A BOOK Of YOU.

The moment I learned to read a book and who knows when did that ever start, I was tangled within the pages of a whole new world, a place where I can be who I wanted to become; the prince who owned a castle so big, a beast who can devour cities and just destroy my enemies or a love story where I can always end it with me finding the one I dearly love.

“Books, a written or printed work of fiction or nonfiction, usually on sheets of paper fastened or bound together within covers.”

Since grade school there’d be only one place for me except the four corners of a shabby classroom where the better scene of knowledge is shared — the library was my haven. I’ll spare almost every time of my day to be in that worshiped place of knowing and learning. A place where all the adventures of my mind came to life, I found new friends and believed in fairy tales and romantic love songs.

I’ve abused that sacred place of learning for almost every time I satiate my hunger. To fill the coarse emptiness of my soul for more, to engage in so much exploits, my plead to every new stuff I have to accomplish and for all the good things that come by as I get on with study and self – satisfaction beyond the doubt of reality.

One thing though I never learned in books, may have read some about it and wondered how it felt, and that is how to live LIFE and just LOVE.

Books never taught me to know and lure myself to LOVE, to spread it, to fall upon its gripping end, to tell a story of how my LIFE unfolds in front of me. Still I came to realize I needed no book to understand LIFE and experience LOVE, they both happen. But this book isn’t about how my LIFE went on for it still is a road ahead of me… this is a book about all of us, about that part of us we have clearly enjoyed.

This book of LOVE,

Of YOU,

And of WE.

Fondly, making my way to every book store finding for the best book to read. At some stroll I’ll find some to pack up the gusto of my pride to read and explore lands of unknown.

But this time, I was not looking for a book of someone else’s pre-filled imagination. I want a book about you. Where I can read everything about what is there to be known, to know your name, who gave it to you, who your parents were, how wonderfully made you are for me, how can there be more of you for the both us… a book of you. And just to act foolish for this… this blog wouldn’t be such a big thing to do about if we didn’t really confess everything else. And you were right, why wait!?? Seriously, I was planning for a bigger boom!

All I have now are excerpts from that book I wish to read, a book I know that would mean a lot. My heart aches since that night we let out everything and never cared what the world may say or what our mind tells us. No more lesser than 48 hours and a lot of things just happened to try what would be a great ride and I can’t be more freaked out just to know you’re okay, if you’re doing good and just by far for every moment of your absence I’d think where have you gone, exactly. (My blog doesn’t make sense now! J )

Someday, I’ll have my time for that book to finally sit down with, stare at the sun as it sets and just hold your hand and know you’re there sharing it with me, waiting for the stars to witness just how heavenly it is to have you, to just feel you breathing on my chest as you lay on me, to warm you up with my bare arms, to make you feel how much I’ve longed for that one moment from the day we met.

A book of you. A book still having pages to fill with, hoping it’d be our story to share. A book I’d treasure dear. For I have never been this in love that sleeping was no better than waking up ‘coz when you’re in love, reality is indeed better than dreams.

For one thing is sure… I’d MARK that BOOK for YOU.