Remember Me, Alyss

2009-03-27T23:09:00.004+08:00

My Dearest Alyss,

'Happiness can never be bought'. That was what you taught me when both of us were adolescents. Yet, you knew far more than I did about everything. You could read my every emotion. You knew when to clam up, you knew when to lend a listening ear.. You knew everything.

When I first met you, I was a mere twelve-year-old. It was love at first sight. As I grew, I became more serious about you. I had imagined you and I standing below the arch decorated with white flowers, saying our vows and being eternally bonded by marriage. I never really thought it would come true in twenty years.

It was during our teenage years that the love bug bit us the hardest. We had our ups and downs, a game played by Cupid. We experienced break-ups and tried making each other jealous by making use of other people. How ashamed I was to make use of Nancy Gilderoy, but I wasn't ashamed long, I found out she was using me to make George Goldman jealous, and George Goldman was the knucklehead-jock you used to make me jealous! What a turn of events! I am very glad to know that Nancy and George are happily married till now.

We got married when we were twenty-eight. I remembered you couldn't wait to get married and also you were so nervous on that day, you tripped over your own wedding dress down the aisle. The whole church was in stitches.

We had Sean and Kevin, whom were both as rebellious but one-of-a-kind. We had so many problems with them. Sean was always getting in trouble with his teachers. He even had the guts to give Mr. Simonet a black-eye in the tenth grade. Thank God he grew to understand that giving teachers bruises doesn't get him anywhere. Kevin was influenced by his brother. He was always finding fault with his peers. It was hard to believe a thirteen-year-old Kevin beat up two fourteen-year-old boys. But it was also because we believed that he's having such a bright future in martial arts right now.

I believe we had something to do with their attitudes in the past. I think it was because I wasn't home much to help you with taking care of them. And I am very sorry for that, my dear. You were trying your best to keep us all together but all I did was make it harder for you by returning home just to nag at them. But you must admit you were spoiling them, Alyss. (I can practically see you protest.) We evantually managed to pull it together and bring up the family before it was much too late.

Being alive to see our boys grow up to be such fine men is a blessing. I shall always remember the times we spent together - on the beach, at the park and on the couch in front of the TV on Saturday nights. I shall remember them as long as I live and even after I'm dead.

Is it hard? Without me, I mean. Do the empty space beside you on our bed remind you of me constantly? Does my musty smell still linger on the pillow no matter how many times you wash the casing? Do you still keep my clothes and take them out to sniff at them at times? Do you miss me, my dear?

I hope you do. I want you to. It's not the most comforting to say but I do. I do want you to remember me. But I want you to only remember the good times - the happy memories - that we shared. The rest - forget about them. I want you to only remember my good points.

You were the one who kept me going after so many years. When I was at my death's bed, you were the one who stayed by my side twenty-four-seven. When I was trying to balance work and family and my sons were both against me, you had no complaints, you sticked to me. When everyone hated me, you held out your hand to me. I would never ever forget that moment you raised your hand out at me, offering a hand smaller than mine.

I love you, Alyss. And I want you to never forget that. Days spent with you were the happiest days of my life, I swear on that.

Love,
Jonathan

P.S. Don't forget me!

Get This Through....

2009-02-25T21:10:00.001+08:00

Hi. This is my blog. Well, yeah, duh, it is. I mean, this blog is for me, Shalyn, to write... like stories and such. Poems, haikus, stories... Aren't haikus a form of poem? Well, whatever. I just thought that it should be clear.

I got the idea from Renee. I thought, if Renee can make a blog to show people she's proud of her hidden talent, so can I. Well, I'm not sure whether this is a talent or not because, first of all, I'm not very good. So, I hope I can make use of this blog to practice my writing and stuff. Right, I hope ya'll will have the patience with me and my crabby writing. Hah, crabby. I'm A LAMEASS.

Yes, some times, you'll see random statements. Please excuse me.

The song from your heart sings out
Do you comprehend?
Do you understand?
There's no secret you can hide.

Pen The Thoughts Babe

Remember Me, Alyss

Get This Through....