I also am the Lord’s choice for him. 🙂
Until and beyond then, my heart is spoken for…
Child of the risen Lord
To hear You say “This one’s Mine”
My heart is spoken for.