tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84346077666171602832012-02-16T15:01:45.022-08:00Sinnoreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8434607766617160283.post-60163241619123177132011-09-14T07:00:00.000-07:002011-09-14T07:00:51.368-07:00<br />Yes, she finally left. Yesterday.<br /><br />We had Chinese food for dinner the night before and we had what you might vaguely refer to as a Tsukimi... The mid-September &nbsp;moon, which Japanese consider as the most beautiful all year shone above us as we walked to EDSA to get her a bus to meet my boss. From an outsider's point of view, he may be called a rival but I know that he isn't as close to her heart as I am. He is her friend, or so she thinks, and I respect that. He wishes he were more than that but that's all there is for him, unfortunately.<br /><br />She kissed me goodbye before she got on the bus. Her kisses aren't the kisses I have tasted off my other's lips. Nor were they the kisses I have observed from TV and movies. They were different. Special. It was like she was sucking me in. And yes, I was sucked in. But her kisses were sweet and sensual. I felt like she needed me. I think that's what we are in relationships for. Or that's why we build relationships.<br /><br />I can't stop thinking about her and everything that went on between us. She was a distant dream that came true but never lost the 'dream-status.' Not like other dreams people achieve. Maybe it's because my attainment of the dream is as temporary as any dream. Not like other dreams that stop being a dream when they finally come true.<br /><br />This blog will be about her and my ponderings over the month without her by my side. I'm not moving. I'm just waiting.<br /><br />I love you.<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8434607766617160283-6016324161912317713?l=imnotmoving.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sinnoreply@blogger.com0