Baby,
These past few days, I had been peppering this blogsite with hints of you. It started with a pesto right after new year, then an account of my crazed repeat playing of a song I would otherwise consider moronic had I been my usual hateful self, and a declaration of your ability to put a semi-permanent horizontal groove between my lips which romantics often dryly call ‘smile’ [a manifestation of a bodily response men of science describe as hormonal over-secretion of the hypothalamus, which I find very prosaic and insulting]. But these are inadequate if I factor in the given that my thoughts in a single day are preoccupied by nothing but images of you.
I am in love with you. Not in the idealist’s sense of a sublime, unconditional love that rivals that of God’s nor is it an abstraction that does not lend itself to corporeal ideals of feeling and sensation, however. But while I keep myself from intellectualizing it, I also avoid myself from reducing it to the level of the carnal and the base. Admittedly, though, the temptation of doing so is rather difficult to resist as touching you and being touched by you have been a decadent addiction that I simply do not have courage to withdraw from.
I do not know how ‘I am in love with you’ differs from ‘I love you’, but I guess their difference matters less now that I am already in love with you and loving you at the same time.
I was told that love does not require reasons nor logic to justify its presence. If it did, it could be because of any of the following, but love: that it is a mere image in the mind of somebody with delusional tendencies, that it’s pure and unadulterated lust, or, the most painful, that it’s all unexpelled gas that terribly needs expulsion. Experience taught me, however, that responding in the line of ‘I do not know’ to the question ‘Why do you love me?’ is naive. Nothing is more logical than finally choosing to fall [in love] despite the knowledge that the risk entailed of falling is uncalculated and that it can mean losing one’s self in the process. Still we went on, dove without any preconditions, and held our breaths while we’re free falling. It is the most logical because we were both fully aware that the sensation of flying, or free falling, is worth the risk of confronting the unknown. Jumping head on despite full knowledge of not knowing what will be can only be a result of careful contemplation.
Free falling by myself was an exhilarating experience; now that the experience is shared, I know it is going to be more exciting than it used to be.
You’ve bugged me for reasons why I love you; my responses and how I said them were less serious than I would have wanted to. But I have always been serious.
January 13, 2011, Rm 202 Media Center, UP Diliman
Going against the current 