I Have Done So

Every once in a while, in life, we would meet someone that would leave a significant impact on us. Like footprints on sand on our hearts. Like ink on paper on our souls.

It is the smell that lingered around and stayed in the air, long after that person had vanished from our lives.

It happened sometime a year ago. Two hearts met amidst this weary world. I was broken and tired, seeking comfort in my solitary confinement. He was free and full of life, reaching out to the world vivaciously. I tried to avoid him with all my might. But I was drawn to his unlimited passion.

And before I realized, I’ve sank deep into that pair of brown eyes. Lost inside those seemingly bottomless hazel pools.

There was no escaping it.


He opened my eyes, made me saw the colors of life. He stirred my senses, got me in touch with the hidden passion I have. He awoken my dreams, made me realize I have so much to give.

But I was made of wood and earth, he was made of fire and wind. I did not know whether we would complement each other or whether one would destroy the other -or maybe destroy each other. What felt so right seemed so wrong.

I threw away logics and embraced that fire. The fire that later would burn me down to ashes. And because he was wind, one day he had to leave. I knew that, but I went on. And when he finally left, with trails of his soft breeze behind, the sky opened up and poured rain unto me. Covering my tears. Falling down, like scattered pieces of my dreams.

But that was then, now is now. Out of the ashes and tears, new hope flourished, growing tall and strong. And whenever a wind blows, I’d scatter my dust for it to bring, so parts of me would not be bound to stay put.

I have held. I have lost. I have laughed. I have cried. I have kissed. I have missed. And most of all, I have loved. Truly and deeply.

I have loved.

And I’m glad I did.

I was alone thinking I was just fine,
I wasn't looking for anyone to be mine.
I thought that love was just a fabrication,
a train that wouldn't stop at my station.
Home, alone, that was my consignment.
Solitary confinement.
So when we met, I was getting around you.
I didn't know I was looking for love until I found you.

(Looking For Love - Karen Ramirez)