“Gusto mong strawberry?”
I picked one. And for the sake of knowing the taste, I ate it. And I didn’t like it. From then on, I never liked it. I never get interested in anything that’s strawberry, may it be a flavor, a scent or whatever.
That. Was. Years. Ago.
Today is a very, very different story. I love strawb now. And I’m loving it more. Today, my desktop wallpaper is a downloaded photo of strawberry, my lock screen wallpaper is another strawb photo, my lotion and cologne’s strawb scented, and my lipbalm’s strawb flavored. Every strawb merchandise entices me. I love collecting strawb stuff. I don’t know what happened exactly. I’m just enjoying the feeling I have for it.
My reflection? Since I feel so inspired writing this thing. Oooops. Haha! The thing is, I believe he – that man, not guy – he will come. He’s going to come. Love’s gonna happen. We can happen. Haha. Wait. Ang puso mo, Ati gurl! Kalma. But that’s just it. That’s really it. He’s gonna come unexpectedly, just as how the love for strawb came into my life. He will come, I just don’t know in what form (HAHA), in what wrapping, when, and how. All I know is that he has that gift tag that says “To: Richelle, From: God”. I’m sure he exists. He is out there. Or maybe out here. Or maybe he’s just around. Waiting and praying for me. Yay. This is way too kilig overload. Haha.
But, despite the hope I have, I am afraid. Not of liking-that-might-turn-into-loving. But of discovering someone’s flaws. I am afraid of disliking-that-might-turn-into-despise. That I confessed to a friend and she told me, ‘But why? Everyone has flaws.’ I don’t know where I am coming from. Though I know that truth, I find it hard to accept. Well, I am trying. I will. No one is and will ever be perfect. Even my dearly loved strawberry isn’t perfect. It isn’t sweet all the time. It isn’t even smooth on the outside. But that’s what makes its identity. That’s what makes it a strawberry. In its imperfections, there is beauty. There is love. Love that can only be found at the heart. Strawberry can sometimes be cute, but in reality, it is always beautiful. Love? Love isn’t cute. It is beautiful – beautiful despite the imperfections.
If it takes time for the fruits to ripen and a right season for strawberry-picking, so with a person’s heart. The right time will come. That’s what my heart believes in. That is what I’ll hold on to for the coming days, weeks, months and years.
To you, I’m excited to see you. I want to pull the time so that we can be finally together. But I cannot, and doing so will bring out an immature relationship. So, take your time. And I’ll do the same. Grow deeper in faith, be a good son, a good brother to your siblings and a passionate leader to your small (yet growing) group. I will wait patiently. See you when the time is right.