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My Ch@t Garden
My Affil|ates Garden
My W|sh Garden
♥ The kids healthy and happy
♥A beautiful ring
♥ His laughter
♥ My laughter
♥ Our love for eternity
♥ The old me to come back
♥
♥ His laughter
♥ My laughter
♥ Our love for eternity
♥ The old me to come back
My Arch|ve Garden
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Friday, September 16, 2011
I don't really have much to write about these days.
I find myself a bore indulging in repetitive self pity.
Somehow, it managed to keep me sane; for a while.
Lots of stuff are happening these few months. And the next.
And with every additional new, unpredictable event, we seem to be adding more strain to our somewhat blossoming love life.
I guess this is life.
Never a bed of roses, yet the thorns simply irritates you.
The only saving grace is that with age comes wisdom and experience; somehow we managed to scrape past whatever disagreement and unhappiness without much harm.
It's just that... I'd wish for more.
More time, more tolerance, more patience.
And less of anger.
When would the day come when:
A) I get myself immuned to anger indirectly directed at me
B) I don't see anger anymore
C) We could compromise about the method of stress relieve
We've been each other's punchbags for the past few months; thankfully both of us are somewhat unscathed, albeit sore.
I pray that in the next few months to come, the punchbags would make way for massage chairs; wouldn't it be fantastic if we could do that, honey?
Sigh.
Six more weeks.
It's all we need to a good night's sleep.
I find myself a bore indulging in repetitive self pity.
Somehow, it managed to keep me sane; for a while.
Lots of stuff are happening these few months. And the next.
And with every additional new, unpredictable event, we seem to be adding more strain to our somewhat blossoming love life.
I guess this is life.
Never a bed of roses, yet the thorns simply irritates you.
The only saving grace is that with age comes wisdom and experience; somehow we managed to scrape past whatever disagreement and unhappiness without much harm.
It's just that... I'd wish for more.
More time, more tolerance, more patience.
And less of anger.
When would the day come when:
A) I get myself immuned to anger indirectly directed at me
B) I don't see anger anymore
C) We could compromise about the method of stress relieve
We've been each other's punchbags for the past few months; thankfully both of us are somewhat unscathed, albeit sore.
I pray that in the next few months to come, the punchbags would make way for massage chairs; wouldn't it be fantastic if we could do that, honey?
Sigh.
Six more weeks.
It's all we need to a good night's sleep.