PAIN. It's been two years. Two hell of years trying to survive through this life without her. Its still as excrutiating as ever, making her eyes foggy and her throat tightens making it hard to breathe. She never intended to forget, yet she was ambivalent to have a flashback. People said she should cry, to ease the pain, but she knew better not to, for if she do she fear that she may forgot how to stop. "It feels like a never ending funeral" she said. Everything had been hurtful and even as two years had passed, it's like she can go back at that very moment, and find that nothing had ever change. The pain was still there, as it had been two years ago. Unchanging.
MEMORIES. When someone leaves, its the only thing left behind. The good old memories. Those that consist of the cozy nights in which they will talk about everything under the sun, share their dreams and hope that tomorrow will be better that today. She still hears her voice echoing in her head. She treasured that most especially. Its like she could give away anything at this very moment just to hear her voice calling her name again. Those edges of the house she doesn't want to change because it reminds her that once upon a time she had her youngest sister. The writings in that half filled notebook. The identification cards that portray how her sister had grown every school year. The empty bags. Even her favorite shirt, she kept them all. She make it sure that no matter what, those things wouldn't be taken away. Though the owner had gone to a far away place, everything should looked like she will be home at the end of the day.
TEARS. Those tiny water drops of humanity that came straight from a broken heart. Somehow, she owe them a lot. For when words fail, they were the only ones who can explain how painful things had been. She remembered how people listened to their story. One thing they wouldn't knew is that they really never understand. They don't know how it feels to be left behind. To moved on and be forced to continue living when all she ever wanted was to go back and prevent things from turning that way. That was it. Only tears can explain everything.
STRENGTH. People came during those dark days. Though they offer no comfort for her, they at least remind her that she should be strong. For her parents. For her other sister. She did. She had been a source of strength. But at the end of the day, no one had been strong for her. No ones there to tell her that its okay not to be okay. No one reminded her that she's made up of flesh and bone and that reason alone is enough to pour that aching heart aloud. Now, they keep on pursuing her to start a relationship with the opposite sex (two is better than one, they say), or at least try to have many friends (many is good) so she can start her life again. "They were wrong," she thought, "I pity them for asking me things I couldn't do". She was a survivor. "Why would I need anyone now?"
"She pulled her coat tighter about her and moved on down the street, peering into the curtain of snow ahead, as though she were trying to see into the future. But she was looking in the past, trying to understand when it was that all the laughter died."
-Sidney Sheldon, Rage of Angels (1980)
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Sunday, December 15, 2013
DIFFERENT, INDEED
I believe it when Albus Dumbledore said that "its the choices we make, Harry, that shows who we are, far more than our abilities."
Im at the stage of life when a person is given a chance to give everything in his capacity just so he can have his dreams come true. Those dreams that started on his childhood purified as he goes through life when he began to see the world more clearly. Cars. Houses. Money. Clothes. Gadgets. Fame. Fortune. Around the world in eighty days. Everything seems to be for them. All hardwork just to afford luxuries they couldn't have before. Eventually, those dreams will consist of forming a family. Meeting that prince or princess with the happily ever after. It seems to me like a cycle. A life set by the world's standards. A life I was forced to live.
I also dream dreams like that once, but as I learn to see the world at a different perspective, I know, deep in my being that I wanted more. I want to build a life people can live in. Maybe that explains my refusal to live my life on the standard. I dream of having a profession in which I can teach people to see themselves as someone special, special in a way God sees them. I want people around me to dream dreams not based on how big your house is but dreams that will let you live forever. I, who believe that I was place on earth at this very time and place to make a difference, always wants more. I want something that will shame those people who thinks they can buy my life with their golds.
For now, I plan to help my family and my fellow homo sapiens using the profession I invested my four years on. And when the courage inside of me burn intensely, consuming me inside and out, I will run. Run the race I always wanted to win from.
Im at the stage of life when a person is given a chance to give everything in his capacity just so he can have his dreams come true. Those dreams that started on his childhood purified as he goes through life when he began to see the world more clearly. Cars. Houses. Money. Clothes. Gadgets. Fame. Fortune. Around the world in eighty days. Everything seems to be for them. All hardwork just to afford luxuries they couldn't have before. Eventually, those dreams will consist of forming a family. Meeting that prince or princess with the happily ever after. It seems to me like a cycle. A life set by the world's standards. A life I was forced to live.
I also dream dreams like that once, but as I learn to see the world at a different perspective, I know, deep in my being that I wanted more. I want to build a life people can live in. Maybe that explains my refusal to live my life on the standard. I dream of having a profession in which I can teach people to see themselves as someone special, special in a way God sees them. I want people around me to dream dreams not based on how big your house is but dreams that will let you live forever. I, who believe that I was place on earth at this very time and place to make a difference, always wants more. I want something that will shame those people who thinks they can buy my life with their golds.
For now, I plan to help my family and my fellow homo sapiens using the profession I invested my four years on. And when the courage inside of me burn intensely, consuming me inside and out, I will run. Run the race I always wanted to win from.
BROKEN WORLD
Here I am again, finding myself in a place I always try to run from.
I feel lonely. Its the kind of loneliness when you want to go anywhere other than your bedroom. Somewhere far. Close to nature. A place where the cold wind could blow your hair behind and yet you won't mind.
:) :) :) :(
Long ago, I have learned that being lonely is inherent in humans. Its a reminder for us that we are still living in a fallen, broken world. And no matter how happy one's life would be, there will be those certain times when one will feel sad, and alone and forgotten, and for..... *sigh*
We introverts feel more lonely than anyone. That's what extroverts don't understand from us. We have a very huge capacity to feel. To think things. To remember. And yes, I don't know how could that be. All I want now is to talk to someone. Someone as normal as I am. Someone who wouldn't judge me for feeling this way. The problem is, I always find myself too dumb for words.
I should have called this post insanity.
Don't worry, I'll recover. Just give me five minutes.
I feel lonely. Its the kind of loneliness when you want to go anywhere other than your bedroom. Somewhere far. Close to nature. A place where the cold wind could blow your hair behind and yet you won't mind.
:) :) :) :(
Long ago, I have learned that being lonely is inherent in humans. Its a reminder for us that we are still living in a fallen, broken world. And no matter how happy one's life would be, there will be those certain times when one will feel sad, and alone and forgotten, and for..... *sigh*
We introverts feel more lonely than anyone. That's what extroverts don't understand from us. We have a very huge capacity to feel. To think things. To remember. And yes, I don't know how could that be. All I want now is to talk to someone. Someone as normal as I am. Someone who wouldn't judge me for feeling this way. The problem is, I always find myself too dumb for words.
I should have called this post insanity.
Don't worry, I'll recover. Just give me five minutes.
MISSING SOMETHING
I am having separation anxiety for three days now. Its weird. Im old enough to experience such and yet my mind keeps playing things Im supposed to have forgotten already. I was thinking that the reason for this is that unconciously, I am missing the busy world Im into for the last two months. The workaholics. The night life. The noisy jeepneys and even the anxious piles of people who keeps looking at their wrist-watches and patiently waiting for any kind of transportation that will bring them home. I am probably missing the examinations--those nasty bunch of papers that challenges me and the hundreds of topics and concepts I need to put up in my brain storage in a matter of hours. Or maybe its the classroom where I'd been to, filled with bunch of strangers that have their own stories to tell. Yes, I am having a separation anxiety and I find it very amusing.
Amusing in a sense that I realizes my new capacity of wanting to be in a crowd. Its an emotion I knew I don't have. Why would I? Im an introvert who always seeks my ME-time. But a thought suddenly occurs into me, maybe all these weird stuff is not because of the reasons I've mentioned. Its clear to me now. Its the time of the year I hated most. The wind blows colder and the night, longer than daylight. This is the time of the year when I cannot escape the fact that happened two years ago. When that days come, I have to remember things again and worse I may find myself in that very day, two years ago and feel the feelings I try to forget in so many ways. No matter what, I know I must begin to slip into stoicism. I cannot allow memories to surface, for when it does I fear that I may never know how to stop.
Amusing in a sense that I realizes my new capacity of wanting to be in a crowd. Its an emotion I knew I don't have. Why would I? Im an introvert who always seeks my ME-time. But a thought suddenly occurs into me, maybe all these weird stuff is not because of the reasons I've mentioned. Its clear to me now. Its the time of the year I hated most. The wind blows colder and the night, longer than daylight. This is the time of the year when I cannot escape the fact that happened two years ago. When that days come, I have to remember things again and worse I may find myself in that very day, two years ago and feel the feelings I try to forget in so many ways. No matter what, I know I must begin to slip into stoicism. I cannot allow memories to surface, for when it does I fear that I may never know how to stop.
Monday, December 9, 2013
THE ONE WHO STAYED
This is my favorite story of all. I probably read it hundred times over. Allow me to share this with you, hoping that your heart will find its way home.
COME HOME
The practice of using earthly happenings to clarify heavenly truths is no easy task. yet, occasionally, one comes across a story, legend, or fable that conveys a message as accurately as a hundred sermons and with ten times the creativity. Such is the case with the reading below. I heard it first told by a Brazillian preacher in Sao Paulo. And though I've shared it countless times, with each telling I am newly warmed and reassured by its message.
The small house was simple but adequate. It consisted of one large room on a dusty street. Its red-tiled roof was one of many in this poor neighborhood on the outskirts of the Brazillian village. It was a comfortable home. Maria and her daughter, Christina, had done what they could do to add color to the gray walls and warmth to the hard dirt floor: an old calendar, a faded photograph of a relative, a wooden crucifix. The furnishings were modest: a pallet on either side of the room, a washbbasin and a wood-burning stove.
Maria's husband had died when Cristina was an infant. The young mother, stubbornly refusing opportunities to remarry, got a job and set out to raise her young daughter. And now, fifteen years later, the worst years were over. Though Maria's salary as a maid afforded few luxuries, it was reliable and it did provide food and clothes. And now Christina was old enough to get a job to help out.
Some said Christina got her independence from her mother. She reoiled at the traditional idea of marrying young and raising a family. Not that she couldn't have had her pick of husbands. Her olive skinand brown eyes kept a steady stream of prospects at her door. She had an infectious way of throwing her head back and fulfilling the room with laughter. She also had that rare magic some women have that makes every man feel like a king just by being near them. But it was her spirited curiosity that made her keep all the men at arm's length.
She spoke often of going to the city. She dreamed of trading her dusty neighborhood for exciting avenues and city life. Just the thought of this horrified her mother. Maria was always quick to remind Christina of the harshness of the streets. "People don't know you there. Jobs are scarce and the life is cruel. And besides, if you went there, what would you do for a living?"
Maria knew exactly what Christina would do, or would have to do for a living. That's why her heart broke when she awoke one morning to find her daughter's bed empty. She also knew immediately where her daughter had gonee. She quickly threw some clothes in a bag, gathered up all her money, and ran out of the house.
On her way to the bus stop she entered a drugstore to get one last thing. Pictures. She sat in the photograph booth, closed the curtain and spent all she could on pictures of herself. With her purse full of small black-and-white photos, she boarded the next bus to Rio de Janeiro.
Maria knew Christina had no way of earning money. She also knew that her daughter was too stubborn to give up. When pride meets hunger, a human will do things that were before unthinkable. Knowing this, Maria began her search. Bars, hotels, nightclubs, any place with the reputation for street walkers or prostitutes. She went to them all. And at each place she left her picture---taped on a bathroom mirror, tacked to a hotel bulletin board, fastened to a corner phone booth. And on the back of each photo she wrote a note.
It wasn't too long before both the money and the pictures ran out, and Maria had to go home. The weary mother wept as the bus began its long journey back to her small village.
It was few weeks later that young Christina descended the hotel stairs. Her face was tired. Her brown eyes no longer danced with youth but spoke of pain and fear. Her laughter was broken. Her dream had become a nightmare. A thousand times over she had longed to trade these countless beds for her secure pallet. Yet the little village was, in too many ways, too far away.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, her eyes noticed a familiar face. She looked again, and there on the lobby mirror was a small picture of her mother. Christina's eyes burned and her throat tightened as she walked across the room and removed the small photo. Written on the back was this compelling invitation. "Whatever you have done, whatever you have become, it doesn't matter. Please come home."
She did.
"The Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of His being..."
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give rest."
I did come home. I hope you will.
-No Wonder They Call Him the Savior, Max Lucado,pg.137.
COME HOME
The practice of using earthly happenings to clarify heavenly truths is no easy task. yet, occasionally, one comes across a story, legend, or fable that conveys a message as accurately as a hundred sermons and with ten times the creativity. Such is the case with the reading below. I heard it first told by a Brazillian preacher in Sao Paulo. And though I've shared it countless times, with each telling I am newly warmed and reassured by its message.
The small house was simple but adequate. It consisted of one large room on a dusty street. Its red-tiled roof was one of many in this poor neighborhood on the outskirts of the Brazillian village. It was a comfortable home. Maria and her daughter, Christina, had done what they could do to add color to the gray walls and warmth to the hard dirt floor: an old calendar, a faded photograph of a relative, a wooden crucifix. The furnishings were modest: a pallet on either side of the room, a washbbasin and a wood-burning stove.
Maria's husband had died when Cristina was an infant. The young mother, stubbornly refusing opportunities to remarry, got a job and set out to raise her young daughter. And now, fifteen years later, the worst years were over. Though Maria's salary as a maid afforded few luxuries, it was reliable and it did provide food and clothes. And now Christina was old enough to get a job to help out.
Some said Christina got her independence from her mother. She reoiled at the traditional idea of marrying young and raising a family. Not that she couldn't have had her pick of husbands. Her olive skinand brown eyes kept a steady stream of prospects at her door. She had an infectious way of throwing her head back and fulfilling the room with laughter. She also had that rare magic some women have that makes every man feel like a king just by being near them. But it was her spirited curiosity that made her keep all the men at arm's length.
She spoke often of going to the city. She dreamed of trading her dusty neighborhood for exciting avenues and city life. Just the thought of this horrified her mother. Maria was always quick to remind Christina of the harshness of the streets. "People don't know you there. Jobs are scarce and the life is cruel. And besides, if you went there, what would you do for a living?"
Maria knew exactly what Christina would do, or would have to do for a living. That's why her heart broke when she awoke one morning to find her daughter's bed empty. She also knew immediately where her daughter had gonee. She quickly threw some clothes in a bag, gathered up all her money, and ran out of the house.
On her way to the bus stop she entered a drugstore to get one last thing. Pictures. She sat in the photograph booth, closed the curtain and spent all she could on pictures of herself. With her purse full of small black-and-white photos, she boarded the next bus to Rio de Janeiro.
Maria knew Christina had no way of earning money. She also knew that her daughter was too stubborn to give up. When pride meets hunger, a human will do things that were before unthinkable. Knowing this, Maria began her search. Bars, hotels, nightclubs, any place with the reputation for street walkers or prostitutes. She went to them all. And at each place she left her picture---taped on a bathroom mirror, tacked to a hotel bulletin board, fastened to a corner phone booth. And on the back of each photo she wrote a note.
It wasn't too long before both the money and the pictures ran out, and Maria had to go home. The weary mother wept as the bus began its long journey back to her small village.
It was few weeks later that young Christina descended the hotel stairs. Her face was tired. Her brown eyes no longer danced with youth but spoke of pain and fear. Her laughter was broken. Her dream had become a nightmare. A thousand times over she had longed to trade these countless beds for her secure pallet. Yet the little village was, in too many ways, too far away.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, her eyes noticed a familiar face. She looked again, and there on the lobby mirror was a small picture of her mother. Christina's eyes burned and her throat tightened as she walked across the room and removed the small photo. Written on the back was this compelling invitation. "Whatever you have done, whatever you have become, it doesn't matter. Please come home."
She did.
"The Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of His being..."
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give rest."
I did come home. I hope you will.
-No Wonder They Call Him the Savior, Max Lucado,pg.137.
IN UTTER SILENCE
It's been two months. Two long months with nights and days that seem to stretch up to infinity. This has been the times when you find yourself waking up at three in the morning and retiring at almost twelve midnight. The hours in between were spent studying piles of topics where at the end of the day you literally look like a walking nursing book--boring. I never thought that the preparation could be this cruel. I took up Bachelor of Science in Nursing for four consecutive years and enrolled in a review center for almost three months in preparation for the two days board examination. Pathetic. I remember hating the process once. That bastard piece of plastic card you need so you can have the right to practice a profession that defines how great you are by the suffixes attach at the end of your name. Isn't my pure intention of helping mankind not enough? *wink*. Eventually, I learned to accept the process and if I ever got the chance to change it I probably wouldn't.
The two months had been a roller coaster ride. I feel frustrated and tired most of the time but then the result in the end deeply fascinated me I want to see its manifestation. I never give up. I surpasses even my own limitation and I focus on the glorious finish line.
I am blessed by the way, because Im not alone through this. I have GOD beside me. He was the mind and heart, I was just the body. The sanctuary in which I find inner peace in the midst of that crippling fear that always whispers "what if you couldn't". No matter what lies ahead I can say that everything is for His eternal glory. This is my offering for the One who broke the strongest part of my being so I can realize that of the two of us He is the strongest. I've been broken by Him, but in Him I find myself.
Hey, I had given up all that I am. And baby, in my own little way, I know, I already win.
The two months had been a roller coaster ride. I feel frustrated and tired most of the time but then the result in the end deeply fascinated me I want to see its manifestation. I never give up. I surpasses even my own limitation and I focus on the glorious finish line.
I am blessed by the way, because Im not alone through this. I have GOD beside me. He was the mind and heart, I was just the body. The sanctuary in which I find inner peace in the midst of that crippling fear that always whispers "what if you couldn't". No matter what lies ahead I can say that everything is for His eternal glory. This is my offering for the One who broke the strongest part of my being so I can realize that of the two of us He is the strongest. I've been broken by Him, but in Him I find myself.
Hey, I had given up all that I am. And baby, in my own little way, I know, I already win.
KEEP IT ON SEVEN
SEVEN ARE YOU
1. Are you happy? - Hell, Yes. Absolutely.
2. Are you bored? - A lot of times. Mediocre minded people bored me.
3. Are you intelligent? - They say so.
4. Are you dumb? - Is something wrong with that?
5. Are you honest? - I always try to.
6. Are you nice? - Sometimes.
7. Are you single? - YES!
SEVEN FACTS
1. State your name - Allyssa Joy Satin Gaspar
2. Birthplace - Manila, Philippines
3. Skin Color - Im Asian. We consider my skin color "morena".
4. Address - District 12, Panem
5. Birthday - July 22, 1992
6. Color - Pink, of course.
7. Place you want to be - Place where she is.
SEVEN QUESTIONS ABOUT LOVE
1. Are you inlove right now? - Yes. I love so many things.
2. Have you ever been inlove? - Of course. Unfortunately, it's been one sided.
3. Who's your crush at this very moment? - Hmm, Joseph Morgan.
4. Have you been hurt before? - Pain is the fifth vital sign.
5. Are you afraid of getting hurt? - Probably.
6. Why is it so hard for you to fall inlove? - Maybe because a lot of the guys I'd been attracted to doesn't even know the definition of astrobiology.
7. Do you want to get married someday? - Probably.
SEVEN "OR"
1. One night stand or happily ever after? - Depends on the mood.
2. Blueberry or mapple syrup - Mapple syrup for that pancakes baby!!
3. Book or Facebook - A good book a day keeps the introvert away.
4. Nocturnal or diurnal - Nocturnal.
5. Money or happiness - Love.
6. Beauty or brain - It should be "and".
7. Fortune or Fame - Fame.
SEVEN HAVE YOU EVER
1. Seen a naked man - I do wish I had.
2. Done something you regret - I am what I am now because of my mistakes.
3. Been embarassed - YES! many times and still counting.
4. Cried because no one seems to stay - Yes. Fortunately, I moved on.
5. Finish an apple - No more than 5 minutes.
6. Been caught grinning on public - Haha! Pathetic.
7. Feel weird - Hmm, almost all of my waking time.
SEVEN HAVE YOU
1. Ever talked in front of a crowd - That's my training area.
2. Been in a place you don't want - A lot of times. We all had been in place we don't want to, but having no choice...
3. Ever been in a mayhem - Yes.
4. Enjoyed ice skating - My butt gets wet all the time.
5. Ever been on a blind date - Once.
6. Attended musical show - How I wish I could.
7. Seen a ghost - Ghost of my past, if that's the essence of your miserable question.
SEVEN IF YOU
1. Were given a chance to talk to two people, who were they - My sister, and Sigmund Freud.
2. Had a boyfriend, what will you call him - Bro.
3. Had the magic lamp - I will bring my sister back.
4. Will kiss someone - Ugghh! I would like to spend a night with Joseph Morgan.
5. Had a book right now - I will stop this nonsensical article and read.
6. Will go to a place, where will it be - Where my sister is.
7. Had a chance to turn back time - Then, I will bring those good old days back and be in it forever.
SEVEN RANDOM FACTS
1. Im bored. Please have something to entertain me.
2. I regret posting this. And maybe you regret reading this. But I wouldn't regret answering on this.
3. I don't mind though. It pays off to accomplish things out-of-the-blue.
4. I just love going to bookstores. I hope I get a gift certificate worth PhP10,000 for spending 15 hours a month in a local bookstore.
5. Will you stop judging me? Im not a book.
6. You probably know me more than anyone ever realizes.
7. I wouldn't give you more than you had.
1. Are you happy? - Hell, Yes. Absolutely.
2. Are you bored? - A lot of times. Mediocre minded people bored me.
3. Are you intelligent? - They say so.
4. Are you dumb? - Is something wrong with that?
5. Are you honest? - I always try to.
6. Are you nice? - Sometimes.
7. Are you single? - YES!
SEVEN FACTS
1. State your name - Allyssa Joy Satin Gaspar
2. Birthplace - Manila, Philippines
3. Skin Color - Im Asian. We consider my skin color "morena".
4. Address - District 12, Panem
5. Birthday - July 22, 1992
6. Color - Pink, of course.
7. Place you want to be - Place where she is.
SEVEN QUESTIONS ABOUT LOVE
1. Are you inlove right now? - Yes. I love so many things.
2. Have you ever been inlove? - Of course. Unfortunately, it's been one sided.
3. Who's your crush at this very moment? - Hmm, Joseph Morgan.
4. Have you been hurt before? - Pain is the fifth vital sign.
5. Are you afraid of getting hurt? - Probably.
6. Why is it so hard for you to fall inlove? - Maybe because a lot of the guys I'd been attracted to doesn't even know the definition of astrobiology.
7. Do you want to get married someday? - Probably.
SEVEN "OR"
1. One night stand or happily ever after? - Depends on the mood.
2. Blueberry or mapple syrup - Mapple syrup for that pancakes baby!!
3. Book or Facebook - A good book a day keeps the introvert away.
4. Nocturnal or diurnal - Nocturnal.
5. Money or happiness - Love.
6. Beauty or brain - It should be "and".
7. Fortune or Fame - Fame.
SEVEN HAVE YOU EVER
1. Seen a naked man - I do wish I had.
2. Done something you regret - I am what I am now because of my mistakes.
3. Been embarassed - YES! many times and still counting.
4. Cried because no one seems to stay - Yes. Fortunately, I moved on.
5. Finish an apple - No more than 5 minutes.
6. Been caught grinning on public - Haha! Pathetic.
7. Feel weird - Hmm, almost all of my waking time.
SEVEN HAVE YOU
1. Ever talked in front of a crowd - That's my training area.
2. Been in a place you don't want - A lot of times. We all had been in place we don't want to, but having no choice...
3. Ever been in a mayhem - Yes.
4. Enjoyed ice skating - My butt gets wet all the time.
5. Ever been on a blind date - Once.
6. Attended musical show - How I wish I could.
7. Seen a ghost - Ghost of my past, if that's the essence of your miserable question.
SEVEN IF YOU
1. Were given a chance to talk to two people, who were they - My sister, and Sigmund Freud.
2. Had a boyfriend, what will you call him - Bro.
3. Had the magic lamp - I will bring my sister back.
4. Will kiss someone - Ugghh! I would like to spend a night with Joseph Morgan.
5. Had a book right now - I will stop this nonsensical article and read.
6. Will go to a place, where will it be - Where my sister is.
7. Had a chance to turn back time - Then, I will bring those good old days back and be in it forever.
SEVEN RANDOM FACTS
1. Im bored. Please have something to entertain me.
2. I regret posting this. And maybe you regret reading this. But I wouldn't regret answering on this.
3. I don't mind though. It pays off to accomplish things out-of-the-blue.
4. I just love going to bookstores. I hope I get a gift certificate worth PhP10,000 for spending 15 hours a month in a local bookstore.
5. Will you stop judging me? Im not a book.
6. You probably know me more than anyone ever realizes.
7. I wouldn't give you more than you had.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)