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My Tw|t Garden
Thursday, July 12, 2012

It's 1.39am and I'm awake.




I gave my feverish eldest son some antipyretic medication.




Stared at how much he has grown over the years.




Then continued to stare at my second born for a little while, wondering how on earth did I end up with two wonderful boys like them.




After much emotional moments, I went back to my room where my baby girl was sleeping.




She looks beautiful with her tiny bolster in her embrace.




She cried a little, maybe due to a nightmare, but was soon back to sleep after some soothing cuddle.




I have three angels. Sent from heaven. Bestowed to me. So I could care and nurture them the way God wanted me to.




I suddenly feel really blessed.




Despite the occasional sadness and turbulent, I feel really loved by these little angels, even as they sleep.




Then I crept up to the man who'd made all of them possible... And I stared at him for the longest time.




This man... He had given me more than I asked for in this lifetime.




Not all the good, but enough for me to make me who I am today.




It's true I still feel the tinge of sadness overcoming my soul as I remembered...




Yet I can't help but love this very man who'd given me sorrow.




He looks so fragile when asleep.




Like he needs a shelter or some hot soup to warm his heart.




This man had weathered much since birth...




And I realized that he never had what our children have, and it'd forever leave a scar in his life.




This scar is meant for me to sooth. But how much should I take to complete my mission in life, that God has given me?




I love him to bits, yet I'm troubled by my unhealed, broken heart.




We've just finished a movie. At home of course.




Actually it ended with me finishing up the movie and that silly man falling asleep on the couch in the most awkward position.




It's a silly movie: Hall Pass.




Yet it taught me meaningful stuff.




That it takes two hands to clap and two very much in love couples to make a marriage work, monogamously.




I can never rewrite history.




Nor can I erase everything that'd happen.




I can curse the perpetrator my whole life.




Yet the fact that she had taken part of my happiness away would never change.





I'm living a much ironic life.




And between love and hate, I choose the former.




Not because I'm a forgiving saint who speaks of love, but because I truly feel that there's a lesson I'm made to take home and not let history repeat.




I'm scared.




And I've no one to say it to.




Because I've painted myself to be such a strong woman, even he's believing it, I cannot afford to let others know that I'm truly scared.




Like a drenched homeless puppy left out in the cold, I'm helpless.




At the mercy of what fate has in store for me.




I try not to think too much.




After all, I've three wonderful angels to help me get through all these.




What more could I ask for?




Time to check on his fever again.




I wish for everyone to have a happy, monogamous marriage. Everyone.




Good night cyber world.