You bring me flowers. We talk for hours.

I enjoy looking back on the days when I was just falling in love. There's nothing more beautiful than discovering that God is changing your heart towards someone who was once just a friend. Although you may feel strange, helpless and bewildered, to me, it's still one of the most cherished feelings ever. And it's worth documenting and sharing.

This goes out to any girl who's ever been in love. :)And especially to the man who made me feel in love...it's been over a decade since that time, darling, and I'm still in love with you! See how far we've come?! :)

You bring me flowers...
...and we talk for hours.

You bring me chicken soup, medicine and cough drops when I'm down with the flu.

You go out of your way to drive me to places, especially when it's late and/or raining.

You read me poetry and fairytales on the phone when I can't sleep.

You take a deep and genuine interest in the things that I do, from the articles that I write to the issues my youth group struggles with.

You are so good for me that it's scary. What if I'm reading between the lines...only to find that there's really nothing there?

But despite the uncertainty, I am just glad that you are my best friend, because you're the only one who takes care of me this way. Your love - whether friendly or more than that (it doesn't even matter anymore at this point) - leaves me happily spoiled and gives me something to look forward to everyday.

Darling, every girl should have someone like you.

All my life, I've prayed for someone like you.

*I wrote this blog entry on Sept. 21, 2009, a decade ago now and many months before I got engaged and married. I wanted this to be part of my wedding vows and ended up writing something similar for the ceremony. This note goes out to every single lady who is waiting and praying for their God's best...know that the wait will someday be worth it!

All my life, I've prayed for someone like you.

And I thank God that I finally found you.

I absolutely don't want to spend the rest of my life with anyone else.

Cliche or not, he is the one I've wanted all my life.

When I was six years old, all I wanted was a Prince like Cinderella's to whisk me off to his castle and show me magical places and things.

When I was ten, all I wanted was for someone to hold my hand, lay on the grass with me and talk for hours on end about everything and nothing and then tell me I was beautiful.

When I was thirteen, all I wanted was to be secure and protected, to have someone I could trust and open up to like a best friend...and then some.

When I was sixteen, all I wanted was for someone to match my level of romantic hopelessness, to read me poetry and give me flowers and chocolates and take me to picture-perfect places, and to tell me every day that he loved me.

When I was nineteen, all I wanted was someone I could be proud of, someone I knew God approved of, someone I could take home to my parents and introduce to all my friends and have them tell me he's good for me.

When I was twenty-three, all I wanted was someone to have for the rest of my life, someone who would be faithful and sensitive and, unafraid of commitment, would be in it for the long haul.

When I was twenty-five, I found him.

He is everything I've been praying for...and a little bit more. 

The Drawing

She picked up the two inconspicuous yellowing sheets of white paper, which were almost lost amid the mess of random knickknacks, office materials and other old papers spilling out of the beaten heavy-duty gray storage bin she had pulled out of the walk-in closet in the room she formerly occupied with her husband at her in-laws' house.

At first, she thought they were just pieces of scrap paper waiting to be tossed in the recycling bin, but she noticed there was something drawn in in faded gray pencil, and this drew her attention. Sentimental by nature, she usually enjoyed random, unplanned trips down memory lane - especially when cleaning out closets, chests, attics and such for objects with sentimental value. 

She suddenly felt drawn to the sketches by a warm, unexplainable familiarity. A closer look revealed a cartoon-style sketch with scenes and characters that she knew all too well. These were sketches and artwork from her artist ex-boyfriend who she had broken up with ten years before. His style was still very distinct to her - the attention to facial details and expressions; the soft edges; the singular, solid pencil strokes.

The first sheet of paper - and the one that her eyes lingered on the longest - was a drawing of a family living room at Christmas time. She recognized the sketched version of her ex-boyfriend, seemingly older with a slight pot belly, a stubble-ridden jawline and longer hair tied up in a ponytail, sat comfortably in an armchair, wearing a tank top and loose jeans. He was holding a smiling, chubby infant of unknown gender, who was clad only in a slightly oversized cloth diaper, on his lap. A Christmas tree with wrapped presents scattered underneath stood in the background. It was a self-portrait of his future self.

He sat facing the TV, and the news was on. A familiar wavy-haired female news anchor was giving the six o' clock update. That's me, she remembered, running a finger over the small caricature of her own face.

This was more than just a doodle by a bored, young artist drawn to pass the time. This was a picture of a simple dream that she shared with him more than twelve years before. They were young and had been each other's first love, and had believed that high school romances could withstand the test of time and change. Dreams came a dime a dozen, and their love was headstrong, reckless, seeing no impossibilities, as most first loves are.

Several times they had actually discussed marriage. The first time it came up, they were high school seniors and were barely two months into their relationship. They were snuggled up against each other in a movie theater, waiting for the film to start. He had kissed her on the cheek, and instead of settling back in his seat, he kept his face close to hers, looking at her so intently that it made her blush a little.

"What?" she sheepishly asked, pushing gently back against his shoulder to make space.

"I think in about five years, I'll be ready to marry you," he answered, smiling. "We'll be done with college. You'll be a news reporter, I'll be an artist. We'll be all set. We'll have a little girl and move into our own place maybe...say...after a couple more years."

He had spoken matter-of-factly, as though it were so simple, as though it could happen tomorrow. And alas, it was not. He had her for three more rollercoaster years, then she had to move thousands of miles away with her family. And, try as they would, they could not make their love last across the miles.

That moment in the movie theater happened thirteen years before, and she was surprised and embarrassed at how clearly and quickly the memory came to her. Why now? she asked herself, now that she was happily married, with a husband and a child, and thousands of miles away from where she was a teenager who had fallen in love? The memory felt awkward and out of place in the here and now; she pushed it away with a slight tinge of guilt.

She chuckled as she looked down at the drawing in her hands, realizing that she wasn't a news reporter - even though that was what she had wanted to become all throughout high school. Now, she had a college degree, a well-paying job and a desk of her own at a law firm, but had never once appeared on TV to deliver as much as a weather update. Yet, she realized, she was more than okay with that.

And, she realized further with a smile, the man who currently sat in her living room holding her baby was a far cry from the kind of man her first love was. His complete opposite, in fact. Her husband was no artist like the man in the drawing, but he was solid, dependable, loving and selfless. The kind of man whose love withstands the test of time and change. A man who was real, not imagined.

She glanced down again at the sketched dream on paper. Some things looked beautiful on paper, she thought. But some things are beautiful just because they are real, and tangible. Like the life she had now. The life she lived without him - even though, once, long ago, he had dreamed of sharing it with her.

She took one last look at the drawing, and shook her head to force herself out of her reverie. This drawing - and this old, obsolete dream - didn't belong here. She crumpled it with one hand and threw it into a nearby wastebasket. Then she walked out of the room to where her husband and child were waiting.

Transition to motherhood.

Since my last post (or at least, the phase of life I was in during the posting), a lot has changed in my life. Certain, lasting love happened. Marriage and settling down happened. Grad school happened. Pregnancy happened, and finally, childbirth & motherhood. Definitely enough milestones to change a person's perspective, and, consequently, her writing style.

I admit that all these major life changes have resulted in me having little, if any, time left over to write creatively on a regular basis. And yet, the urge to write - to document my life story through either prose or poetry, especially now when there is so much to write about - tugs at my heart, because at the end of the day, I am and always will be a writer and a poet. There's an incessant need for me to express myself through written word, especially these days when my day job and my daily routine as a wife and mom allows very little room for that.

So I am resurrecting this blog in hopes of giving myself a creative outlet, and giving the ones I love something to remember me by.

True Love Snapshot #4.

How else can I define love other than through that beautiful evening in April?

It was just another night in my spring semester, junior year of college. We were sitting inside your car, which was parked by one of our favorite spots in San Francisco at the end of another one of my long days, talking about everything and nothing and finishing off a late fast food dinner.

Outside, a cool evening breeze was blowing, ruffling the grass on this rocky cliff that sloped gently downwards, just a few feet away, into the dark waters of the Bay, whose waves I could faintly hear through your closed windows. Above us, the moon and a sparse scattering of stars peeked through the thin veil of fog.

I was in a particularly good mood that night, despite my exhaustion, happy that the weekly meeting of the Christian organization I had founded on campus – with your help – had gone well and had yielded a good turnout.

"Thanks again so much for coming tonight to play music and help set up," I said, feeling warm gratitude swell up within me. "I couldn't have done it without you."

You glanced up at me briefly and smiled as you stashed the remnants of our dinner into a brown bag. "Of course. I'm always here to help."

OF course, I already knew that. I knew that you, my best friend, would jump up and help anyone who needed it, especially me. It was your relentless "helpfulness" that got me into the predicament I was in…you always driving to pick me up late at night from theatre rehearsals and college parties, or take me to interviews for the articles I wrote. Yes, you "helping" by always picking up the phone or coming over to my apartment whenever I needed to talk to someone because I was homesick or having a bad day…you praying with me, singing with me, laughing with me, just being there.

We had been best friends for almost a year now, since I moved to the Bay. But over the past few months, after our countless drives around the city and late-night dinners and sometimes random, sometimes profound conversations, somewhere in between all of that, I had fallen in love with you.

I smiled back, popped my last French fry into my mouth and looked over at you, wondering if you had any idea at all that up until a few days before, I had been fighting those feelings off as hard as I could, not wanting to change or threaten a genuinely good friendship with these stupid emotions.

But then, you had danced with me at that fancy birthday party we attended together. Slow-danced, of all things! I let my mind replay that moment when you walked over to where I was standing, goofing around with my friends, took my hand and led me to the dance floor, choosing to ignore all the hooting and teasing of our friends (who thought they knew better than to think we were really still just best friends) all around us. It was then when I threw caution to the wind and allowed my heart to hope…

"Hello? Are you okay?" Your voice snapped me back to reality. You were trying not to laugh because I had spaced out again.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm just really tired."

You gave me this pensive look, as though you were studying my face, a half-smile on your lips. Lately, you'd been doing that more and more often, and it made me uncomfortable, because I felt like you could read my thoughts and find out my secret.

"What?" I asked, almost defensively.

"Nothing," you answered. "I'm just thinking…and I'm also really tired, actually. Can I rest a bit before I drive you home?"

"Sure," I said, moving closer to you and offering my shoulder so that you could lean on it and take a quick nap.

But, to my surprise, instead of just resting your head on my shoulder. as you were inclined to do, you turned around completely and reclined against me, your head nestling just under my chin. Then you reached for my hands and pulled my arms around you, nestling them on your belly.

And, here's me, pleasantly surprised, wondering what's going on, but enjoying the moment too much to complain. After all, what was wrong with the scenario? Absolutely nothing. We were just two best friends, hanging out - well, practically cuddling.

We stayed in this position, outwardly comfortable, but inwardly, my heart and my head were in a tug-of-war. My sensible self was scolding me. You're not supposed to fall in love, remember? So push him away, pronto! But my heart was smiling, smiling so broadly that I could have sworn it made my lips do the same.

So I let you stay there, snuggled against my belly, seemingly relaxed and content.

And then you spoke. Once you did, there was absolutely no turning back.

"I like you." It was soft, almost a whisper, almost drowned out by the sound of the waves and the hum of cars moving past.

You straightened up, turned in your seat to face me, to actually look me in the eye, fondly, affectionately. I was shaking inside, disbelieving, but willed myself to return your gaze. You took my hand and spoke again.

"I like you. I really like you."

So....what do I say to that?

The truth?

I decided, yes, I'll go with the truth. "I like you too."

And there we were, sounding like two awkward teenagers who'd never dated before, when in reality we were two twenty-somethings with our fair share of past relationships. And yet, there was no awkwardness in the moment. There was only relief, and sincerity. Finally, I did not have to keep any more secrets from my best friend.

I can never end this story with a true sense of finality. Because in reality, it has not ended. Because in reality, we are still living it out, now as husband and wife, and still as best friends, a little over a decade later.

I will always look back on that night. Picture-perfect, a scene out of a chick flick. You in my arms and your words forever changing the course of our friendship. Because of that night, I now know what the rest of my life will look like, and who I will be spending it with. I'm very glad that it's you.

Not quite just friends.

*written March 2008.

You shared a moment with me.

You whispered in my ear.

You told me all the words

That women like me long to hear.

But what's wrong with this picture

If you viewed it from afar

Is that it's only shared by friends,
And that is all we are.

I would like to move closer

But I'm scared of what I'd find

That maybe this affection

Is only in my mind.

For if I fall in love with you

Should you choose not to catch me

This fragile heart would surely break

And would not mend so quickly.

So maybe for a moment

To avoid this friendship's end

We might as well steer clear of love

And just remain good friends.

Rollercoaster.

*written April 27, 2005


You held my hand and took me on a rollercoaster ride
I didn't want to go at first; I felt so scared inside.
But once we were inside the car, you held me close and tight,
And so I thought that I'd be safe, with you I'd be all right.


The ride was calm and smooth at first. The wind blew in my hair.
The loops loomed in the distance, but I simply didn't care.
I closed my eyes and leaned on you and everything was fine.
The car had gently picked up speed, rolled up a steep incline.


And all at once you took me up to a dizzying height.
My heart was pounding in my chest, my head felt very light.
Thrill and joy pervaded me; you sealed it with a kiss.
I looked at all the world below, my heart so full of bliss.


Then suddenly the car lurched and went quickly plunging down.
I reach for you and suddenly you're nowhere to be found.
You didn't seem to hear me when your name I tried to call,
So I just went crashing down, and no one broke my fall.


Hurt, I wanted to get out. I wanted it to end,
But then I turned around, and you were in the car again.
You asked me to hold on and give the ride just one more try,
And so again, together, we rode up into the sky.


Round and round the loops, up and the down the slopes so steep
I felt both fear and thrill, and many times a pain so deep.
One second you'd be next to me, the next you'd just be gone
I tried to stop the car, but it kept going on and on...


Our love is like a rollercoaster, as I look behind.
The endless circles we've been through have left me hurt and blind.
Unless you let me out the door and end this crazy game,
I'll always ride this rollercoaster into love and pain.

Walking away.

*written January 1, 2006

I woke up this morning to the sound of rain

And felt from within me a deep crushing pain

As I then recalled what you said yesterday

That everything’s over, we must walk away.

I thought of the reasons we had to let go

That we need to part ways before we can grow

That life would be better on our own separate ways

When everything’s over and we’ve walked away.

I thought of the moments I’d spent by your side

The dreams of me someday becoming your bride

Have faded to nothing, have all gone astray

‘Cause everything’s over and you’ve walked away.

I thought of the future I’d face on my own

The long lonely nights I would spend all alone

So maybe I should have just asked you to stay

But everything’s over, and you’ve walked away.

I woke up this morning, and one thing I knew

And that’s just how deeply I’m in love with you

And that I am hoping you’ll come back someday

For now it’s all over…I must walk away.

Ten Days

written January 24, 2005

It started on a Friday, on a starlit Christmas Eve

You came and told me something that my ears could not believe.

You told me that you cared for me; you made my wish come true.

And happily I told you that I felt the same way too.

Christmas Day was perfect, my happiest so far.

You took my hand and held me close as we walked neath the stars,

You whispered sweet words in my ear and kissed me in the night.

We shared a perfect love and all the world just felt so right.

When Sunday came along I felt like walking on the clouds

We were so in love and of that fact we were so proud.

And everyone could see that we were now more than just friends,

Things kept getting better; I thought it couldn't end.

Monday was still special; I spent my whole day with you.

On Tuesday, both our families and all our good friends knew,

We drove around in your car in the dark and pouring rain,

Decided to commit; the feelings couldn't be contained.

But then on Wednesday, doubts and questions started creeping in,

We felt that things had gone too fast, and too soon to begin

We talked it over and you said that we should take things slow

There's still so much about each other that we didn't know.

Thursday...things had gotten strange. We seemed to drift apart.

Not hearing from you all day long put worry in my heart

And Friday rolled around; we shared the last day of the year.

And spending New Year's Eve with you somehow calmed my fear.

But New Year's Day was different; we did not talk at all.

You totally ignored me and did not return my calls.

Sick with hurt and worry, I then called you Sunday night,

You didn't understand me and it ended in a fight.

And that concludes the story; it was not the same again.

Until today I wonder 'bout just how and why and when

The love was lost so suddenly, it faded in the rain.

You simply have moved on and I am left with all the pain.

How could you fall in love and lose the feeling in 10 days?

While in my heart, it seems as though the feeling's here to stay.

And even as I try to heal and start to let you go,

Those were still the happiest ten days I'll ever know.

<3

written January 16, 2005

There I was, happy though alone

Simply existing,

Both feet on the ground,

I was content.

My heart was closed off

Under lock and key

Then you came along

You had the key

Opened the door

And suddenly my heart was free

To soar once more.

You pulled me up

And instantly

I was soaring on the wind

Flying high without a thought

Of ever falling.

You took my hand

And we glided carefree through open skies.

The wind in my face

And the sun in my eyes.

Then one day

Without warning

You simply disappeared

You let go of my hand

And I started to fall.

I looked around and called your name

Frightened and alone

I heard your voice

Somewhere behind the clouds

But you were nowhere to be found.

And so I kept falling

I crashed to the ground

I tried to scream

But it made no sound.

And so I lie here

Broken and wounded

I try to get up

But I simply can’t.

The wounds are deep

And may not heal

For quite some time.

I see you in the distance

But you can’t see me

And soon you will find

Someone else to fly with.

Now my heart asks

To be locked up again

The chain is there

But I lost the key.

And suddenly I remember

As I lie here alone

You took the key with you.

And all I can do

Is wait painfully here

For the wounds to heal

So that I can stand on my feet

And be happy again, though alone

To simply exist

And forget I ever flew with you.

Eyes wide open.

I think about the summer
And all it is to me
Is a faraway dream...
Beautiful, pristine, untouched by time and change.

But at the end of the day,

I still prefer the rude awakening.

It was not a mistake.
Nor was it the ideal.
All it is to me
Is a lovely fulfillment of wishes from the past
And a sweet glimpse of what is to come.

I wish you well.
I regret that you could not stay.

But at the end of the day,

We are better off where we are now.

True love snapshot # 3

It was a foggy, overcast day in July, and the sky was bluish gray, strewn here and there with bunches of cottony, dirty white clouds. A cool breeze was blowing across the central California coast, and I eagerly anticipated your arrival from my hotel room overlooking the beach.

You came to pick me up early in the afternoon. I introduced you to my three journalist friends who had taken me on an exciting, adventure-filled, week-long road trip through central California that culminated here in Pismo Beach. While I was gathering my luggage, you sat at the foot of my bed and chatted a little bit with them about tattoos and journalism.

Once you had hauled my suitcase into the trunk of your green car, (which, I was told, you had cleaned thoroughly in anticipation of our meeting) we took a leisurely stroll around the hotel, talking and enjoying the view of the ocean amid the cawing of the sea gulls perched on the craggy cliff sides and the crashing of the waves on the rocks below.

We ended up in a wooden gazebo that stood on a cliff jutting out into the sea. A wedding had just been conducted here the night before, and red rose petals were blowing across the gazebo floor. I walked over to the far side and stood gazing out into the ocean, and you followed, gently planting your hands on my shoulders as you silently watched the waves with me.

Later on we found ourselves strolling on the beach. You had your arm wrapped around my shoulders, and I leaned my head against your chest as we walked. On one side of us were rocky, towering cliffs; on the other was the crashing waves of the Pacific, and all around us was a beautiful expanse of pristine beach. There was a midsummer scattering of surfers and tourists around us, but it still seemed as though we were the only two people there.

We talked. And talked. And talked some more. You made me guess your middle name, hinting that it started with an “E," and I guessed what it was correctly the first time. I told you that a year before we had actually started talking, my best friend had already thought you’d be a good match for me and tried setting us up.

After a while, your hand found mine, and our fingers intertwined. I found your hand nicely warm despite the cool breeze.

We stopped walking and tried taking pictures of ourselves, laughing at our attempts to get both our faces in focus, until a friendly lady came up and asked if we wanted her to take our picture.

“You two make a cute couple,” she said smilingly as she handed me back my camera. We exchanged glances and blushed at the same time. She didn’t know we weren’t a couple…yet.

We found a large flat rock to sit on, and we reclined there in a comfortable silence. Your arm slid around my waist, and my hand rested on your knee.

“This is nice,” you said casually. “I like getting to spend time alone with you.”

“I do too,” I said. “I was really looking forward to seeing you again. It’s been…what…two and a half weeks?”

“Yeah, it’s been awhile,” you agreed, brushing an unruly lock of hair off my forehead.

We fell silent again for a few minutes.

“Do you mind the silence?” you asked me after awhile.

“No, I don’t,” I replied honestly. “It would sure seem that way though, because I love to talk.”

You laughed. “Well, it’s just that…I like being quiet sometimes. I like to just sit back and enjoy the moment. Especially when I’m with you.”

You looked at me then, and the sincerity in your eyes stirred up something deep inside me…something warm and nice and wonderful. I took your hand in mine again, without saying a word.

We sat there, snuggled up against each other, on that July afternoon, watching the waves crash on the beach as the sun broke through the clouds.

True love snapshot # 2

It was a warm, breezy Sunday afternoon in May. The trees surrounding your apartment were sprinkled with an array of colorful blossoms, ranging from yellows to pinks to delicate whites.

I stood here on the rooftop of the four-story apartment building, surveying the rooftops below me as the breeze blew the cotton skirt around my knees. The scene was nothing particularly special – just rows of suburban houses stretching out in both directions, occasionally interspersed with slightly taller apartments, townhouses and stores. In the distance was clearly outlined the skyscrapers of downtown.

There was a calm satisfaction in my heart at that moment, interrupted only by a pleasant shiver down my spine as I recalled how we had danced at the country club the night before. You held me close on the dance floor while the last song played, told me how happy you were at that moment, and leaned down to plant a soft, brief kiss on my lips.

For me, that moment was a fulfillment of months of waiting for you to express how you truly felt about me. The evasiveness and denial had been stressing me out prior to that evening, prior to that kiss. I still had not heard the words I was hoping to hear – not yet, at least – but with the progress we were making, I knew that it wouldn’t be long before you would say them.

Just several moments earlier, we were having lunch with a group of friends from church. You had given me secret, meaningful smiles all throughout the meal. After I’d finished eating and had gone to lounge on your couch, you came over and whispered, “Meet me on the rooftop in a few minutes.”

I have to admit that my heart started beating faster when I heard your familiar footsteps on the creaky wood-and-iron staircase behind me. I waited with bated breath, not turning around, as you approached. The wind carried a slight tinge of your perfume under my nostrils.

Your arms slid around my waist from behind. I turned around to face you and rested my hands on your shoulders, as though we were about to dance again. “Hey there,” I said teasingly. “Took you awhile to come up here.”

“I had to make sure no one noticed me slip outside,” you explained, chuckling.

“Hmmm.” I studied your face thoughtfully. “And what did you want to meet me up here for that was so important, we had to sneak away from your house guests?”

You paused before pulling me closer. “This,” you said, and you leaned down and kissed me fervently.

Half an hour later, we were sitting on the couch in front of our friends, your arms around my shoulders as you shyly and hesitantly, but truthfully, told them how much you wanted to be with me.

True love snapshot #1

February 14, 1998

I was a high school freshman. I had been seeing this guy for a couple of months then. He was very sweet and romantic, not to mention good-looking and athletic. However, he and I had a major fight the week before Valentine's Day and were not on speaking terms, so I wasn't really expecting anything when Valentine's Day rolled around. If anything, I was quite melancholy that morning as I saw couples all over school exchanging flowers, chocolates and love notes.

I was sitting in math class shortly after lunch, bored to death as the teacher droned on about integers when someone knocked on the classroom door. A junior who was on the same basketball varsity team as my boyfriend poked his head in and asked if he could come in and deliver a "songgram" to Pauline.

My math teacher smilingly obliged. My entire math class went crazy, erupting in hoots and teasing. The junior, with four of his friends, entered the classroom carrying a guitar. One of my boyfriend's teammates handed me three red roses and a box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates with a letter rolled up into a scroll. I unrolled it, and it simply said, "I'm sorry and I love you."

My teacher, still smiling, ordered me to sit in front of the class so I could "enjoy the performance" more. I did, blushing like heck because the whole class was smilingly staring at me.

The junior began strumming his guitar and his group broke into the verse of "And I'll always love you." At that moment, my boyfriend entered the room, sat in the empty chair next to mine, and grinned at me. The class was hooting and shrieking so loudly I could barely hear the song. But I was already smiling from ear to ear.

Finally, as the song ended with the lines, "And if you ever change your mind, I'll still always love you..." he leaned over and whispered, "Hope you liked that, and in case you're wondering, I meant every word."

And after class, he and I went out for an early dinner at a diner close to school. The food was cheap, but I've never had a happier Valentine's Day since.

I still smile when I remember.

True love snapshots.

I had just finished re-reading the novel "The Five People You Meet In Heaven" by Mitch Albom. It mentioned "true love snapshots," which are picture-perfect memories of romantic incidents from a person's past that are more worth cherishing than most other memories.

I'm attempting to write a series of "true love snapshot" stories from my own past, which I will be posting over the next several days. I won't be mentioning real names though, in order to protect some people's identities. Hehe.

And yes, they are every bit as cheesy and mushy as they sound. =)

For just one moment.

*Written December 18, 1998

For just one moment, you were mine
As we both heard our hearts' true rhyme
As couples danced, as music played
As in your arms I slowly swayed.

For just one moment, you knew me
Though strangers we will always be
The past may never come again
But memories come now and then.

For just one moment, we were close
We once shared something, and it shows,
I see the past each time you smile,
And love stays for a little while.

For just one moment, I love you,
And yet perhaps I'll always do.
Your gentle touch, the words you say
They bring me back to yesterday.

For just one moment, as we dance
Caught up in this nostalgic trance
The song becomes a melody
We'll both recall eternally.

For just one moment that won't last,
We're both transported to the past.
Few precious minutes, love once more
Has found its way through our hearts' doors.

The hundredth time.

*written June 10, 1999

Once again I fall for you, the hundredth time around
For when love sings that sweet old tune, I can't ignore the sound.
So many times I've given up, yet now I'm here once more.
Knowing deep inside there's still the slimmest hope in store.

I try to make this dream come true the hundredth time or so,
For though I've tried so many times, I just can't let you go.
And even if the love was lost, seems like we're strangers now,
When you look in my eyes, I see there's still a chance somehow.

I'm bound for disappointment for the hundredth time perhaps,
But this heart you once solely owned is still caught in the trap,
The dream never came true, the story never found its end
I had so much to say but didn't know the words back then.

I'm reaching for the moon and stars the hundredth time, and know
That I should not keep false hopes and not let my feelings show
For if you aren't meant for me, then why force destiny?
I'm now prepared to face the worst, accept reality.

I'm waiting for you to return, the hundredth time, to me.
Bring back the love we once had that's now just a memory.
The twinkle in your eyes tells me you still recall sometimes,
For who knows? Maybe someday, you'll be with me for all time...

Nothing lasts forever.

*written January 26, 1999

Nothing lasts forever, that's what everyone told me.
But when I fell in love with him, the truth I failed to see.

Nothing lasts forever, there's an end to every dream,
And when I woke up things were not as bright as they once seemed.

Nothing lasts forever, even true love fades away.
For long before forever came, he didn't choose to stay.

Nothing lasts forever, though I always thought love would.
For I could never save it, though I tried the best I could.

Nothing lasts forever, though we wish and hope and try.
We fools and dreamers in the end are often those who cry.

Nothing lasts forever, every story has an end.
And endings always leave us wounds that take so long to mend.

Nothing lasts forever, we have learned this from the past.
For romance is just fleeting, and love seldom ever lasts...

Just A Dream.

written June 27, 1998

Just a dream, that's what you are
A faraway and distant star.
A heart that now I'll never own,
Because I once left you alone.

Just a dream, that's how you'll stay,
A vision I see everyday,
So many walls between us now
Because I never kept my vow.

Just a dream, beyond my reach
A little lesson life can teach
A memory burning in my heart
Because I chose to pull apart.

Just a dream, forever there
Who'll never know how much I care
A future I'll keep pining for
Because I once walked out the door.

Just a dream with priceless cost
A chance I had but never lost.
A love now owned by someone new,
Because I never saw it through.

Just a dream that's bound to last
A jewel carried from the past
A light, once bright, now growing dim,
Because I chose not you, but him.

You're just a dream that I love so
And yet perhaps you'll never know
Now I'm free to love you once more,
You don't love me anymore...

Mr. Evasive.

*written December 7, 2004

I try to look him in the eye, but he just looks away.

When I ask him what's on his mind, he rather would not say.

When feelings get the best of him, he keeps it all inside,

And when love stares him in the face, he'd run away and hide.

He dodges Cupid's arrows, and his heart is guarded well.

Jaded by the many times love hurt him when he fell.

Taken by a carefree life and blinded by his fear,

He doesn't know someone who cares is quietly waiting here.

I'll always be there for him, for in truth we are good friends

But sometimes I'm bewildered by the signals that he sends

Though he could choose to let me in or keep me in the dark,

To someone so evasive, I choose to give my heart...