After a series of true love or so I thought, here I am, self-confessed emotionally unavailable twenty-two year old woman but I do have one secret. I'm waiting, and this time, I'm really waiting for the guy for me. That one guy who would really sweep me off my feet, not that I'm gonna do all the sweeping again, but literally put me on my toes. I've been watching and reading all these guys who are so ideal but not so apparent in real life, but I remain optimistic that I will find him, one day, in a time where I am most unprepared, and this joy that I would feel will feel like fleeting.
I used to imagine that my true love is some mix of the characters in the book that I read. Some guy who'd look good in a suit, or cook me dinner, would listen to me talk about the fictional characters I'm crushing on, one who'd buy me ice cream when I'm depressed, one who will dance crazy with me, or go on a trip to somewhere unknown.
My true love will be as crazy as I am, and he will love the world as much as I do. He loves the sun and my tan lines. He'd kiss my stretch marks and tell me I did not really gain weight. He would be the person whom I can tell my insecurities because I had lots of them, and no one had ever known.
One day, he will be there. And one day, I will write him letters and poems, and maybe even songs. We'd talk about classic books and he'd tell me I look good on just white oversized shirt and an underwear, and he'd tell me that I'm the most beautiful crazy eccentric being he has ever seen.
I am hoping, and waiting for him. My salvation, my happiness, my sun and my sea.
After a series of true love or so I thought, here I am, self-confessed emotionally unavailable twenty-two year old woman but I do have one secret. I'm waiting, and this time, I'm really waiting for the guy for me. That one guy who would really sweep me off my feet, not that I'm gonna do all the sweeping again, but literally put me on my toes. I've been watching and reading all these guys who are so ideal but not so apparent in real life, but I remain optimistic that I will find him, one day, in a time where I am most unprepared, and this joy that I would feel will feel like fleeting.
I used to imagine that my true love is some mix of the characters in the book that I read. Some guy who'd look good in a suit, or cook me dinner, would listen to me talk about the fictional characters I'm crushing on, one who'd buy me ice cream when I'm depressed, one who will dance crazy with me, or go on a trip to somewhere unknown.
My true love will be as crazy as I am, and he will love the world as much as I do. He loves the sun and my tan lines. He'd kiss my stretch marks and tell me I did not really gain weight. He would be the person whom I can tell my insecurities because I had lots of them, and no one had ever known.
One day, he will be there. And one day, I will write him letters and poems, and maybe even songs. We'd talk about classic books and he'd tell me I look good on just white oversized shirt and an underwear, and he'd tell me that I'm the most beautiful crazy eccentric being he has ever seen.
I am hoping, and waiting for him. My salvation, my happiness, my sun and my sea.
I'm Gixx. I started this blog two years ago when I tried to go about my insanity through documenting my musings in the night. I am now 21, graduate, again studying in law school, and I am still floating and fleeting from my existence and unconventional personality and way of living.
I maintain at least five websites but this is where I write about anything random. I read a lot of books. I love travel and I'm a sucker for zeal and wisdom.
I like to take risks. And that's where I learn. Then I write.
This blog space is owned, managed and updated by MARIA GICEL T CAMBRI. Unless with prior permission, no portion of the contents may be directly or indirectly copied, published, reproduced, modified, displayed, sold, transmitted, published or redistributed in any medium. I mean it.
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