Beautiful

Today, I awoke all torn up inside. Having found something that came at the wrong time is a painful reality. An honest-to-goodness wrenching existence. But nonetheless, it was worth it. I fell, but, at least, this is love. Pure and Chaste. My December, therefore, will always be beautiful to me. I will not regret. That's all that matters now.

Well, my friend sent me something through text. It struck me because I would and will fight, but only if the other person fights for me, too.

"Love is a union of people oft separated by circumstance but joined by mutual experience and emotion.

Love is a union of people oft separated. On occasion, those two hands have to let go. There is nothing more painful than the separation of people who have found each other. It is hard enough to find anyone, to start with. In a world of seven billion humans connected by a maximum six degrees, singling out just one person to posses, and who can possess us, is quite a challenge, indeed. So when that elusive accident occurs at last, it is only natural that we hold it to our chest, clasp it tightly with two miserly hands, and hope that love remains within the radius of an extended arm.

The fortunate few who have found love know that this is worth fighting for. The continents are but shallow walls that can be scaled through perseverance, and months are slow steps which lead to the eventual reunion. The world is a smaller place for those in love. All problems will be solved, all doubts shall be assuaged, and all questions this mad world of infinite permutation can be satisfied by a single, simple answer. Love." - excerpts from a Philippine Daily Inquirer article