Wednesday

Life together

One fine day, an old couple around the age of 70, walks into a lawyer's office. Apparently, they are there to file a divorce.
Lawyer was very puzzled, after having a chat with them, he got their story....This couple had been quarreling all their 40 over yrs of marriage nothing ever seems to go right.
They hang on because of their children, afraid that it might affect their up-bringing. Now, all their children have already grown up, have their own family, there's nothing else the old couple have to worry about, all they wanted is to lead their own life free from all these years of unhappiness from their marriage, so both agree on a divorce....
Lawyer was having a hard time trying to get the papers done, because he felt that after 40 yrs of marriage at the age of 70, he couldnt understand why the old couple would still want a divorce..
While they were signing the papers, the wife told the husband.."I really love u, but i really cant carry on anymore, I'm sorry..""Its o.k, i understand.." said the husband. Lookin at this, the lawyer suggested a dinner together, just 3 of them,wife thought, why not, since they are still gonna be friends..
At the dining table, there was a silence of awkardness.The first dish was roasted chicken, immediately, the old man took the drumstick for the old lady.."take this, its your favourite.."
Looking at this, the lawyer thought maybe theres still a chance, but the wife was frowning when she answer.."This is always the problem, you always think so highly of yourself, never thought about how I feel, dont you know that i hate drumsticks?"
Little did she know that, over the years, the husband have been trying all ways to please her, little did she know that drumsticks was the husband's favourite. Little did he know that she never thought he understand her at all, little did he know that she hates drummsticks even though all he wants is the best for her.
That night, both of them couldnt sleep, toss and turn, toss and turn...after hours, the old man couldnt take it anymore, he knows that he still loves her, and he cant carry on life without her, he wants her back, he wants to tell her, he is sorry, he wanted to tell her "i love you"...
He picks up the phone, starting dialing her number....ringing never stops..he never stop dialing....
On the other side, she was sad, she couldn’t understand how come after all these years, he still doesnt understand her at all, she loves him a lot, but she just cant take it anymore....phone's ringing, she refuses to answer knowing that its him..."whats the point of talking now that its over...i have ask for it and now i wanna keep it this way, if not i will lose face.."she thought...still ringing...she have decided to pull out the cord...
Little did she remember, he have heart problems...
The next day, she received news that he had passed away...she rushed down to his apartment, saw his body, lying on the couch still holding on to the phone...he had a heart attack when he was still trying to get through her phone line....
As sad as she could be...she will have to clear his belongings...when she was looking thru the drawers, she saw this insurance policy, dated from the day they got married, with the beneficiary being her... And together in those file, there was this note...


"To my dearest wife, by the time you're reading this, I'm sure I'm no longer around, I bought this policy for you, though the amount is only $100k, I hope it will be able to help me continue my promise that i have made when we got married, I might not be around anymore, I want this amount of money to continue taking care of you, just like the way I will if I could have live longer. I want you to know Iwill always be around, by your side... I love you"
Tears flowed like river......
"When you love someone, let them know... You never know what will happen the next minute.... Learn to build a life together.. Learn to love each other. For who they are.. not what they are..."

To the nice guys

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in Halo2 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.
The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative b**ches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete a** now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.
So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

All the good things

He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's School in Morris, Minn. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. Very neat in appearance, but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischievousness delightful.
Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving. "Thank you for correcting me, Sister!" I didn't know what to make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a day.
One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often, and then I made a novice-teacher's mistake. I looked at him and said, "If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!"
It wasn't ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking again." I hadn't asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it.
I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll of masking tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room. As I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing he winked at me. That did it! I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the tape and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were, "Thank you for correcting me, Sister."
At the end of the year I was asked to teach junior-high math. The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instructions in the "new math," he did not talk as much in ninth grade as he had in the third.
One Friday, things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were frowning, frustrated with themselves - and edgy with one another. I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down.
It took the remainder of the class period to finish the assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed me the papers. Charlie smiled. Mark said, "Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend."
That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. "Really?" I heard whispered. "I never knew that meant anything to anyone!" "I didn't know others liked me so much!"
No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another again.
That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip, the weather, and my experiences in general. There was a light lull in the conversation. Mother gave Dad a side-ways glance and simply says, "Dad?" My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important. "The Eklunds called last night," he began. "Really?" I said. "I haven't heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is."
Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in Vietnam," he said. "The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend."
I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was, Mark, I would give all the masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me.
The church was packed with Mark's friends. The pastor said the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water.
I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the soldiers who had acted as pallbearer came up to me. "Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot," he said.
After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to Chucks farmhouse for lunch. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting for me. "We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it."
Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him. "Thank you so much for doing that." Mark's mother said. "As you can see, Mark treasured it."
Mark's classmates started to gather around us. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home." Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put this in our wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in my diary." Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry this with me at all times," Vicki said without batting an eyelash. "I think we all saved our lists."
That's when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.


The purpose of this story is to encourage everyone to compliment the people you love and care about. We often tend to forget the importance of showing our affections and love. Sometimes the smallest of things, could mean the most to another. Please spread this story around and spread the message and encouragement, to express your love and caring by complimenting and being open with communication. The density of people in society is so thick, that we forget that life will end one day and we don't know when that one day will be. Tell them, before it is too late.

Mad at you

Girl: Hey baby i want to show you....
Boy: ( cutting her off ) Ugh I'm so mad
Girl: Why? Whats wrong ?
Boy: Ugh everything
Girl: Explain baby
Boy: Just lost a championship game,parents flipped out on me for no reason,and im catching a cold
Girl: Well hey there will always be other games,you know I'll take care of you when your sick,what your parents flip about ?
Boy: They are making me pay them for a car repair
Girl: Is it a lot of money
Boy: No it just sucks
Boy: But hey I dont feel well I'm going to go lay down
Boy: Bye
Girl: Wait I want to give you some...
Boy: Can't It wait 'til tommorow ?
Girl: Yeah, sure
Girl: Bye
Boy: Bye
2 hours later a friend of hers asks her to go for a drive ...shegoes.....
Her friend swerved to avoid a truck....hitting a tree instead
Her friend was killed instantly....she's in critical condition
This is the conversation between her sister and her boyfriend.....
Sister: Omg ( crying )
Boy: What? Whats wrong ?
Sister: My sister...your girlfriend was involved in a major car wreck
Boy: Is she OK??????
Sister: She's in critical condition
Boy: I'll be there in 10 minutes
He shows up to the hospital room ...standing outside the door going over the last conversation in his mind over and over as he heard the machines beep and beep and breathing tubes pump oxygen into her lungs
Boy: She wanted to give me something or tell me something
Girls mom: Yeah this...
It was an envelope smelling like she sealed it with a kiss in lipstick
He opened it.....
It said ..... You're everything to me....I love you with everything I am and everything I have...I want to spend the rest of my life with you


Sealed in it was a ripped movie ticket from the first movie they went to...
...and the first picture they took together
He kissed the picture as a tear fell from his face onto the picture
It looked as if in the picture she was crying
Then the machines flatlined....3 minutes later she was pronounced dead

A racer's anniversary

It's been 3 months that we've been dating. Ever since 9th grade, we've always dreamed of being together. I use to give him love letters everyday when we were in high school. I'm in love with one of the best racers in the city. That gives me a good reputation. Well ever since hes got that car, hes been working on it 24/7. We barely have any alone time anymore. Our last month anniversary i bought him a new part for his car. He would always promise me that he would get me something better if i wait...so i do. He told me not to buy him anymore things for him cuzz he said its his job to buy me things so i stopped and waited for our anniversaries.
- A Month Later
It's August 1st, and its our 4th anniversary. I see this beautiful necklace in a catalog i got in the mail. He walks in and puts his tools down to get a drink...
Mark: Hey babe, what are u doing?Angelica: Looking at some jewelry.Mark: O cool.Angelica: By the way babe...do u know what day it is?Mark: Is it race night?Angelica: No...nevermind forget it
Mark: Ok (walks back into the garage to work on the car)
I stare at the catalog and touch the picture while a tear drop falls on the page. I go in the room and cry for about 2 hours straight. He didn't even notice how i felt that night. He has never gotten me anything for any of our anniversaries. I've waited for 4 months and still nothing.
- Another Month Later
It's September 1st, and its our 5th anniversary. I'm flipping through the channels and i find the first movie that we ever watched together. Once again hes working on his car as usual. He walks in to wash his hands...
Mark: Hey babe, what are u doing?Angelica: Watching the first movie that we ever watched together.Mark: O I remember that...(smiles and walks out)Angelica: Wait...Mark: (walks in again) Yes babe?Angelica: Do u know what day is today?Mark: Yeah it's friday...why?Angelica: Nothing...nevermindMark: O Ok (walks back in the garage)
I turn the TV off and i run to my room and cry for 3 hours this time. He still didn't notice it. He has never gotten me anything for any of our anniversaries. I've waited 5 months and still nothing.
- Another Month Passes
It's October 1st, and it's our 6th anniversary. I'm reading the love letters that he wrote to me when we were still in high school. He walks in and gives me a kiss on the cheek...
Mark: Hey babe, what are u doing?Angelica: Reading your old love letters from high school.Mark: (giggles of embarassment) I remember those...those were so silly.Angelica: By the way...where did u put the love letters that i gave u?Mark: Uhhh???... in the car...Angelica: O "i stood there in disbelief"Mark: Well anyways...Guess what day it is today babe.Angelica:(Smiles with all her joy) What day is it today?...In my mind- "He finallyremembered what day it is"Mark: Today is the day my new tires come in that i ordered online (smiles)Angelica: O yeah i remember....(frowns)...In my mind- "He still doesn't know"Mark: It's gonna come this afternoon. I'll go wait for it outside. (Runs outside)
I tried to open the last letter but it was too wet of tears. I run to the room and cry for 4 hours this time. He still didn't notice it. He has never gotten me anything for any of our anniversaries. I've waited 6 months and still nothing.
- Another Month Gone By
It's November 1st, and it's our 7th annversary. I wait for him inside. "If he doesn't remember this time, then it's over". He walks in...


Mark: Hey babe, what are u doing?Angelica: Nothing jus waiting for you.Mark: Why?Angelica: Do you know what today it is?Mark: Well it's saturday...Angelica: HOW COULD U KEEP FORGETTING!?!?!Mark: Forget bout what?Angelica: OUR ANNIVERSARY!!!Mark: O I forgot...I must have been busy working on the...Angelica: GET OUT!Mark: Babe why?Angelica: NOW!Mark: but babe I...Angelica: GO NOW!Mark- Walks outside
I slam the door on his back and i fall on my knees crying for about 5 hours. I hear the car turn on and blast out of the driveway. The last thing i heard was his tires skidding on the garage ground. I was so heart broken that i past out and fell asleep.
- 3 days later (November 4th)
I didn't hear from him since that day. He would usually come back to apologize. I called his family but they said he never came home at all. He has no where to stay so i call his cell. It's not in service...I get very worried that i once again i run up to my room and start crying. I cried for 6 hours this time. I fall asleep on the floor.
I have a nightmare while i was sleeping...
We're in his car and we're speeding on a 2 lane road. I'm in the passenger seat screaming. I see him driving and crying at the same time. I try my best to tell him to slow down but he jus won't hear me. Then i see a turn coming up. It's a very tight corner and it’s on the edge of a hill. We lose control and spin out and fall down the hill facing back words. The last thing i saw was a sign that said "SLOW DOWN - 10FT DROP"
I wake up, before we crash, and I’m sweating...and i stop and stare for about 10 minutes. I ask myself "Why didn't i wake up earlier?". I'd usually wake up before I get scared in my dreams. My friend walks it and I quickly get up pretending as if nothing happened.
Jenn: Wake up sleepy head...say...were gonna go to the view and look at all the lights from on top the mountains.Angelica: Cool, I'm there...jus let me get ready.Jenn: Ok, but hurry upAngelica: How long was i asleep?Jenn: About 2 hours
I look at the clock and it said 7:00 pm on the dot. Then I go to the bathroom and wash my face and i change my shirt. I'm still wondering about my dream. "It felt so real"
- In the car
We're goin up the mountain and the 4 lane road turns into 2 lanes. Me and Jenn are jus talking bout going to a concert next week. Then theres a strange silence in our conversation. Then up the road i see a sign that says "SLOW DOWN - 10FT DROP" then I gasp and i yell at Jenn "STOP!!!" and she slams the brakes and we stop in the middle of the road. Luckily theres no traffic so we're alone.
I step out of the car and look at the edge of the turn and i see skid marks on the ground leading to the edge of the hill and i see that theres a big gap in the guard rail as if some one had run straight into it. Then i look down at the edge of the hill to see his car laying there crushed under a tree. I drop to my knees and i just stare at it for about 2 minutes. Jenns surprised to see how i found the car.
I run to the wreck to see him laying there with his head down. I check his pulse only to find out that hes dead. I cry and while crying i see his hand is touching the glove compartment of the dash board. I walk around the car, to the other side and i open it. There... i found a box with a lock on it. It was a key lock but there was no key to be found. I see a paper sticking out from under the seat. I pull it and to my surprise....it was the first letter that i wrote to him. I was more curious but even more heart struck. I kicked the seat and it broke off and under it was all of the letters that i wrote to him. Every single one was there. then under all the papers was a key. I looked at it and then looked at the box. I stuck the key in and twisted it. CLICK It pops open and i jus drop to my knees again in more tears to see the necklace that i was looking at 4 months ago in the catalog. I looked at it and put it on. But that wasn't it....under the necklace was a pillow and under that pillow was a ring. A diamond ring and under that was a letter...
Dear Angelica,
I've been waiting for a long time for this moment and I think it's the perfect time. We've been together for 8 months and that was enough time for me to find out that u were the right one for me. The whole time I've been working on my car, I've also been planning on how I was gonna tell u this. All i can say now is that I really love you. I want u to be mine and only mine. I will always feel this way no matter what happens to me or u. So in conclusion...will u accept this ring for me and wear it till u die. As long as u have it on, I will always be with you.
Always Love; Forever,Mark
P.S. - I will still love you and I'll make up all my mistakes even when I die.


I just loose my heart at that moment i finished reading the last words. My tears start to smear the writing and then suddenly the words dissappear from the moisture. I notice that I am covering a part of the letter with my finger. I move my finger slowly to read the piece of writing. I read it closely...and it says..."November 4th - 5:00pm" I just stopped and thinked…then I jus noticed that 5:00pm was when I fell asleep and had the dream... i cried that whole night regretting my every word that I said to him. Till today, I wear the same ring. Now im working on his car that he died in. I'm planning to fix it up on my own. I know that he is still in that car. So I've deciding to keep the car with me till I die. As long as I have this car, I'll always have him.

I love you not

Boy: Baby, we need to talk.Girl: Ricardo, what do u mean?Boy: Something has come up...Girl: What? What's wrong? Is it bad?Boy: I don't want to hurt you, baby.Girl: *Thinks* Oh my God, I hope he doesnt break up with me... I love him so much.Boy: Baby, are you there??Girl: Yeah, I'm here. What is so important??Boy: I'm not sure if I should say it..Girl: Well, you already brought it up, so please just tell me.Boy: I'm leaving...Girl: Baby, what are u talking about?? I don't want you to leave me, I love you.Boy: Not like that, I mean I'm moving far away.Girl: Why? All of your famliy lives over here.Boy: Well, my father is sending me away to a boarding school far away.Girl: I can't believe this.[FATHER: (Picks up the other phone, interrupts & yells furiouslyERICA!, what did I tell you about talking to boys?!!!... Get off thedamn phone!! (And hangs up).]
Boy: Wow, your father sounds really mad.Girl: You know how he gets, but anyways, I dont want you to go.Boy: Would you run away with me?Girl: Baby, you know I would, I would do anything for you, but I can't... You don't know what would happen if I did. My dad would kill me!Boy: *Sad* It's okay.. I understand, I guess..Girl: *Thinking*I can't believe what's going on.Boy: I need to give you something tonite, because I am leaving onflight 1-80 in the morning, so I need to see you now.Girl: Okay, I will sneak out & meet you at the park.Boy: Okay, I'll meet you there in 20 minutes.[They meet at a nearby park, they both hug eachother. And he givesher a note.]Boy: Here you go, this is for you. I gotta go.Girl: *Tear* (Begins to cry.)Boy: Baby, dont cry, you know I love you... But I have to go.Girl: Okay (Begins to walk away.)[They both go back home. And Erica begins to read the letter he gave her]It says..."Erica,
You probably already know that I'm leaving, I knew this would be better if I wrote a letter explaining the truth about how much I care about you. The truth is, is that I never loved you, I hated you so much, you are my bitch and dont you ever forget that. I never cared about you, and never wanted to talk to you, and be around you. You really have no clue how much I hate you. Now that I'm leaving I thought you should know that I hate you, bitch. You never did theright thing, and you were never there. I didnt think I could hate someone as much as I hate you. And I never want to see you, for the rest of my life, I will never miss kissing you like before, I never want to cuddle up, how we used to. I will not miss you and that's a promise. You never had my love, and I want you to remember that. Bitch, you keep this letter because this may be the last thing you have from me. Fuck, I hate you so much. I will not talk to you soon bitch... Goodbye.- Ricardo"[ Erica begins to cry, she throws the paper in tha garbage & crys for hours ]... A day passes, she is sad, depressed and she feels so lonely... Then she gets a phone call....Friend: How are you feeling?Girl: I just cant believe this happened.. I thought he loved me.Friend: Oh, about that. Ricardo left me a message. A few days ago. He told me to tell you to look in your jacket pocket or something...Girl: Umm.. okay.[She finds a piece of paper in the jacket,It says:"Baby I hope you find this before you read my letter. I knew your dad might read it, so I switched a few words...Hate = LoveNever = AlwaysBitch = BabyWill not= will.... I hope you didn't take that seriously because I love you with all my heart, and it was so hard to let you go thats why I wanted you to run away with me... -Ricardo"]Girl: Oh my God! It's a letter.. Ricardo does love me!!, he must of slipped it into my pocket when he hugged me. I can't believe how stupid I am!!


Friend: lol Okay but I g2g... Call me later.Girl: *happy*okay, bye, I'll be at home waiting for my baby to call me!... Erica turns the T.V. on......[Breaking news] "An airplane has crashed. Over 47 young boys died, we are still searching for survivors... This is a tragedy we will never forget, this plane was flight 1-80... it was on its way to an all boys boarding school..." the Reporter says.[ She turns off the t.v. ... 3 days later, she kills herself, because of the fact that Ricardo was dead & she had nothing to live for... ]... A day after that the phone rings. Nobody answers. It was Ricardo, he called to leave a message. "Its Ricardo, I guess you're not home so, I called to let you know that I'm alive, I missed my flight because I had to see you one last time. So, I hope your not worried. I am staying for good

Text Pal

My cellphone's beeping sound woke me up one night. Used to receiving important messages only, I grabbed my cell and sleepily pushed the keys and read the message.
"Hi there! Care 2 b my txtmate?"
Not knowing who the sender was, I deleted the message right away and placed the phone on my bedside table, I tried to go back to sleep.
I had just closed my eyes when I heard the message tone again.
"Hi there, again! Care 2 b my txtmate?" again, the message said.
"Who the hell could this be asking for txtmate at the wee hours of the night?" I asked myself.
Again, without bothering to reply I deleted the message.
I was never a 'textmaniac' - someone who enjoys texting anyone and everyone even at the wee hours of night, not to mention during the day. My parents, who were always out of the country forced me to own a cellphone. They told me that having one was more convenient - they could monitor me even if they're miles away.
I wanted to turn the unit off, but since my mother was fond of calling me at night, just to check if I was safe at home, I decided not to.
Just as I was to close my eyes and return to my dreamless sleep, the phone beeped again.
Same number...Such determination!
"Ply reply 2 dis msg & b an angel & save me frm dis abyss of emptiness!!!"
I never knew why, but the message struck me. I got up and pushed the keys... I just realized I was replying to the message.
"Im not an angel, n f u want som1 2 save u, m not superman... I'm just a simple prson who u wake up at dis r of my nyt!!! Nway, do I know u?" I typed.
Seconds later came the reply.
"Nope. U don't know dis lonely soul. Nor does she know u. But I want 2 b ur frnd. I'm Mikaella Cervantes. U?"
"Just call me Julius. How'd u get my no.?" I sent back.
"Hi Julius, nice 2 meet u. Just shuffled the last two digits of mine," she replied.
That was the first and maybe the last time I met someone over the cellphone.
We exchanged messages and learned so much about each other that night. We only said goodbye when my alarm clock rang at 5:00 AM! I had to prepare for school!
And that was also how it all started. A day would not pass without it loving and thoughtful messages from her. It was only then I had learned to appreciate text messages and become eager and excited everytime my phone beeped, hoping it would be her.
Mikaella brought out something about me that I never knew I had; I realized I could also be a romantic person... even if it's just through text messaging.
"Keep me as a frnd & I will keep u in my heart. Lock it up & throw away d key so dat no1 can evr tke u away from me..."One day, she sent this message to me.
I replied: 'In life, we seldom find a true prson & f u evr find 1, hold on & nvr let go... value dat prson coz it's lyf's gift worth keeping & holdin on..."
I never knew why, but her response sent shivers to my spine, " Value d people hu hav touched ur life bcoz u will never know just wen dey will walk out of ur lyf & nvr come back again."
I couldn't understand what I felt that moment, but one thing I was sure though... I could not go on a day without a single word from her. I'd become used to having her, eventhough we had not met personally. But truly, she already occupied a space, a large one, in fact in my life.
I texted her back. "Dont come close f l8r ull jst pass by; don't touch me f l8r ull jst let me cry; dont luv me f l8r ull jst leave me and won't stay..."
I didn't know why I sent her that message, but somehow I felt, every word came from my heart. In the short span of time we were sending messages to each other, I knew, I was starting to keep her in my heart.


I called her once. The voice on the other end was like an angel's. Soft, kind, full of love. Yet, there was something in it I couldn't define. We only talked for a few minutes. Before she hung up, she told me not to call again. According to her, it would be better if we would just text each other.
But the voice kept ringing, not only in my head, but in my heart, I'd long to hear it once more. I tried to call her again, but she never answered the phone. She just kept on sending messages and quotations, which I copied in a little notebook. Hopeless romantic? I didn't know. All I could say was that all the messages she sent me were wonderful, they came from the heart and cut through the heart.
"Though we r miles apart, u r always n my heart. I close my eyes & der u r. Even f I'll see u never, I'll always b hir 2 care 4 u, far longer dan 4ever..."
One December night, she sent me this message. By that time we had been exchanging messages for more than a month. God knew how happy I was. She was right. Although we had not seen each other, what we felt was enough to make us both realize what was keeping us together.
I sent her another message, "Loving u secretly is a hard thing 4 me 2 do,hoping, wondring that u will feel d same way 2, but I can't read r mind f u luv me 2. But whatever it is, I'll still be loving u."
"How I wish I cud really tell u how much u mean 2 me, but m afraid 2 love, scared 2 get hurt... I hope dat u will wait 4 me & pray dat u will not get tired of loving me...=)" was her reply.
And then I replied again. " The reason y I met u is bcoz of destiny but f destiny will suggest dat I'll live w/o u, den, I'll lie not by destiny but of free will."
Whenever I asked her when we would meet personally, she always answered, "Soon...soon, love...soon."
Not seeing each other did not lessen, even a bit, what I felt for her...rather, it even grew deeper and stronger each day. And I was sure, she felt the same way, too. Love messages continued to flow through our lines, between our hearts, which made us go on each day with the thought that sooner, we would see each other, face to face, heart to heart.
Just a few days before Christmas. She stopped sending messages. At first I just though she had ran out of prepaid.
But there was something that kept bothering me... I couldn't understand what was it, but it made me fell nervous. I tried to call her but she wouldn't answer. Nevertheless, I continued sending messages.
Suddenly one night, just three days before our Lord's birthday. I heard my phone's message tone again... at last!It was from her!
"Oftentyms we say gudbye 2 d 1 we luv w/o wanting 2. Though dat doesn't mean dat we stopped loving dem or we stopped 2 care. Sometyms, GOODBYE is a painful way 2 say I LOVE YOU."
I was dumfounded. I didn't know what to think of. What did she mean? I texted her back, searching for answers, but found nothing. I called her but she would not answer.
For the first time in my life, I felt so miserable...desperate... empty. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to lose her. I had learned to love her. And I wanted to be with her forever.
The following days I felt nothing but emptiness. It seemed that Mikaella took the life out of me. I missed her so much...her messages...The tones that would tell me she'd sent another loving message. Nothing around me could feel the emptiness I felt.
Tut...tut...tut...tut...tut...just a day before Christmas, my cell beeped again. It was her!
"Meet me at d café, 10 AM 2day," I read aloud, making sure the message was true, then I jumped with joy upon hearing from her again. Hurriedly, I got myself ready and I went to the mall. I knew it was still early, but I wanted to be there before she arrived.
I arrived at the meeting place ten minutes earlier. I was surprised to see her already there, smiling at me. She was very beautiful, Black, deep-set eyes that spoke a thousand words; small, kissable lips; a nose perfectly chiseled and long black hair - everything in her was beautiful. And yes, her eyes radiated kindness and love...but there was a flicker of something in them...sadness?
"Hi, Julius," said the angelic voice I had been dreaming of each night. The voice that I had waited to hear for so long. "Please sit down." "I am very pleased to meet you, Mikaella," I said, as I took my seat and gave the roses I brought for her.
"Thanks, Julius," she smiled, obviously pleased with the roses. I knew she loved pink roses.
"You are always welcome, Love" "Julius, I can't stay," she said, sadness in her voice, or was it tears? "I really must go."
"But we just met, Mikaella. Can't we talk a little longer?" I asked, pleadingly.
"I can't really. I just came here to see you and thank you for the time you shared with me. Thank you for everything, Julius. I will never forget you...you will always be here in my heart."


She was looking at me straight into the eyes, and I could really feel the sadness in her voice and I swear, there was something in her voice and I swear, there was something in those lovely yet lonely eyes...
She got up and smiled at me, lovingly.
"Tomorrow morning, please come and visit me," he said and gave me a piece of white linen paper.
I read what was written and when I looked up, she was gone. The following day, Christmas, I woke up early and excitedly readied myself,thinking of her. I hurriedly went to flower shop and bought a dozen pink roses - for Mikaella.
They lived in an exclusive subdivision.
Upon reaching their house, I told the guard who I was and that I was looking for Mikaella.
The guard stared at me, sadness and amazement in his eyes and told me to wait as he called the owner of the house. As I looked at him while he was going inside the house, only then I noticed that the house was brightly lit.
A woman went out and walked towards me, smiling sadly.
"Hi, I'm Maria, Mikaella's mother. Please come inside, Julius." While we were walking towards the mansion, she explained to me why she knew me very well - Mikaella had always been talking about her friend, Julius. I hardly understood what she was saying. I was busy thinking why Mikaella's mother was crying while talking to me.
As we came near the great hall of the house, it dawned on me that there was a wake inside, Maybe, a relative passed away, I thought. But deep in my heart, I was trembling and afraid.
As we entered the hall where so many people were silently mourning while others were praying, shaking, I asked her mother. "Where is Mikaella?"
She held my hand and silently, led me to the coffin which was surrounded by flowers - pink roses, nothing but pinkroses.
No words could explain how I felt when I gazed at the coffin and saw who was lying there. The same beautiful girl I met...
A man came beside me, I knew he was Mika's father.
"We are so glad you came, Julius. Mika talked of you all the time. She even asked that her phone be buried with her.
She said that in that way, you could still send her messages and you would always be with her."
I couldn't believe everything... My mind was in limbo.
"But how can this be? We just saw each other yesterday."
"That can't possibly be. She passed away three days ago. She had been suffering from a heart disease since she was a child," said her father.
"But..." I couldn't find the words to say.
"She told us not to bother reaching you, "her mother said, still in tears," she said you will come, and here you are.
Pain and bitterness overwhelmed me. I cried silently beside her, staring at her lovely face, memorizing every line of my friend's face, a face I knew I would never forget while I was still alive.
After the internment that afternoon, I went to the chapel she hadtold me she went everyday.
Sitting there praying and crying to God, I held my phone and typed: "U taught me how 2 care; u taught me how 2 b kind; u shwd me how 2 lyk som; u shwd me how 2 luv; but ders 1 thing didnt teach me & it hurts mor - u didnt teach me how 2 let go. I LOVE YOU"
I sent the message, and though I knew she wouldn't be able to hold her CP again, I knew in my heart she would get my message. I never expected a reply, yet as my phone beeped again,felt a shiver down my spine. The sender's number did not appear on the screen, and tears rolled down my cheeks as I read the message.


"Let go of d hand of d person u love, but dont let go of God's hand. 4 if u hold 2 his hand. He may b holding d person u love n d ader hand 2 let u hold each other again."
"I will never forget you, Mikaella and will never let go..." I vowed to her and to myself as I left the church.

Tuesday

A boy's love

A good reminder: "Take time to appreciate what you have now." --Dont miss reading this one
On the last day before Christmas, I hurried to go to the supermarket to buy theremaining of the gift I didn't manage to buy earlier.
When I saw all the people there, I started to complain tomyself,"It is going to take forever here and I still have so many other places to go.Christmas really is getting more and more annoying every year.How I wish I could just lie down, go to sleep and only wake up after it..."
Nonetheless, I made my way to the toy section, and there I started to curse the prices, wondering if after all kids really pla ywith such expensive toys.
While looking in the toy section, I noticed a small boy of about 5 years old, pressing a doll against his chest. He kept on touching the hair of the doll and looked so sad. I wondered who was this doll for. Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him, "Granny, are you sure I don't have enough money?"
The old lady replied, "You know that you don't have enough money to buy this doll, my dear."
Then she asked him to stay here for 5 minutes while she went to look around. She left quickly. The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.
Finally, I started to walk toward him and I asked him who did he want to give this doll to."It is the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for this Christmas. She was so sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her."
I replied to him that may be Santa Claus will bring it to her, after all, and not to worry. But he replied to me sadly.
"No, Santa Claus can not bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mother so that she can give it to her when she goes there."
His eyes were so sad while saying this.
"My sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mummy will also go to see God very soon, so I thought that she could bring the doll with her to give it to my sister."


My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said, "I told daddy to tell mummy not to go yet. I asked him to wait until I come back from the supermarket."
Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me, "I also want mummy to take this photo with her so that she will not forget me."
I love my mummy and I wish she doesn't have to leave me but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister."
Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly.I quickly reachedfor my wallet and took a few notes and said to the boy, "What if we checkedagain, just in case if you have enough money?"
"Ok," he said. "I hope that I have enough."
I added some of my money to his without him seeing and we started to count it.There was enough for the doll, and even some spare money.
The little boy said, "Thank you God for giving me enough money."
Then he looked at me and added,"I asked yesterday before I slept for God tomake sure I have enough money to buy this doll so that mummy can give it to my sister. He heard me.""I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mummy, but I didn't dare to ask God too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and the white rose."
"You know, my mummy loves white rose."
A few minutes later, the old lady came again and I left with my trolley. Ifinished my shopping in a totallydifferent state from when I started. I couldn't get the little boy out of mymind.
Then I remembered a local newspaper article 2 days ago, which mentioned of a drunk man in a truck who hit a car where there was one young lady and a little girl. The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-assisting machine, because the young lady would not be able to get out of the coma.
Was this the family of the little boy?
Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the newspaper that the young lady had passed away.I couldn't stop myself and went to buy a bunch of white roses and I went to the mortuary where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see and make last wish before burial.


She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rosein her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest. I left the place crying, feeling that my life had been changed forever. The love that this little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to that day, hard to imagine. And in a fraction of a second, a drunk man had taken all this away from him.

Thinking of you

Sophie's face faded into the gray winter light of the sitting room. She dozed in the armchair that Joe had bought for her on their fortieth anniversary. The room was warm and quiet. Outside it was snowing lightly.
At a quarter past one the mailman turned the corner onto Allen Street. He was behind on his route, not because of the snow, but because it was Valentine's Day and there was more mail than usual. He passed Sophie's house without looking up. Twenty minutes later he climbed back into his truck and drove off.
Sophie stirred when she heard the mail truck pull away, then took off her glasses and wipe her mouth and eyes with the handkerchief she always carried in her sleeve. She pushed herself up using the arm of the chair for support, straightened slowly and smoothed the lap of her dark green housedress.
Her slippers made a soft, shuffling sound on the bare floor as she walked to the kitchen. She stopped at the sink to wah the two dishes she had left on the counter after lunch. Then she filled a plastic cup halfway with water and took her pills. It was one forty-five.
There was a rocker in the sitting room by the front window. Sophie eased herself into it. In a half-hour the children would be passing by on their way home from school. Sophie waited, rocking and watching the snow.
The boys came first, as always, runnng and calling out things Sophie could not hear. Today they were making snowball as they went, throwing them at one another. One snowball missed and smackd hard into Sophie's window. She jerked backward, and the rocker slipped off the edge of her oval rag rug.
The girl dilly-dallied after the boys, in twos and threes, cupping their mittened hands over their mouths and giggling. Sophie wonder if they were telling each other about the valentines they had received at school. One pretty girl with long brown hair stopped and pointed to her face behind the drapes, suddenly self-consious. When she looked out again, the boys and girls were gone. It was cold by the window, but she stayed there watching the snow conver the children's footprints
A florist's truck turned onto Allen Street. Sophie followed it with her eyes. It was moving slowly. Twice it stopped and started again. Then the driver pulled up in front of Mrs. Mason's house next door and parked.Who would be sending Mrs. Mason flowers? Sophie wondered. Her daughter in Wisconsin? Or her brother? No, her brother was very ill. It was probably her daughter. How nice of her.
Flowers made Sophie think of Joe and, for a moment, she let the aching memory fill her. Tomorrow was the fifteenth. Eight months since his death.
The flower mans was knocking at Mrs. Mason's front door. He carried a long white and green box and a clipboard. No one seemed to be answering. Of course! It was Friday - Mrs. Mason quilted at the church on Friday afternoons. the delivery man looked around, then started toward Sophie's house.
Sophie shoved herself out of the rocker and stood close to the drapes. The man knocked. Her hands trembled as she straightened her hair. She reached her front hall on the third knock.
"Yes?" she said, peering around a slightly opened door. "Good afternoon, ma'am," the man said loudly. "Would you take a delivery for your neighbor?"
"Yes," Sophie answered, pulling the door wide open. "Where would you like me to put them?" the man asked politely as he strode in.
"In the kitchen, please. On the table." The man looked big to Sophie. She could hardly see his face between his green cap and full beard. Sophie was glad he left quickly, and she locked the door after him.
The box was as long as the kitchen table. Sophie drew near to it and bent over to read the lettering: "NATALIE'S Flowers for Every Occasion." The rich smell of roses engulfed her. She closed her eyes and took slower breaths, imagining yellow roses. Joe had always chosen yellow. "To my sunshine," he would say, presenting the extravagant bouquet. He would laugh delightedly, kiss her on the forehead, then take her hands in his and sing to her "You Are My Sunshine."
It's was five o'clock when Mrs. Mason knocked at Sophie's front door. Sophie was still at the kitchen table. The flower box was now open though, and she held the roses on her lap, swaying slightly and stroking the delicate yellow petals. Mrs. Mason knocked again, but Sophie did not hear her, and after several minutes the neighbour left.
Sophie rose a little while later, laying the flowers on the kitchen table. Her cheeks were flushed. She dragged a stepstool across the kitchen floor and lifted a white porcelain vase from the top corner cabinet. Using a drinking glass, she filled the vase with water, then tenderly arranged the roses and greens, and carried them into the sitting room.
She was smiling as she reached the middle of the room. She turned slightly and began to dip and twirl in small slow circles. She stepped lightly, gracefully, around the sitting room, into the kitchen, down the hall, back again. She danced till her knees grew weak, and then she dropped into the armchair and slept.
At a quarter past six, Sophie awoke with a start. Someone was knocking on the back door this time. It was Mrs. Mason.
"Hello, Sophie," Mrs. Mason said. "How are you? I knocked at five and was a little worried when you didn't come. Were you napping?" She chattered as she wiped her snowy boots on the welcome mat and stepped inside. "I just hate snow, don't you? The radio says we might have six inches by midnight, but you can never trust them, you know. Do you remember last winter when they predicted four inches, and we hand twenty-one? Twenty-one! And they said we'd have a mild winter this year. Ha! I don't think it's been over zero in weeks. Do you know my oil bill was $263 last month? For my little house!"
Sophie was only half-listening. She had remembered the roses suddenly and was turning hot with shame. The empty flower box was behind her on the kitchen table. What would she say to Mrs. Mason?
"I don't know how much longer I can keep paying the bills. If only Alfred, God bless him, had been as careful with money as your Joseph. Joseph! Oh, good heavens! I almost forgot about the roses."Sophie's cheeks burned. She began to stammer an apology, stepping aside to reveal the empty box.


"Oh, good," Mrs. Mason interrupted. "You put the roses in water. Then you saw the card. I hope it didn't startle your to see Joseph's handwriting. Joseph had asked me to bring you the roses the first year, so I could explain for him. He didn't want to alarm you. His 'Rose Trust,' I think he called it. He arranged it with the florist last Apirl. Such a good man, your Joseph..."
But Sophie had stopped listening. Her heart was pounding as she picked up the small white envelope she had missed earlier. It had been lying beside the flower box all this time. With trembling hands, she removed the card.
"To my sunshine," it said. "I love you with all my heart. Try to be happy when you think of me. Love, Joe."

Chain of love

He was driving home one evening, on a two-lane country road. Work, in this small Midwestern community, was almost as slow as his beat-up Pontiac. But he never quit looking. Ever since the factory closed, he'd been unemployed, and with winter raging on, the chill had finally hit home.
It was a lonely road. Not very many people had a reason to be on it, unless they were leaving. Most of his friends had already left. They had families to feed and dreams to fulfill. But he stayed on. After all, this was where he buried his mother and father. He was born here and knew the country. He could go down this road blind, and tell you what was on either side, and with his headlights not working, that came in handy.
It was starting to get dark and light snow flurries were coming down. He'd better get a move on. You know, he almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her. Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe, he looked poor and hungry.
He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill which only fear can put in you. He said, "I'm here to help you ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Bryan."
Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt. As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid. Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk.
She asked him how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She had already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Bryan never thought twice about the money. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way. He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance that they needed, and Bryan added "...and think of me."
He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight. A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant.
Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash register was like the telephone of an out of work actor. It didn't ring much. Her waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed that the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan.
After the lady finished her meal and the waitress went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, the lady slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. She wondered where the lady could be, and then she noticed something written on a napkin. There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote. It said:
"You don't owe me anything, I have been there too. Somebody once helped ME out, the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do not let this chain of love end with you."
Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard. She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's going to be all right, I love you, Bryan."


Please note that this story is an expanded version of the song Chain Of Love by Clay Walker. All rights for this story belong to its respective owners and Love Fate Destiny does not owe any rights to this story.

Men are from mars,Women are from venus

You know that book "Men are from Mars, Women from Venus"? Well, here's a prime example of that. The unverified claim is that this was turned in as an actual English assignment.
Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person, sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time, in order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Rebecca [last name deleted] and Gary [last name deleted]English 44ASMUCreative WritingProf. MillerIn-class Assignment for Wednesday
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The camomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked camomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much, her asthma started acting up again. So camomile was out of the question. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie, with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far ..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth -- when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?", she pondered wistfully.

I'm sorry I lied

Jenny was so happy about the house they had found. For once in her life that was on the right side of town. She unpacked her things with such great ease. As she watched her new curtains blow in the breeze. How wonderful it was to have her own room. School would be starting, she would have friends over soon. There will be sleep-overs, and parties. She was so happy. It's just the way she wanted her life to be.
On the first day of school, everything went great. She made new friends and even got a date! She thought, "I want to be popular and I'm going to be, because I just got a date with the star of the team!" To be known in this school you had to have a clout, and dating this guy would sure help her out. There was only one problem stopping her fate. Her parents had said she was too young to date. "Well I just won't tell them the entire truth. They won't know the difference. What's there to lose?"
Jenny asked to stay with her friends that night. Her parents frowned but said, "All right." Excited, she got ready for the big event. But as she rushed around like she had no sense, she began to feel guilty about all the lies, but what's a pizza, a party, and a moonlight ride? Well the pizza was good, and the party was great, and the moonlight ride would have to wait, for Jeff was half drunk by this time.
But he kissed her and said that he was just fine. Then the room filled with smoked and Jeff took a puff. Jenny couldn't believe he was smoking that stuff. Now Jeff was ready to ride to the point, but only after he'd smoked another joint.
They jumped in the car for the moonlight ride, not thinking that he was too drunk to drive. They finally made it to the point at last, and Jeff started trying to make a pass. A pass is not what Jenny wanted at all (and by a pass, I don't mean playing football.) "Perhaps my parents were right. Maybe I am too young. Boy, how could I ever, ever be so dumb?" With all of her might, she pushed Jeff away, "Please take me home, I don't want to stay."
Jeff cranked up the engine and floored the gas. In a matter of seconds they were going too fast. As Jeff drove on in a fit of wild anger, Jenny knew that her life was in danger. She begged and pleaded for him to slow down, but he just got faster as they neared the town. "Just let me get home! I'll confess that I lied. I really went out for a moonlight ride."
Then all of a sudden, she saw a big flash. "Oh God, Please help us! We're going to crash!" She doesn't remember the force of impact. Just that everything all of a sudden went black. She felt someone remove her from the twisted rubble, and heard, "Call an ambulance! These kids are in trouble!" Voices she heard, a few words at best. But she knew there were two cars involved in the wreck.
Then wondered to herself if Jeff was all right, and if the people in the other car was alive. She awoke in the hospital to faces so sad. "You've been in a wreck and it looks pretty bad." These voices echoed inside her head, as they gently told her that Jeff was dead. They said "Jenny, we've done all we can do. But it looks as if we'll lose you too." "But the people in the other car?" Jenny cried. "We're sorry, Jenny, they also died."


Jenny prayed, "God, forgive me for what I've done. I only wanted to have just one night of fun." "Tell those people's family, I've made their lives dim, and wish I could return their families to them." "Tell Mom and Dad I'm sorry I lied, and that it's my fault so many have died. Oh, nurse, won't you please tell them that for me?"
The nurse just stood there. She never agreed. But took Jenny's hand with tears in her eyes. And a few moments later Jenny died. A man asked the nurse, "Why didn't you do your best to bid that girl her one last request?" She looked at the man with eyes so sad. "Because the people in the other car were her mom and dad."

A teacher's lesson

There is a story many years ago of an elementary teacher. Her name was Mrs. Thompson. And as she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children a lie. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same.
But that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard. Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he didn't play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.
At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.
Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners. He is a joy to be around."
His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."
His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."
Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and sometimes sleeps in class."
By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present which was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag.
Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist.
Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to." After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, and writing, and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children.
Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets."
A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life. Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer - the letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D.
The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he'd met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the place at the wedding that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.


They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."
Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."

Follow your heart

Billy loved Katie with all his heart. But he never told a Single soul. Katie secretly loved him too. But she thought she would never have a chance with him. Billy asked his friends what they think of her and his friends thought she was gay. They didn't like her at all. So Billy just went along with them. They all made fun of her and made her feel really bad. Katie was so upset.
One day they followed her home from school making fun of her the whole way home. Once she got inside her house she dropped to the floor cringe. She had a crush on Billy since 3rd grade. She didn't know what to do. When Billy got home he felt real bad about what he had done. So he decided to go to Katie's house to tell her he was sorry and that he really loves her.
When he got there he knocked on the door no one answered.
The door was open so he walked in. He walked into the living room and found Katie lying dead on the floor. She had slit her wrists. Billy was so up set . He knew it was his fault she killed her self. And now he could never tell her how he really felt.
The lesson of this story is: Don't wait to until the last minute to tell someone how you really feel. Because it just might be too late. And don't always go by what your friends say, follow your heart.

A diary from a guy

*January 2*
Do you still remember the first time we met? It was the first day in school. I was hurriedly entering the school gate when I bumped into you as you stepped out of a luxurious Volvo. The books you were holding fell all over the ground. I quickly picked up the books and returned them to you along with words of apology, but all you showed me was your intimidating look. My first impression of you was thatyou were a wilful girl born with a golden sthingy in the mouth. I had rejected you completely and had hoped not to meet you again, but surprisingly you turned out to be my classmate.
*March 22*
I started to know more about you as days passed and my opinion of you changed for the better on each passing day. I realised that you were from a wealthy family but definitely not a wilful girl. You were nice and friendly. You got angry that day we first met because I had left a footprint marking on the poetry collection you loved dearly. We met often during lunch break and I found something in you that was different from the rest of the girls - your passion for Chinese poetry. Often you would mumble something to yourself. Initially, I thought that you were humming a pop song butlater I realised that you had been reciting Chinese poems from great poets. You were so knowledgeable that you knew every poet and which poems they composed. I was very impressed indeed.
*April 5*
I met you again in the study area. That day you were reading the Chinese classics "Romance of the 3 kingdom". Your ability to appreciate Chinese classics left me with admiration. You were indeed unique in many ways.
*May 5*
From then on, we would often meet in the study area to discuss about the good and bad things of the character in these Chinese classics. Do you still remember the time when we a! lmost br oke off because we could not agree on whether Jia BaoYu hurt Lin Dai Yu? Our argument was so fierce that we never talked for that week. But when Friday came, we still met in the study area and laughed over the incident. After which, another argument started.
*Aug 7*
I could not deny it. It was a feeling I could not identify accurately. Wenever you laughed over a joke with other guys, that emotion filled my senses. It took me a while before identified it. I was in love; the feeling was jealousy. I felt the need to express it. But, I was afraid...that you would dismiss my feeling, that you and I would be stuck in an embarrassing situation, that our long nurtured friendship would crumble...therefore, I kept quiet.
*Oct 1*
The news came as a shock to me. I was so worried when I learnt that you had fainted in the canteen. I was struggling to keep my worried face in control as I looked at the ambulance that carried you away.
*Oct 2*
It was drizzling that day. Our form teacher sadly announced that you had got cancer. As she finished her last sentence, outside the classroom, it seemed to me that the drizzle had turned into a downpour. I could only hear the sound of the rain, nothing more. I rushed to NUH ICU to see you immediately after lesson. Your face was whitish in colour, showing no trace of red. I learnt that you had just undergone an operation. The life-support system was just beside you with tubes piercing mercilessly into your left wrist. "I am all right, it is just a serious case of anemia. Believe me, my parents told me that". you said convincingly. I knew fully well what you were thinking, you did not want me to be worried. "Are you comforting yourself or comforting the fears and hopelessness that was written all over my face?", I thought to myself. I was not strong enough to disagree with you and I nodded my head with a forced smile. You responded with a smile too-with gre! at effor t.
*Oct 5*
It was a ordinary day but to me, it was an important day. I felt an impulse to express my love. I walked over to the side of your bed, holding your hand. I told you the story of how an ordinary guy fell in love with a girl who likes poetry and Chinese classics. As I told my story, my eyes started to flood with water, and uncontrollably my voice started to choke, and finally I broke into tear But you held my head against your body and with watery eyes, said: "I understand such a love, so did the girl." I returned my eyes to her and at that moment, her tears dropped, and for the first time, I saw some redness on her lips.
*Oct 26*
It was the last day of examination and I rushed to NUH to continue my story. When I reached there, I only saw the nurse arranging the bed you once slept on. When I asked about you, the nurse told me expressionlessly that you had passed away. It was a bolt from the blue for me. I stood motionless for a long time. I hated myself for spending the last few days preparing for the last examination paper. I hated myself for not staying longer the last time I visited you. I hated myself so much...but you were gone...... I can't remember how I got home that day. When I woke up, I was already in my room. The pillow I slept on was wet. The next day, I went for the funeral. I heard from your father that on the day you passed away, you were still reading the Poetry collection I gave you as a gift for your birthday. Standing in front of Your portrait, I had no tears, they were used up on the day of your death. All I knew was sadness, my heart was like shattered into pieces and died.
*Jan 2*
A new girl has taken over your seat. She does not like poetry, but she likes to hum pop songs. When I asked her if she knows Jia Bao Yu, she replied: "What talking you." Yes, you were gone. But to me, the seat is still unoccupied, and maybe no one will ever occupy it......
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


This is a true story that happened 10 years ago!!!! Now then Can fully understand what the author means by "A PERSON WILL KNOW WHAT IS PAIN ONLY WHEN HE HAS BEEN THROUGH IT...." To cut the whole story short...jus wanna tell u pple that.....
IF U TRULY LOVE THAT SOMEONE... JUS GO RIGHT UP TO HIM OR HER OR GIVE A PHONE CALL RIGHT NOW TO SAY "I lUV U " AND EXPRESS YOUR FEELINGS FOR THAT PERSON B4 IT'S TOO LATE!!!!!
A Guy would rather shed blood than shed tears but that's because he has yet experience sadness. The moral of the story is to treasure your love ones coz they might not be always around. Share this story to those you cherish most and let them feel their "presence" are important as they are part of our lives too!!

The salty coffee

He met her at a party. She was so outstanding, many guys chasing after her, while he was so normal, nobody paid attention to him.
At the end of the party, he invited her to have coffee with him, she was surprised but due to being polite, she promised. They sat in a nice coffee shop, he was too nervous to say anything, she felt uncomfortable, and she thought to herself, "Please, let me go home..."
Suddenly he asked the waiter, "Would you please give me some salt? I'd like to put it in my coffee." Everybody stared at him, so strange! His face turned red but still, he put the salt in his coffee and drank it. She asked him curiously, "Why you have this hobby?" He replied, "When I was a little boy, I lived near the sea, I liked playing in the sea, I could feel the taste of the sea, just like the taste of the salty coffee. Now every time I have the salty coffee, I always think of my childhood, think of my hometown, I miss my hometown so much, I miss my parents who are still living there." While saying that tears filled his eyes. She was deeply touched. That's his true feeling, from the bottom of his heart. A man who can tell out his homesickness, he must be a man who loves home, cares about home, has responsibility of home... Then she also started to speak, spoke about her faraway hometown, her childhood, her family.
That was a really nice talk, also a beautiful beginning of their story. They continued to date. She found that actually he was a man who meets all her demands; he had tolerance, was kind hearted, warm, careful. He was such a good person but she almost missed him! Thanks to his salty coffee! Then the story was just like every beautiful love story, the princess married to the prince, and then they were living the happy life... And, every time she made coffee for him, she put some salt in the coffee, as she knew that's the way he liked it.
After 40 years, he passed away, left her a letter which said, "My dearest, please forgive me, forgive my whole life's lie. This was the only lie I said to you---the salty coffee. Remember the first time we dated? I was so nervous at that time, actually I wanted some sugar, but I said salt. It was hard for me to change so I just went ahead. I never thought that could be the start of our communication! I tried to tell you the truth many times in my life, but I was too afraid to do that, as I have promised not to lie to you for anything... Now I'm dying, I afraid of nothing so I tell you the truth, I don't like the salty coffee, what a strange bad taste... But I have had the salty coffee for my whole life! Since I knew you, I never feel sorry for anything I do for you. Having you with me is my biggest happiness for my whole life. If I can live for the second time, still want to know you and have you for my whole life, even though I have to drink the salty coffee again."
Her tears made the letter totally wet. Someday, someone asked her, "What's the taste of salty coffee?" She replied, "It's sweet."


Pass this to everyone because love is not to forget but to forgive, not to see but understand, not to hear but to listen, not to let go but HOLD ON!!!!

The love letter

I was always a little in awe of Great-aunt Stephina Roos. Indeed, as children we were all frankly terrified of her. The fact that she did not live with the family, preferring her tiny cottage and solitude to the comfortable but rather noisy household where we were brought up-added to the respectful fear in which she was held.We used to take it in turn to carry small delicacies which my mother had made down from the big house to the little cottage where Aunt Stephia and an old colored maid spent their days. Old Tnate Sanna would open the door to the rather frightened little messenger and would usher him-or her - into the dark voor-kamer, where the shutters were always closed to keep out the heat and the flies. There we would wait, in trembling but not altogether unpleasant.She was a tiny little woman to inspire so much veneration. She was always dressed in black, and her dark clothes melted into the shadows of the voor-kamer and made her look smaller than ever. But you felt. The moment she entered. That something vital and strong and somehow indestructible had come in with her, although she moved slowly, and her voice was sweet and soft.She never embraced us. She would greet us and take out hot little hands in her own beautiful cool one, with blue veins standing out on the back of it, as though the white skin were almost too delicate to contain them.
Tante Sanna would bring in dishes of sweet, sweet, sticky candy, or a great bowl of grapes or peaches, and Great-aunt Stephina would converse gravely about happenings on the farm ,and, more rarely, of the outer world.When we had finished our sweetmeats or fruit she would accompany us to the stoep, bidding us thank our mother for her gift and sending quaint, old-fashioned messages to her and the Father. Then she would turn and enter the house, closing the door behind, so that it became once more a place of mystery.
As I grew older I found, rather to my surprise, that I had become genuinely fond of my aloof old great-aunt. But to this day I do not know what strange impulse made me take George to see her and to tell her, before I had confided in another living soul, of our engagement. To my astonishment, she was delighted."An Englishman,"she exclaimed."But that is splendid, splendid. And you,"she turned to George,"you are making your home in this country? You do not intend to return to England just yet?"She seemed relieved when she heard that George had bought a farm near our own farm and intended to settle in South Africa. She became quite animated, and chattered away to him.After that I would often slip away to the little cottage by the mealie lands. Once she was somewhat disappointed on hearing that we had decided to wait for two years before getting married, but when she learned that my father and mother were both pleased with the match she seemed reassured.
Still, she often appeared anxious about my love affair, and would ask questions that seemed to me strange, almost as though she feared that something would happen to destroy my romance. But I was quite unprepared for her outburst when I mentioned that George thought of paying a lightning visit to England before we were married."He must not do it,"she cried."Ina, you must not let him go. Promise me you will prevent him."she was trembling all over. I did what I could to console her, but she looked so tired and pale that I persuaded her to go to her room and rest, promising to return the next day.When I arrived I found her sitting on the stoep. She looked lonely and pathetic, and for the first time I wondered why no man had ever taken her and looked after her and loved her. Mother had told me that Great-aunt Stephina had been lovely as a young girl, and although no trace of that beauty remained, except perhaps in her brown eyes, yet she looked so small and appealing that any man, one felt, would have wanted to protect her.She paused, as though she did not quite know how to begin.
Then she seemed to give herself, mentally, a little shake. "You must have wondered ", she said, "why I was so upset at the thought of young George's going to England without you. I am an old woman, and perhaps I have the silly fancies of the old, but I should like to tell you my own love story, and then you can decide whether it is wise for your man to leave you before you are married."


"I was quite a young girl when I first met Richard Weston. He was an Englishman who boarded with the Van Rensburgs on the next farm, four or five miles from us. Richard was not strong. He had a weak chest, and the doctors had sent him to South Africa so that the dry air could cure him. He taught the Van Rensburg children, who were younger than I was, though we often played together, but he did this for pleasure and not because he needed money.
"We loved one another from the first moment we met, though we did not speak of our love until the evening of my eighteenth birthday. All our friends and relatives had come to my party, and in the evening we danced on the big old carpet which we had laid down in the barn. Richard had come with the Van Rensburgs, and we danced together as often as we dared, which was not very often, for my father hated the Uitlanders. Indeed, for a time he had quarreled with Mynheer Van Rensburg for allowing Richard to board with him, but afterwards he got used to the idea, and was always polite to the Englishman, though he never liked him."That was the happiest birthday of my life, for while we were resting between dances Richard took me outside into the cool, moonlit night, and there, under the stars ,he told me he loved me and asked me to marry him. Of course I promised I would, for I was too happy to think of what my parents would say, or indeed of anything except Richard was not at our meeting place as he had arranged. I was disappointed but not alarmed, for so many things could happen to either of us to prevent out keeping our tryst. I thought that next time we visited the Van Ransburgs, I should hear what had kept him and we could plan further meetings…"So when my father asked if I would drive with him to Driefontein I was delighted. But when we reached the homestead and were sitting on the stoep drinking our coffee, we heard that Richard had left quite suddenly and had gone back to England. His father had died, and now he was the heir and must go back to look after his estates.
"I do not remember very much more about that day, except that the sun seemed to have stopped shining and the country no longer looked beautiful and full of promise, but bleak and desolate as it sometimes does in winter or in times of drought. Late that afternoon, Jantje, the little Hottentot herd boy, came up to me and handed me a letter , which he said the English baas had left for me. It was the only love letter I ever received, but it turned all my bitterness and grief into a peacefulness which was the nearest I could get, then, to happiness. I knew Richard still loved me, and somehow, as long as I had his letter, I felt that we could never be really parted, even if he were in England and I had to remain on the farm. I have it yet, and though I am an old, tired woman, it still gives me hope and courage."
"I must have been a wonderful letter, Aunt Stephia,"I saidThe old lady came back from her dreams of that far-off romance."Perhaps," she said, hesitating a little, "perhaps, my dear, you would care to read it ?""I should love to , Aunt Stephia,"I said gentlyShe rose at once and tripped into the house as eagerly as a young girl. When she came back she handed me a letter, faded and yellow with age, the edges of the envelope worn and frayed as though it had been much handled. But when I came to open it I found that the seal was unbroken."Open it ,open it,"said Great-aunt Stephia, and her voice was shakingI broke the seal and read.
It was not a love letter in the true sense of the word, but pages of the minutest directions of how"my sweetest Phina"was to elude her father's vigilance, creep down to the drift at night and there meet Jantje with a horse which would take her to Smitsdorp. There she was to go to "my true friend, Henry Wilson",who would give her money and make arrangements for her to follow her lover to Cape Town and from there to England ," where, my love, we can he be married at once. But if, my dearest, you are not sure that you can face lift with me in a land strange to you, then do not take this important step, for I love you too much to wish you the smallest unhappiness. If you do not come, and if I do not hear from you, then I shall know that you could never be happy so far from the people and the country which you love. If, however, you feel you can keep your promise to me, but are of too timid and modest a journey to England unaccompanied, then write to me, and I will, by some means, return to fetch my bride."
I read no further."But Aunt Phina!"I gasped. "Why…why…?"The old lady was watching me with trembling eagerness, her face flushed and her eyes bright with expectation."Read it aloud, my dear,"she said."I want to hear every word of it. There was never anyone I could trust…Uitlanders were hated in my young days…I could not ask anyone."


"But, Auntie, don't you even know what he wrote?"The old lady looked down, troubled and shy like a child who has unwittingly done wrong."No, dear," she said, speaking very low."You see, I never learned to read.

Myanmar love story

10th grade
As I sat there in English class, I stared at the girl next to me. She was my so called"best friend". I stared at her long, silky hair, and wished she was mine. But she didn't notice me like that, and I knew it.
After class, she walked up to me and asked me for the notes she had missed the day before and handed them to her. She said "thanks" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.
11th grade
The phone rang. On the other end, it was her. She was in tears, mumbling on and on about how her love had broke her heart. She asked me to come over because she didn't want to be alone, so I did. As I sat next to her on the sofa, I stared at her soft eyes, wishing she was mine. After 2 hours, one Drew Barrymore movie, and three bags of chips, she decided to go to sleep.
She looked at me, said "thanks" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.
Senior year
The day before prom she walked to my locker. "My date is sick" she said; he's not going to go well, I didn't have a date, and in 7th grade, we made a promise that if neither of us had dates, we would go together just as "best friends". So we did. Prom night, after everything was over, I was standing at her front door step! I stared at her as she smiled at me and stared at me with her crystal eyes. I want her to be mine, but she isn't think of me like that, and I know it. Then she said "I had the best time, thanks!" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.
Graduation Day
A day passed, then a week, then a month. Before I could blink, it was graduation day. I watched as her perfect body floated like an angel up on stage to get her diploma. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn't notice me like that, and I knew it. Before everyone went home, she came to me in her smock and hat, and cried as I hugged her. Then she lifted her head from my shoulder and said, "you're my best friend, thanks" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.
A Few Years Later
Now I sit in the pews of the church. That girl is getting married now. I watched her say "I do" and drive off to her new life, married to another man. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn`t see me like that, and I knew it. But before she drove away, she came to me and said "you came!". She said "thanks" and kissed me on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.
Funeral
Years passed, I looked down at the coffin of a girl who used to be my "best friend". At the service, they read a diary entry she had wrote in her high school years. This is what it read:


I stare at him wishing he was mine, but he doesn't notice me like that, and I know it. I want to tell him, I want him to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love him but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why. I wish he would tell me he loved me!
I wish I did too... I thought to my self, and I cried.
I Love You
Send this to all the people that you love! Even if you dont love someone send it to them....just to let them no that your thinking about them!!

The hardest thing I had to say

It all started when I was 6 years old. While I was playing outside on my farm in California, I met a boy. He was an average kind of boy who teased you and then you chased them and beat them up. After that first meeting in which I beat him up we kept on meeting and beating each other up at the fence. That only lasted for a little while though. We would meet at the fence all the time and we were always together.
I would tell him all my secrets. He was very quiet he would just listen to what I had to say. I found him easy to talk to and I could talk to him about everything. In school we had separate friends but when we got home we would always talk about what happened in school. One day I said to him that a guy I liked hurt me and broke my heart. He just comforted me and said everything would be okay. He gave me words of encouragement and helped me get over him. I was happy and thought of him as a real friend. But I knew that there was something else about him that I liked. I thought of it that night and figured it was just a friend kinda thing that I was feeling.
All through high school and even through graduation we're always together and of course I thought of it as being friends. But I knew deep inside that I really felt differently. On graduation night even though we had different dates to the prom I wanted to be with him. That night after everybody went home I went to his house and wanted to tell him that I wanted to see him. Well, that night was my big chance and all I did was just sit there with him watching the stars and talking about what I was going to do and what he was going to do. I looked into his eyes and listened to him talk about what his dream was. How he wanted to get married and settle down. He said how he wanted to be rich and successful. All I could do was to tell him my dream and cuddle next to him.
I went home hurting because I didn't tell him how I was feeling. I wanted to tell him so bad that I loved him but I was too scared and frightened. I let my feelings go and told myself that someday I would tell him just how I felt. All through college I wanted to tell him but he always had someone with him. After graduation he got a job in New York, I was happy for him but at the same time I was sad to see him go. I was sad also because I didn't tell him how I felt. But I couldn't let him know now that he was leaving for his big job. So I just kept it to myself and watched him go on the plane. I cried as I hugged him for what I felt was going to be the last time. I went home that night and cried my eyes out. I felt hurt that I didn't tell him what I had inside my heart.
Well, I got a job as a secretary and then worked my way to a computer analyst. I was proud of what I had accomplished. One day I got a letter with an invitation to a marriage. It was from him, I was happy and sad at the same time. Now I know that I could never be with him and that we could only be friends. I went to the wedding the next month. It was a big occasion. The big church wedding and the reception at the hotel. I met the bride and of course him. I fell in love one more time. But I held back so it wouldn't spoil what should be the happiest day in his life. I tried to have fun that night but it was killing me inside watching him being so happy and me trying to be happy covering up my sadness tears inside of me.
I left New York feeling that I did the right thing. Before I left on the flight, he came running out of nowhere and said his good-byes and how he was very happy to see me. I came home and just tried to forget about what went on in New York. I had to go on with my life. As the years went on, we wrote to each other on what was going on and how he had missed talking to me. On one occasion he never wrote back to me at all. I was getting worried as to why he hadn't written anything for a long time after I had already written 6 letters to him. Well, just when everything seemed hopeless and sad in my life, I got a note that said: "meet me at the fence where we used to talk about things". I went and saw him there. I was happy to see him, but he was broken-hearted and sad inside. We hugged until we couldn't breathe anymore.
Then he told me about the divorce and why he hadn't written for a long time. He cried until he couldn't cry anymore. Finally, we went back to the house and talked and laughed about what I had been going and to catch up on old times. But in all of this, I couldn't tell him how I felt about him. In the days that followed, he had fun and forgot about all his problem and his divorce. I fell in love again with him. When it came time for him to leave back to New York, I went to see him off and cried. I hated to see him leave. He promised to see me every time he could get a vacation. I couldn't wait for him to come so I could be with him. We would always have fun when we were together.
One day he didn't show up like he said he would. I figured that he might have been busy. The days turned into months and I just forgot about it. Then I got a call one day from a lawyer in New York. The lawyer said that he had died in a car accident going to the airport. And that it took this long till everything was settled. It broke my heart. I was shocked about what took place. Now I knew why he didn't come that day. Again, I was broken-hearted. I cried that night, cried tears of sadness and heartache. Asking questions why did this happen to a kind guy like him?
I gathered my things and went to New York for the reading of his will. Of course, things were given to his family and his ex-wife. I finally got to meet her since the last time we met at the wedding. She explained to me how he was and how he always provided. But he was always unhappy. She would always try everything but she couldn't get him happy, as he was that night at their wedding. When the will was read, the one thing that was given to me was a diary. It was a diary that of his life. I cried as it was given to me. I didn't know what to think. Why was this given to me? I took it and flew back to California. As I flew on the plane I remembered the good times that we had together. I started reading the diary and what was written.
The diary was started with the day we first met. I read on till I started to cry. The diary told of him saying that he had fallen in love with me that day I was broken-hearted. But he was too afraid to tell me what he had felt. That is why he was so quiet and liked to listen to me. It told of how he wanted to tell me so many times, but was too afraid to say anything. It told of when he went to New York and fell in love with another. How the happiest time he had was seeing me and dancing with me at the wedding. He said he imagined it was our wedding. How he was always unhappy till he had no choice but to divorce his wife. How the best time in his life was to read the letters written to him by me. Finally, the diary ended when it said, "today I will tell her I love her". It was the day he was killed. The day I was going to finally find out what was really in his heart.


If you love someone, don't wait till tomorrow to tell him/her. Maybe that next day will never come at all.

The wedding vows

"When I was six years old I met him in the playground and he came up to me with a daisy, just the one, and knelt on both knees and asked me to marry him. So I pushed him over then ran away. Two days later he came over and asked if he could play cops and robbers with me and from that day on we played everyday.
At 11 on my first day of Secondary school I was so nervous but at lunch time he came to find me, and we sat down and ate lunch together. We did this everyday for an entire year. You were the first person I told about everything, about my crushes, about my lessons and about all the people I hated, and when I was 13 and thought I was the only one who had never been kissed, you offered to show me how, and by the tree in your backgarden we shared our first kiss.
At 15 we went to our first proper house party, and I got drunk. Even though I made a fool of myself you were there to help me stand strong. You didnt judge and you didnt make fun.
Over the next year we began to seperate, made different friends. I got my first serious boyfriend and you went through quite a few girlfriends. And then it got to May and that meant the prom. Everything had been arranged, I'd been getting my outfit for months and then the day before I found out my boyfriend had cheated on me. The first person I turned to was you. You turned up at my door with a bouquet of roses and a vintage 1950's car.
I laughed that nightI cried that night
We had three glorious yars together, when everyday I would smile. Even on the last when your mother stood up, in the church infornt of your coffin and began reading from your diary:
"I saw you when I was six stood by the bench in a blue checked dress and daisy shoes and I needed to give an other daisy just because.... Becuase i loved you from that day on"
His wedding vows written the day after prom, that I will never get to hear."

Tragic Love story

Once upon a time, there was once a guy who was very much in love with this girl. This romantic guy folded 1,000 pieces of papercranes as a gift to his girl. Although, at that time he was just a small executive in his company, his future doesn't seemed too bright, they were very happy together. Until one day, his girl told him she was going to Paris and will never come back. She also told him that she cannot visualise any future for the both of them, so let's go their own ways there and then... heartbroken, the guy agreed.
When he regained his confidence, he worked hard day and night, slogging his body and mind just to make something out of himself. Finally with all these hardwork and with the help of friends, this guy had set up his own company...
"You never fail until you stop trying." he always told himself. "I must make it in life!"One rainy day, while this guy was driving, he saw an elderly couple sharing an umbrella in the rain walking to some destination. Even with the umbrella, they were still drenched. It didn't take him long to realise those were his ex-girlfriend's parents. With a heart in getting back at them, he drove slowly beside the couple, wanting them to spot him in his luxury sedan. He wanted them to know that he wasn't the same anymore, he had his own company, car, condo, etc. He had made it in life!
Before the guy can realise, the couple was walking towards a cemetary,and he got out of his car and followed them...and he saw his ex-girlfriend, a photograph of her smiling sweetly as ever at him from her tombstone... and he saw his precious papercranes in a bottle placed beside her tomb. Her parents saw him. He walked over and asked them why this had happened. They explained, she did not leave for France at all. She was stricken ill with cancer. In her heart, she had believed that he will make it someday, but she did not want her illness to be his obstacle ... therefore she had chosen to leave him.
She had wanted her parents to put his papercranes beside her, because, if the day comes when fate brings him to her again he can take some of those back with him. The guy just wept ...the worst way to miss someone is to be sitting right beside them but knowing you can't have them and will never see them again.The End."
A tragic story that perhaps happens only in the movies. At the end of the day, money is money is money but love is divine. In our quest for our material wealth, take time to make time for our loved ones. There will be a time when we have only memories to cling to.Take this weekend to show our "love" to all that are close to us

Only Love

It's a cold February night. People are bustling through the streets, either pulling up their coat collars or wrapping scarves around their necks, trying to stay warm.
It's so cold today.I'm standing at my window, looking at the people moving like little dots. Standing in a heated room, I'm beginning to pity those people. Why don't they go home? Do they plan on wandering until morning?
"Almost time to go home! My boyfriend must be going crazy." One of the nurses breathe a sign of relief. "Still needs to work overtime on Valentine's Day. It's so unfair!"
"You are fortunate." Another nurse says. "Some people don't have anyone waiting for them."
"You mean Dr. Shu?"Like Sherlock Holmes, my ears perk up when I hear my name."Do you remember how she lost control on this day last year?""Of course I do." A nurse shudders. "I've never seen Dr. Shu like that. Crying and yelling, like she was crazy."They are talking about how I was last year. They are correct. I was out of control, like they said."You can't blame Dr. Shu. If my boyfriend died in front of my eyes, I would probably go crazy as well.""Keep it down. She hasn't left work yet. She might hear you." The two nurses are too late. I heard the entire conversation through the canvas wall."Dr. Shu, what are you doing standing here?"
Just as I was deciding whether or not to reveal myself, another nurse exposed me. I awkwardly step out. The 2 nurses who discussed me start to blush. Their faces became redder than the bow on Valentine's Day chocolates.
"I'm waiting to go home." I pretend that I didn't hear anything."Dr. Shu, you must have gotten too involved in your work. It's already past time to go home. See you tomorrow. Happy Valentine's Day!" She waves goodbye.
"Happy Valentine's Day." I wave back and watch the 2 nurses hurry away.
That's fine. I was ready to go home anyway. Even though no lover is waitingfor me, at least there's a lazy cat waiting for me to feed.
After I come home, the first thing I do is feed the cat. I forgot when I first had the cat. Probably since last year's Valentine's Day. At that time, I was like an abandoned cat, with eyes filled with despair. Cats don't cry, I do. That's the only difference.
"Better drink all the milk or I'll skin you." I threatened the cat. Her name is Christine, my least favorite English name. I don't know why I named the cat Christine. Christine meowed once to let me know she heard me, but her eyes are complaining about my severity. Her eyes remind me of someone I used to know, standing in front of me with eyes of rebellions.
An year ago today, I had lunch with my boyfriend and took the opportunity to complain to him.
"Today is Valentine's Day. Why didn't you give me any flowers?"
He raised his eyebrow. "Why should I give you flowers? You are not my anyone."
"Then... you should at least give me a card!" I pouted my lips, hurt by his tone.
"I know, I know. After lunch, I'll send you an e-card."
E-card. That sounds so impersonal, but that's the way he is. "You have to e-mail it to me. I'll be waiting." I excitedly smiled and planned to sneak home after lunch to check e-mail. Even though he wouldn't use any romantic words, I still looked forward to the card.
"I can't stand you women. Why do you make such a big deal out of Valentine's Day??" He grumbled while eating his food. His comment induced me to fight with him again.
"You are not romantic at all!! Don't you watch any Japanese drama?"
"Japanese drama? I only watch Discovery Channel."
"Your life is so boring." I made a face at him. "One recent drama was really good. You should have watched it."
"What's that drama called?" He didn't believe in the love portrayed in TV and movies. He always thought they were lies.
"It's called 'Story of A Century'." I gladly answered.
"What kind of trashy plot did it have?"
"What do you mean trash?? Show some respect!" I was so angry. "That drama was very touching, and the theme song was beautiful as well. It's called 'Only Love', performed by Nana Mouskouri." I wonder if he knew who Nana was.
"Nana, I know her. A Greek singer with really expensive albums."
"Her voice is worth it." Even though I secretly agreed with him, I couldn't bring myself to admit it.
"Whatever." He glanced at his watch. "I'll give you 5 minutes to tell me the plot. After that, I'm leaving."
I tried hard to explain 6 hours worth of story in just 5 minutes. The drama portrayed the love stories of 3 generations of women spanning 100 years, from 1901 to 2000. Each generation was portrayed by the same actress. The story was tear-jerking.
"What's so touching about it?" He asked, after listening to the story.
"Don't you think each generation's story is wonderful? If I have such great screen writing ability, I wouldn't be a doctor anymore. I would become a screenwriter."
"If you become a screenwriter, I bet no one would watch the show. The TV station can go out of business." He quickly interjected.
"I'm going back to work. Hurry and send me the card!" I was so mad that I went home immediately, not even finishing my coffee.
As soon as I walked in my door, I turned on my computer and go online.


Staring at the empty in-box, I began to reminisce about how we met. Maybe no one will believe me, but my boyfriend and I were actually neighbors. Our homes were only 1 wall away. Ever since we were kids, we liked to fight with each other all day long. I still remember when I moved to the country that year. Used to the city life, I couldn't get used to the simple life in the country. After school, I would just go home and do nothing. Whenever that happened, he would always come over to tease me.
"Why are you staring off into space??" He loved to pull on my hair. "You're so ugly when you're doing nothing. But you're also not pretty when you smile." In other words, I'm really ugly.
"You're the one who's ugly!" I pull back my hair. "If you think I'm so ugly, why do you visit me??"
"Can't help it. My home is right next to your home." He argued.
"Then I'll move!" The next day, I drew a line in the ground using some white chalk. A line that I forbid him to cross.
That year, we were both in the 5th grade. We couldn't stand each other and hoped the other would move away. But 5 years passed, and neither of us moved. Not only that, we got into the same high school and into the same class.
"You're that infamous couple." All the students and teachers in the school would say whenever they saw us.
"We're not!" I always tried to explain. "We're only neighbors." At that time, I hated my parents for making us live next to him."My standard is not that low." He would say. "Who wants her to be a girlfriend?? It's not like I don't have eyes."
"Yes, I know your eyes are on top of your head." I really disliked him. "Better than having eyes on the bottom of my head like you." He implied that I couldn't judge guys. At that time, I had a crush on a senior.
I didn't think that his sarcasm had a hidden meaning. After a while, I found out that the senior student had lots of girlfriends. When I cried about it, he silently passed me a handkerchief and awkwardly held me in his arms.
"I told you he wasn't any good." He roughly comforted me. I cried in his arms the whole night, and began to see him in a different way. Things began to change between us. We still fought all the time, but he started to look at me differently. And I blushed and my heart beat faster when he was near. We both knew: we fell in love with each other.
Even with this knowledge, neither of us said anything. Even though we wouldnot be able to resist and kissed each other constantly. Even though we cared about each other's every moves. Both of us refused to admit our love.
Time flew by quickly, and it was time to face separation. I chose to study medicine, and he chose physics. Yet we still couldn't separate from each other. Our parents worried that we didn't know anyone in Taipei, so they forced us to live in the same apartment building. Once again, we became neighbors. We still fought, but sometimes we fought into the bedroom. Alright, we became lovers, but we still wouldn't say we loved each other. We didn't even spend Valentine's Day together until he saw me share dinner with a man one Valentine's Day. That night, he waited for me in front of my door and said that he would take me out to dinner on Valentine's Day from then on. I have to say that he was very arrogant. But I nodded and accepted his request. Since then, we spent every Valentine's Day together. After graduation, I became an intern. He started a small computer company with some friends and became a programmer. We were busy with our own lives and had no time for a relationship. Three years later, I became a doctor, and his business began to boom. We separately moved to biggerapartments and stopped being neighbors. On the surface, we left each other. In reality, we were still together. We spent every Valentine's Day together but each year became more dreary than the next because he never told me he loved me even with all my hints.
Facing the empty in-box, I suddenly grew very angry. He wouldn't say it and wouldn't send me a card. What did he mean? Who did he think I was? I called his cell phone.
"Hello." He picked up the phone.
"I didn't receive the card." I immediately showed my displeasure.
"You didn't receive it?" He seemed really busy. "But I sent it."
He was really busy but I didn't care. "I didn't receive it. Send it again."
"Okay, I'll send you 100 times. Is that good enough??" He said with impatience. His tone further infuriated me. Is that how lovers speak to each other?
"Don't bother sending it to me. And you don't have to pick me up tonight.
I'll eat dinner by myself."
"Don't be childish, ok? I'm really busy."
"I AM childish!" I hung up the phone and tears rolled down my cheeks.
Childish?? Why didn't he consider the situation? We've gone out for so many years and spent countless Valentine's Day together. I never received any flowers nor cards from him. Now, I just want a little e-card. Is that too much to ask for??
I unplugged the phone from the wall and turned off my cell phone. I didn't want to hear his explanations. After I returned to the hospital, I instructed the receptionist not to forward me any phone calls. I wanted to concentrate on work.
Because there were so many emergencies today, I was sweating 1 hour later and forgot about our argument.
"Dr. Shu, please take a look at that patient."
As I was collecting my equipment, the shrill sound of an ambulance sounded outside the ER. When I stepped out the door, the emergency medics hurriedly wheeled in a gurney.
"What happened to him?" I asked the 1st medic. Everyone else were trying to help put the patient on the gurney. He was covered with blood.


"Car accident." The medic replied. "Very serious. He may die."
I nodded and ran to the operating room with them. When I arrived, the nurses told me that the man had already stopped breathing and also his heartbeat also stopped
"Prepare for shock." I calmly instructed the nurses. Saving people is our duty. We can't lose our calm.
But when I saw who laid on the operating table, I lost my calm. That person was my boyfriend!
"No..." I stood in shock. "NO!!!" I grabbed the paddles and continuously shocked his body. His body bounced up and down from the shocks. The scared nurses went to find another doctor, to tell him that I was crazy.
I didn't know if I was crazy or not. I just wanted to save my lover. Even though we fought all the time. Even though he never showed me his love. I still wanted to save him. He still owed me a card. He couldn't die! I threw away the paddles and began to press on his heart. I pressed with all my strength, hoping it would revive him, but he didn't wake up. He didn't even say "It hurts". He just laid there with his eyes closed, punishing me with his silence.
Dr. Jian angrily pushed me away. By that time, I couldn't see clearly anymore. I cried. I wailed. I bowled until no sounds could come out of my mouth.
"It's too late, Dr. Shu. He's already dead. I'm sorry." Dr. Jian patted me on the shoulder. They knew each other and ate together once. I introduced them.
"He can't die." I shook my head. "He can't die!!" I struggled to run to him.
"Dr. Shu, control yourself!" Dr. Jian slapped me. "I understand what you're going through, but you're a doctor."
Yes, I'm a doctor, but I'm also a regular person. How can Dr. Jian understand how I feel? I've loved him for so many years that it's become a habit. How can I just throw away a habit? Besides, he still owed me a card. "I want him to live! I want him to live!" I ran to him again and tried to knock the life back into his body.
"Take her away!" That day, I lost my control and my professionalism.
And that day happened to be Valentine's Day.
Afterwards, I asked his co-workers why he left work early that day.
They told me that after I hung up the phone, he tried to call me several times but couldn't reach me. Worried, he drove to the hospital to find me and got hit by a large truck on the way.
When I heard this, I froze. My tantrum killed him. Just because of an unmailed card, he died. After that, I lost my privilege to be childish.
Like an abandoned cat, I couldn't even cry anymore. After his death, I couldn't cry anymore, regardless of how touching the plot or how tear-jerking the dialogue. They didn't affect me anymore.
Now, I'm only left with a cat and a seldomly used computer. Stepping over the cat, I turned on the computer. Even though I know no one will send me a mail, I still hoped that someone will remember me on this day.
Meow, meow. I looked at Christine to see what's wrong. She finished her milk. I went into the kitchen to get her more milk then came back to look at the computer screen.
I have.... 100 emails! Who would be bored enough to send me 100 junk mail?
I was just about to delete them all when I received another mail, and this one said: "Because of system error, we could not send these until today.
We apologize for the delay." The sender was my ISP.
I looked at the 1st mail. It showed the send date is last year's Valentine's Day. My heart began to beat fast. Could he have sent these?
With a trembling hand, I opened the mail. The first thing that popped up was a gorgeous red rose set against green leaves. Then a beautiful melody began to play.... "Only Love". I couldn't believe it. The rose was so beautiful and the music was so dreamy. I almost thought I was in a fantasy. Most touching of all were the words underneath the rose, because the words read like a beautiful poem.
"Hwei."
That's my name.
"Knowing you so many years, I've never sent you any flowers. Today I send you a rose."
I received it and it's so beautiful.
"You know we are always fighting. We can never really open our hearts and tell each other how we feel."
Yes, but it's all your fault for being so distant.
"I know I always make you mad by the things I say."
Good that you're admitting it.
"But today I want to say to you: I'm sorry, and I love you."
I waited so many years for those words.
"And I want to tell you a good news. I finally saved enough money."
You already have enough money. Why did you need so much?
"So Hwei, let's get married!! I was afraid to propose to you, because I didn't trust in my ability to give you the good life you deserve. But now I've saved enough money so we don't have to wait anymore."
Who wanted you to wait? I'm already yours."Today, I use this card to propose to you. Will you marry me, Hwei? Will you?"
That's the content of the whole card. Like a fool, I kept reading his words and talking to him. It's like I can hear his voice and see him again.
As if it's back to 1 year ago with us constantly fighting.
The song played over and over. Repeating Nana's heartbreaking voice.
Only love can make a memory. Only love can make a moment last. You were there and all the world was young and all it's songs unsung. and I remember you then when love was all, all you were living for,and how you gave that love to me...."
The lyrics of this song fits our love so closely. When he was alive, my world was so young. Every day, I could find a something different to fight with him about. But after he left, my life is only left with memories and coldness that will never go away.
"Will you marry me?"
When I read these words, my tears unconsciously came, wetting the keyboard.
Will I? If he's in front of me, I will definitely kick him and call him a big fool. If I wasn't willing, I wouldn't have waited until today.
So I moved the cursor over the "Reply" box, and typed the response that I've already prepared for so many years - "I will."
I will - be by his side for the rest of my life. I will - fight with him forever. That is how I answered him, but the only response I got was the repeating song "Only Love."


Nevertheless, I opened every single letter, accepted every singled rose, and typed the same response: "I will."
I replied 100 times, and "Only Love" played 100 times. In this cold Valentine's night, the line that's been broken for 1 year finally got reconnected.
I answered you. What about you?

A beautiful love story

Here is an amazing love story . Read on..!He met her on a party. She was so outstanding, many guys chasing after her, while he so normal, nobody paid attention to him. At the end of the party, he invited her to have coffee with him, she was surprised, but due to being polite, she promised. They sat in a nice coffee shop, he was too nervous to say anything, she felt uncomfortable, she thought, please, let me go home.... suddenly he asked the waiter. "would you please give me some salt? I'd like to put it in my coffee." Everybody stared at him, so strange! His face turned red, but still, he put the salt in his coffee and drank it. She asked him curiously; why you have this hobby? He replied: "when I was a little boy, I was living near the sea, I like playing in the sea, I could feel the taste of the sea, just like the taste of the salty coffee. Now every time I have the salty coffee, I always think of my childhood, think of my hometown, I miss my hometown so much, I miss my parents who are still living there". While saying that tears filled his eyes. She was deeply touched.That's his true feeling, from the bottom of his heart. A man who can tell out his homesickness, he must be a man who loves home, cares about home, has responsibility of home. Then she also started to speak, spoke about her faraway hometown, her childhood, her family. That was a really nice talk, also a beautiful beginning of their story. They continued to date. She found that actually he was a man who meets all her demands; he had tolerance, was kind hearted, warm, careful. He was such a good person but she almost missed him! Thanks to his salty coffee! Then the story was just like every beautiful love story , the princess married to the prince, then they were living the happy life... And, every time she made coffee for him, she put some salt in the coffee e, as she knew that's the way he liked it. After 40 years, he passed away, left her a letter which said: "My dearest, please forgive me, forgive my whole life lie. This was the only lie I said to you---the salty coffee. Remember the first time we dated? I was so nervous at that time, actually I wanted some sugar, but I said salt It was hard for me to change so I just went ahead.I never thought that could be the start of our communication! I tried to tell you the truth many times in my life, but I was too afraid to do that, as I have promised not to lie to you for anything.. Now I'm dying, I afraid of nothing so I tell you the truth: I don't like the salty coffee, what a strange bad taste.. But I have had the salty coffee for my whole life! Since I knew you, I never feel sorry for anything I do for you. Having you with me is my biggest happiness for my whole life. If I can live for the second time, still want to know you and have you for my whole life,even though I have to drink the salty coffee again". Her tears made the letter totally wet.Someday, someone asked her: what's the taste of salty coffee?It's sweet. She replied.Love is not 2 forget but 2 forgive, not 2 c but 2 understand, not 2 hear but 2 listen, not 2 let go but 2 HOLD ON !!!! Don't ever leave the one you love for the one you like, because the one you like will leave you for the one they love. Find a guy, who calls you beautiful instead of hot. Who calls you back when you hang up on him. Who will stay awake just to watch you sleep. Who holds your hand in front of his friends.Wait for the one who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares about you and how lucky he is to have you. Wait for the one who turns to his friends and says, "...that's her."

Thursday

A love story by Trevor Wolosek

This is my story about love. This story starts at a football game on October 20, 2006, SPASH High School, i saw my friend hanging around with these two girls, one Alyssa and the other i did not know here name. I ended up putting my arm around them both, not even knowing who she was. After some time, Alyssa had said something about my Jr. High football team sucking and then Samantha (i found out here name) backed me up saying the my Jr. High was truly better. My arm was just around Samantha then, and I felt her shaking, because it was actually pretty cold out so I ended up hugging her from behind thinking maybe i will warm her up. Everyone in the circle said that Samantha looked weirded out by me doing that. The game was finally over and it was friday (Slap butt friday), so I slapped Samantha there and we went our seperate ways (lol). I went home and Samantha was picked up by her mother and she was with her brother as well. I wore a good amount of Curve Cologne and the stench was strong and Samantha had told me that her mother had asked her how many guys she was with. Samantha histarically replied, i was only with one. Her mother told her that the cologne smelt amazing. for the next month or so we talked two maybe three times. In that month I had a run in with the law and today i still am in trouble. Anyways, on December 2, 2006, Samantha's Jr. High, which is just across town from mine, was having a Formal. I wasn't sure or not if my dad would let me go because of the crime i commited, but he ended up letting me go. I ended up going to my friend Ross's house before the formal and then his parents took us to Samantha's house. We took pictures and everything, but the funny thing is in one of the pictures, Samantha is sitting on my lap with her hand on my hand, and that picture is in my wallet as i type. The guys, three guys, took a seperate vehicle to formal, and Samantha's mother drove the three girls to Formal. We the guys, arrived at formal and the driver drove way over the speed limit and yet the girls still beat us. Oh well, we arrived and went in, gave the person at the door our ticket and proceeded on in. Samantha did her thing and visited everyone and what not. Five out of the six people sat on the couch, Samantha sat on my lap and I played with her nails for some odd reason. Just letting the reader know, Samantha at this point, we're not dating. My friend Ross's date, left him and went off with some other guy. For most of the night Ross, Jason and I pretty much played jokes on Ross's date. Those were some funny moments. More towards the end of the night, Samantha and I slowed dance a lot. On the last songe of the night, we dance so ellgantly and after the song, she started to walk away. Then out of nowhere I asked her, "Where is my kiss?" I shocked myself completely when i said that. I am not the kind of person that usually asks for that. The weird part is at 11:11, that night I told Samantha to make a wish. To this day it shocks me that she wished for us to be together and that she wanted a kiss at the end of the night. After that my sister picked me up and before I left, I planted a kiss right on her cheek. The next day, we spent three hours on the phone together. We obtained information about one another and found out about each other. I spent most of that time hinting to Samantha that I wanted to go out with her. Finally, at 5:25pm on December 3, 2006, I asked Samantha out and I told her give it sometime to think about it. Right out she told me yes, and I was completely shocked and could not belive what I heard and I was so happy! From that day on, I was so thankful and even to today I still am thankful I am with her. We have gone through so much together. We are perfect for eachother! She eventually found out how I got in trouble with the law and what I did. She knew something was up before she was going out with me, yet she still said yes to me. Lord I do not know why. She stuck with me through my court time and she kept me going strong. She is an amazing person and if I was not with her today I have no idea where I would be. If anything I would be depressed and I wouldn't be fighting against, getting my life back. I have given her so much grief and so much pain and I have given her love and I have treated her like a queen. Right no I am currently living with my mother who is an hour away from Samantha. Once I get back with living with my dad Samantha and I will be better than ever. My life when I started dating Samantha was crap and I got even worse, until we figured out that we wanted our relationship to be meaningful and we wanted the relationship to last. We have ever since been trying to work everything out and get through our problems. Samantha has been keeping the relationship as straight as she can and I have just been messing things up. I do not know why she keeps coming back to me, but she does and with time I will be a better and more reliable and loving and devoted boyfriend and even someday husband to her. We share so many things together and each of those things are special to us. I have put our relationship on a roller coaster and lost all of Samantha's trust in me and I hope to gain that back when I move back to my father's. Tomorrow on June 3, 2008, we will be dating for 1 year and 6 months. For the average teenage relationship that is actually really good. Samantha and I want to remain together and eventually graduate as high school sweet hearts. I for one believe in that! I love her with all of my heart and I would not want it any other way. We are perfect for eachother and we complete one another so well. We know what the other is going through and we help the other with our problems. We express our feelings to other and try to get a long as good as we can. We have future plans together, but we are no concentrated on those plans so much. We are concentrated on getting through our lives day by day and love each other. We have put in a lot of time and effort into the relationship and we hope that one day we will end up like one of Samantha's Aunt Magie and Uncle Jeff. They met at the age of 16 and married at like 17 or 18 and to this day they are still together. We have inspiration all around us and we just need to take it in and help one another through each day.