A Book For the One He Loves

Sorry I had to take down all the posts. 

This is a public blog, and it will soon change tone. :)

I found my copy of the book I wrote for the person I truly loved, and until now, love with all my heart. I remember asking her how she wants the book to be, and she had some pegs. Forgive me, I'm not really a professional writer. But I wrote her a 550-page story about a couple, Fae and Vincent, and it was much, much appreciated. 

I never knew that some chapters would be relevant to me today. You might not know the story, but here are some relevant chapters (2 chapters) that sort of captures what I feel. 

CHAPTER 47: BY THE PORT

Our first evening back in Stanford was spent on the bridge by the port at Saint Hildegarde. With air moist by the salty molecules from the crashing waves of the sea, the sky dark and ornamented with a stellar performance of ghastly circles twinkling from beyond the atmosphere, and with the unusual humming of Stanford night silence, Vincent and I wrapped each other with our arms. We were so connected that our deep breaths seem to have created a rhythmic flow, our souls communicating in vast widespread corners of our own little world.

Somehow, I tried to cover up all the worries with the increasing amount of happiness that I felt in lavishing the moment with love and passion; with peace and unequivocal absence of worries; with transparent serenity and optimism.

The moonlight shun the darkness that surrounded both of us. Above anything else, I knew I had the best life has to offer... It's cheating death twice and resolving the bitter fate that seemed to be so surreal and unfair. It's being with someone like Vincent who was willing to delve deeper into this world of ours, world he really did not have to know. He stood by me against many other stuff. He loved me despite the fact that I was unfit for him (or it was the other way around). Like the light of the moon, Vincent was shining the pathway of my life. Somehow, I've garnered clarity and purpose.  Somehow, I knew where to go and what to do in this life.

I breathed in.

He breathed in shortly.

We both exhaled simultaneously, letting go of every inhibitions.

"I love you Fae..."

"I love you too, Vincent."

"It's been one hell of a ride, my love... good thing you were there."

"I was there to make it even more tough..."

"No, you were there to supply me life."

"Vincent, I'm sorry I got you into this." I leaned on him.

"It's okay, and don't feel sorry about it." He brushed my head with his cheeks. "I know it was my idea too."

"Will you ever get tired, Vincent?"

"Doing what?"

"Doing all of it... and being my spring."

"I guess we have not begun. I have nothing to judge..."

"So you think you will? You know, give up in time?"

He giggled softly. "Baby, I will never give you up."

"No matter what?"

'Well, I have some reservations... You know... If I have to leave or hide in order for you to be safe, I guess I'll do it... all for love."

I suppose I did not appreciate those last words... I reacted with a smirk, then I sort of shook my head from left to right in disagreement.

"Do you think we'll reach that point? I mean, you and me sacrificing more than what we had already given up?"

"We'll see... But take this, I will never EVER take away these words... I LOVE YOU, Fae, and I WILL ALWAYS WILL."

Vincent drew his lips closer to mine, and moments after, I felt his damped soft lips touch my own, first plain and gently, and then it soon hovered to a deeper, more intimate kiss. We literally kissed the night away, warming ourselves with passion as the night unravelled itself boldly upon us. Vincent touched my face and so did I touched his, and together we both savored the flavor of love which we both have missed since we embarked ourselves into the near-death trial at Thynghowe. 

BOOK 1, Chapter 23:

And then it happened. Right in front of Vincent, the wound on my left hand began to open. It was nothing like the wound on my right—it was a dozen times more painful, in fact it was excruciating my whole body. I screeched in strong and numbing pain, and I saw Vincent worrying too much… It was time… My love for him has triggered the count… I am, at this point, indeed fated to die.

“Fae… please, can I do something?” Vincent pleaded, crying.

“Vincent… I… I love you… but you must… go now… We can never be together… Never…” I said, cringing myself to a curl as the pain severely affects my hand.

Vincent stood up, slowly, almost too hesitant. He took steps backward, one step at a time, and he was crying in grieving expression. He kept on saying I’m sorry, and I kept on telling him to go away… And Vincent soon stopped, maintaining a distance between us.

“I… I’m sorry Fae, know that I will always… always love you… forever…” Vincent said, pretending to be strong as he moves away, seeing me in my weakest situation in life.

“I will, too, in my remaining days…” I said, as I stood up… the wound has finished torturing me—finally, I had another open wound. It was the last moment that I will be seeing Vince face to face, but the distance between us seemed to be more than it was.

“I hope you live… Please… do something about it.” He said.

“I will try to…” I answered, weeping.

“I… love you… and please… don’t love me back.” Vincent wept as he said the words. He placed his hands to cover his mouth, only putting it away and sending me a sorrowful kiss. I watched him ever so closely, as he turned his back, a she took his first step facing the opposite direction, and as he moved away, little by little, vanishing in the slowest succession.

I soon looked back to the sea and catched the sun as it bid farewell.  It sank down deep, interposing my grief with its own narration of the day’s end… More than the end of my life, I cry at the end of the love that I have dreamt of, wished for, and worked hard for… I cry at the recurring image of Vincent moving away, knowing that he wanted to do something but he cannot. It was the lullaby of a goodbye. It was a modern myth—and the myth has been busted.