First Love

Dear Mentor,

     Everyone has his first love.  Even the dullest or the ugliest individual may have the most fascinating or award-winning “first-love story.”  I, too, have my own story.

      It happened well to be exact, fourteen  (14) long years ago.  It may not be as exciting or as thrilling as others would have experienced it, but at least I have one to call my own.

      The memories came back to me like morning dews that freshen up a new day.  Yes, I saw the picture of him wearing the same smiles, the same spirited him I knew fourteen years ago.  Those same smiles caught me when I was still so young and so fragile…and it has still the same imprint in my memory…in my heart…

       I kid the feeling.  Not anyone knew this story.  For so long I kept the feeling I felt for him before, until now that I see again his face, unchanged…unaltered with the passing of time.  At least I can say at least I can carry a secret to the grave, but I think not this one, and yet still he never knew about it, and still does not know it.

     It took me fourteen years to write about it or even talk about it…and smile about it.  At least by now, after coming to age and realizing the impact it had on me through years, I can say it made my miserable life a little easy to live.

     I hope I have the chance to say it to him, tell the story, thank him for the inspiration for his smiles.  I have not founf someone smile as soulfully as he does, and for ten long years that I have not seen him, I hope I can meet him again and smile at him, for him to smile back at me the way it used to be. I am wishing again!

     At least for now, I am happy with the revelation – a secret worth revealinghas come out in the open…I hope it would reach him.  How?  I leave it to destiny or technology.  How will he react, I do not know.  What I can only hope for is that when he knows about it, he would still smile as soulfully as he usually does.

     That is a story worth telling. – If it is not, would it last that long?

 

Enchantress

 

From Where?

Dear Mentor,

 

 From where shall I -

     look for the pieces of me

Broken fragments left

     from your forgotten promises?

 

You left in whole

     and left me empty

The gusto of wind

     have shattered the pieces of me.

 

From where, I do not know.

     Will I seek the bits?

To pick little by little

     in my moments of loneliness

 

Will forever be enough

     to suffer this thirst

Quench this at once, I beg

     Destiny!   Return that which is lost.

 

I pray not to the moon

     for her to give back

the promises left unfulfilled

     to gather myself anew.

 

I shall search everywhere,

     To complete this broken self

I sahll start now, but

     From where, I know not.

Nothing to Hope For

Dear Mentor,

     Why do I continue purging myself and hoping.  I get what I consider my everything when afterall, there is nothing to hope for.