Hot Pink Coconut

Eleven Months! (For Lack of Profound Words)

It’s been exactly eleven months since we got together. For some, staying that long in a relationship is a feat that can only be done a few times in their entire life. The same goes for me. I admit I am not one to enter into long term relationships, unless I am sure of the person I am with. I have been hurt enough times to distinguish when it is worth to hold on, or when it is time to let go.

My track record in relationships, I am aware, is not impressive. Back then, I made sure that I gave my best (if not everything), to a relationship or whoever I am with. It sounded perfect—but truth is, I did that more for myself than for who I am with. My reason? So that when I look back, I can say that I didn’t fail. But everything changed when I met you.

In my previous relationships, I was used to having things my way. I seldom compromised, much less settled. Like a kid wanting a forbidden candy bar, I throw tantrums when I don’t get what I want. I was a spoiled partner, but not in a good way. I thought love can be qualified, quantified, and measured in time units. I thought love was either happiness or pain. But now I know better.

I love you so much, hon. Like the two straight lines in the number 11, I know we’ll take on forever together. Cheesy, I know, but that’s what love is. With you, I am not afraid to look silly, not afraid to take chances, and definitely not afraid to try again.

Hon, I may have ran out of profound words and phrases to put in this entry, but you know how much you mean to me.

Happy 11th monthsary.