Just call me Saffron, will you?

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Wednesday, November 17, 2004

You, I Love

You, I love.

I love you, the one who sent me the SMS telling me that I've got a lot more in me than what that scum says about me. You, who took me out for Frappucinos at Starbucks just so I wouldn't sit alone at home and wallow in self-pity. You, who spent hours on the phone with me crying on one end, and you, listening patiently on the other end. You, who wouldn't hesitate to brave the traffic jam at any hour on a rescue mission. You, the only person who gave me a therapy bag with vanilla scented candles.

Then there's you, I love. You, who called me to have a real conversation that lasted an hour. You, who didn't even know me well. You, who just wanted to make sure I'm alright, you, who gave me words of encouragement, and you who, despite the short time knowing me, told me things about myself I'd never noticed.

Also, there is you, I love. Strong, silent, always there for me, a person of few words. You, whose words of advice always seemed sensible to me. You, who made me never feel unworthy of myself.

You, I love, for all the times when you could sense my unhappiness. You, who would call me out of the blue and say things that will pull me right back up to my feet. You, who always seemed to put me on a higher pedestal, you, who worshipped me for all that I am even when I feel like I was worth less than scum.

And then there is you whom I love for the years of friendship we had and for all those times we never saw eye to eye but have things work out in the end. You, who always had a fascination for what I do, what I am, and you who believed in me simply because I'm me.

I love you, for all the times I thought you never understood me, but seemed to have a radar to detect my unhappiness. You, who is the closest a person can ever be to me, yet be so distant and unforgiving at times. You, who will always be the first to catch me even before I fall.

You, I love, despite the trying times you were going through, the turmoil that rages inside, who still sent me messages to tell me what a great person I am, and that I deserved more. You, who said to me that you're sure God wants better for me.

I also love you, who, despite our age differences and maturity levels, could still put yourself in my shoes for that one second to understand the emotional hell I was going through. You, who made me smile with one SMS that says there would be plenty of guys who'd love to date me.

I love you, the one who insisted on talking to me on the phone through my torrent of tears and incoherent speech. And you, who spent hours trying to make me smile despite your own exhaustion and stress from a day at work. You, who thought nothing of wanting to drive right up to my doorstep just to make sure I'm alright, and you, who tactfully avoided all things that made me unhappy during our conversations.

All of you, I love.


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