Today I saw a phone number on my cellular, I wasn't expecting that call or simply I was supposed to call her since a week, but I don’t know what delayed it, and i wanted to be the one who calls first!
She told me that she got her baby on 11th this month.
she is celebrating on Friday, and she is waiting me with her baby “S”.
Our last call was quite long time ago, we had this chitchat about the date expected to receive her babe, it was 14th, she told me it could probably be delayed, and we had fun that she has to get it exactly the same day of my Birthday!
I will be auntie auntie Tota now…
I recalled our first day in the faculty when we started to know each others. Since that day we didn’t apart, she is the dearest friend to me & although that, I’m not keeping in touch with her, most of times she is the one who calls & thank god she is not mad at me from doing this, she is just such a great friend & I do really miss her …
Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; but a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
To “O”
Friday, December 16, 2005
December’s Sorrows
Something is slipping inside me these days … a feeling of depression, fear or disappointment ... emptiness.
I don’t feel want to do anything. to write, read or even Study !
i cant share with others around me.
Time passes and yet I cant feel its value
Not coz I finally left my job since December 7th?
That what I already wanted to do from the beginning, not much of spare time, on contrarily I feel there is no enough time to do anything. Although I already do nothing... I wonder where all this time goes?
I know it when I slide into such mood, I don’t like to stick with it long
Sometimes I say to myself .. keep on filling those pages .. a New year is coming.
It seems for me as a life between two worlds hovering between both, on a deeper level; it consumes me up, sometimes I pretend to be happy, it works when u put urself in such mood & sooner it flips to the previous mood just in a glimpse of a second.
I’m trying to go through it not over it, but it doesn’t work with me!
I don’t feel want to do anything. to write, read or even Study !
i cant share with others around me.
Time passes and yet I cant feel its value
Not coz I finally left my job since December 7th?
That what I already wanted to do from the beginning, not much of spare time, on contrarily I feel there is no enough time to do anything. Although I already do nothing... I wonder where all this time goes?
I know it when I slide into such mood, I don’t like to stick with it long
Sometimes I say to myself .. keep on filling those pages .. a New year is coming.
It seems for me as a life between two worlds hovering between both, on a deeper level; it consumes me up, sometimes I pretend to be happy, it works when u put urself in such mood & sooner it flips to the previous mood just in a glimpse of a second.
I’m trying to go through it not over it, but it doesn’t work with me!
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Signed for Dead
Did you watch that movie “Message in a Bottle”? I just like it, that kind of pure feelings from Kevin towards his dead wife, although it was ironic that he is saying it all after her death … she can’t listen, some people may say that dead people can watch & hear us … but do they have those same feelings we know in life, does it really mater then?
even if she was dead … even if he just remembered to apologize, to tell her how pretty & nice she was! .. he was very sensitive and honest in his feelings & words.
of course the original story written by: Nicholas Sparks is much better than the movie; its script & specially the letters written by Kevin Costner was amazing which altered me to look for the novel but unfortunately I couldn’t find it, I only found two letters posted on the net .
Dear Catherine,
I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in so long. I feel I've been lost. No bearings, no compass. I kept crashing into things, a little crazy I guess. I've never been lost before. You were my true north. I could always steer for home when you were home. Forgive me for being so angry when you left. I still think some mistake's been made and I'm waiting for god to take it back.
But I'm doing better now. The work helps me. Most of all, you help me. You came into my dream last night with that smile of yours that always held me like a lover, rocked me like a child. All I remember from the dream is a feeling of peace. I woke up with that feeling and tried to keep it alive as along as I could.
I'm writing to tell you that I'm on a journey toward that peace. And to tell you I'm sorry about so many things.
I'm sorry I didn't take better care of you so that you never spent one minute being cold or scared or sick. I'm sorry I didn't try harder to find the words to tell you what I was feeling. I'm sorry I never fixed the screen door. I fixed it now. I'm sorry I ever fought with you. I'm sorry I didn't apologize more. I was too proud. I'm sorry I didn't bring you more compliments on everything you wore and every way you fixed your hair.
I'm sorry I didn't hold on to you with so much strength that even god
couldn't pull you away.
All my love,
g
My Dearest Catherine,
I miss you darling, as I always do, but today is especially hard because the ocean has been singing to me, and the song is that of our life together. I can almost feel you beside me as I write this letter, and I can smell the scent of wildflowers that always reminds me of you. But at this moment, these things give me no pleasure. Your visits have been coming less often, and I feel sometimes as if the greatest part of me is slipping away.
I am trying, though. At night when I am alone, I call for you, and whenever my ache seems to be the greatest, you still seem to find a way to return to me. Last night, in my dreams, I saw you on the pier near Wrightsville Beach. The wind was blowing through your hair, and your eyes held the fading sunlight. I am struck as I see you leaning against the rail. You are beautiful, I think as I see you, a vision that I can never find in anyone else. I slowly begin to walk towards you, and when you finally turn to me, I notice that others have been watching you as well. “Do you know her?” they ask me in jealous whispers, and as you smile at me, I simply answer with the truth, “Better than my own heart.”
I stop when I reach you and take you in my arms. I long for this moment more than any other. It is what I live for, and when you return my embrace, I give myself over to this moment, at peace once again.
I raise my hand and gently touch your cheek and you tilt your head and close your eyes. My hands are hard and your skin is soft, and I wonder for a moment if you’ll pull back, but of course you don’t. You never have, and it is at times like this that I know what my purpose is in life.
I am here to love you, to hold you in my arms, to protect you. I am here to learn from you and to receive your love in return. I am here because there is no other place to be.
But then, as always, the mist starts to form as we stand close to one another. It is a distant fog that rises from the horizon, and I find that I grow fearful as it approaches. It slowly creeps in, enveloping the world around us, fencing us in as if to prevent escape. Like a rolling cloud, it blankets everything, closing, until there is nothing left but the two of us.
I feel my throat begin to close and my eyes well up with tears because I know it is time for you to go. The look you give me at that moment haunts me. I feel your sadness and my own loneliness, and the ache in my heart that had been silent for only a short time grows stronger as you release me. And then you spread your arms and step back into the fog because it is your place and not mine. I long to go with you, but your only response is to shake your head because we both know that it is impossible.
And I watch with breaking heart as you slowly fade away. I find myself straining to remember everything about this moment, everything about you. But soon, always too soon, your image vanishes and the fog rolls back to its faraway place and I am alone on the pier and I do not care what others think as I bow my head and cry and cry and cry.
Garret
even if she was dead … even if he just remembered to apologize, to tell her how pretty & nice she was! .. he was very sensitive and honest in his feelings & words.
of course the original story written by: Nicholas Sparks is much better than the movie; its script & specially the letters written by Kevin Costner was amazing which altered me to look for the novel but unfortunately I couldn’t find it, I only found two letters posted on the net .
Dear Catherine,
I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in so long. I feel I've been lost. No bearings, no compass. I kept crashing into things, a little crazy I guess. I've never been lost before. You were my true north. I could always steer for home when you were home. Forgive me for being so angry when you left. I still think some mistake's been made and I'm waiting for god to take it back.
But I'm doing better now. The work helps me. Most of all, you help me. You came into my dream last night with that smile of yours that always held me like a lover, rocked me like a child. All I remember from the dream is a feeling of peace. I woke up with that feeling and tried to keep it alive as along as I could.
I'm writing to tell you that I'm on a journey toward that peace. And to tell you I'm sorry about so many things.
I'm sorry I didn't take better care of you so that you never spent one minute being cold or scared or sick. I'm sorry I didn't try harder to find the words to tell you what I was feeling. I'm sorry I never fixed the screen door. I fixed it now. I'm sorry I ever fought with you. I'm sorry I didn't apologize more. I was too proud. I'm sorry I didn't bring you more compliments on everything you wore and every way you fixed your hair.
I'm sorry I didn't hold on to you with so much strength that even god
couldn't pull you away.
All my love,
g
My Dearest Catherine,
I miss you darling, as I always do, but today is especially hard because the ocean has been singing to me, and the song is that of our life together. I can almost feel you beside me as I write this letter, and I can smell the scent of wildflowers that always reminds me of you. But at this moment, these things give me no pleasure. Your visits have been coming less often, and I feel sometimes as if the greatest part of me is slipping away.
I am trying, though. At night when I am alone, I call for you, and whenever my ache seems to be the greatest, you still seem to find a way to return to me. Last night, in my dreams, I saw you on the pier near Wrightsville Beach. The wind was blowing through your hair, and your eyes held the fading sunlight. I am struck as I see you leaning against the rail. You are beautiful, I think as I see you, a vision that I can never find in anyone else. I slowly begin to walk towards you, and when you finally turn to me, I notice that others have been watching you as well. “Do you know her?” they ask me in jealous whispers, and as you smile at me, I simply answer with the truth, “Better than my own heart.”
I stop when I reach you and take you in my arms. I long for this moment more than any other. It is what I live for, and when you return my embrace, I give myself over to this moment, at peace once again.
I raise my hand and gently touch your cheek and you tilt your head and close your eyes. My hands are hard and your skin is soft, and I wonder for a moment if you’ll pull back, but of course you don’t. You never have, and it is at times like this that I know what my purpose is in life.
I am here to love you, to hold you in my arms, to protect you. I am here to learn from you and to receive your love in return. I am here because there is no other place to be.
But then, as always, the mist starts to form as we stand close to one another. It is a distant fog that rises from the horizon, and I find that I grow fearful as it approaches. It slowly creeps in, enveloping the world around us, fencing us in as if to prevent escape. Like a rolling cloud, it blankets everything, closing, until there is nothing left but the two of us.
I feel my throat begin to close and my eyes well up with tears because I know it is time for you to go. The look you give me at that moment haunts me. I feel your sadness and my own loneliness, and the ache in my heart that had been silent for only a short time grows stronger as you release me. And then you spread your arms and step back into the fog because it is your place and not mine. I long to go with you, but your only response is to shake your head because we both know that it is impossible.
And I watch with breaking heart as you slowly fade away. I find myself straining to remember everything about this moment, everything about you. But soon, always too soon, your image vanishes and the fog rolls back to its faraway place and I am alone on the pier and I do not care what others think as I bow my head and cry and cry and cry.
Garret
Thursday, December 01, 2005
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