Reminisce

Procrastination is an art; I'm the Donatello of procrastination. Two weeks and here I am with a presentation, assignment, studying and class preparation all due tomorrow. Oh, and here I am blogging again after two months to spice up the challenge. If I didn't know myself too well, I would have blamed the circumstances for the never-ending-messed-up mood swings and the agonizing mental and emotional suffering. Anyhow, who am I to complain?

Rifling through the old papers with the intention of plagiarizing anything in the way, I found it. The paper in your handwriting that I have always avoided in fear of consuming one of the very few remains of my good memories. Here it is in my hands again; addressed to me; To Ingy. Only God knows how much I hate it when people misspell my name, but you’re the exception. I put the paper back again; I don’t want to deplete the memories of it. All what you've taught me is carved deep in my being. My existence to you is null, but this is how I want it to be; for I will be owing each and every success in my life to your existence. I owe you a debt of a thousand light years of gratitude for all what you've done to me.

Time to stop reminiscing. I don’t deserve that pleasure of your memory.

The Power of Appreciation

I stood there watching her. About 3 meters away, I caught her looking at the red rose in her hand and smiling. I couldn't help preventing the muscles of my mouth from stretching, revealing the row of metal wires and pieces clutched to my teeth in a mouth that looks more like a deserted construction area than a decent mouth.

The sight of her is blissful. The smile is so bright and sincere, it literally reflects the feeling within. Contagious. But this is not why i'm smiling. If she'd only realize that less than 3 meters away someone is watching and feeling exactly the same. The red rose is a gesture of appreciation. No, no one gave me a red rose as a earnest promise of eternal love or whatsoever. I've been appreciated. Not from a boyfriend, friend or whosoever; it doesn't matter who. I've been appreciated. Not in the same sense but in the same sensibility.  My efforts have been acknowledged and I'm appreciated; and it feels incredible. The feeling is as radiant as the smile on her face. If only our eyes can meet, I would tell her that I've received a gesture of appreciation just like the rose her fingers are holding so dearly.

I can see her calling on that huckster, buying that shoddy pack of plastic sheets that are of no particular use. Her smile now has transformed into a cute chuckle engaging in a short conversation with the huckster. Yeah, I know that feeling too. I look into my hand to find that condemning big pack of marshmallows half-empty. I don't even like marshmallows that much! One of the drawbacks of the emotions induced is that it causes an urge to spend money on useless things (No offence intended, marshmallow lovers!). 

I follow her with my eyes as she blends into the crowd. The face of the girl starts fading away from my memory. But the power of her smile is still lingering in my being. The memory of that day, at that place, of us  sharing the same feeling of gratitude towards the person who cared enough to gesture appreciation will remain, forever.

I thank the person who drew that radiant smile on your face. I thank God for bringing us together to share that feeling and to make me realize how blessed I am I had the chance to do something and be appreciated for.

Appreciation is such a lovely word .. and gesture. I hope the notes I left you would fit in as a gesture of appreciation for all what you've done for me .. and for your appreciation. Thank you.

by *CozyComfyCouch