My Journal
At the Bedroom
Oct. 5, 4:00 PM

Alone, I tried to make contact
I'm glad that he acknowledged
I felt I needed to explain myself
My behaviors
Spiritual man that he is
He dismissed explanations
He understood
Though I felt the annoyed voice
He was very pleasant to say he's not
I wonder in jest if white lies are not sin by themselves
But then again convictions are personal, I suppose.
He was also somewhat careful of what to say
Answered directly, no unnecessary statements, didn't lead
I somehow knew why. . .
Again, I was awed
But gladly, I see him now on a different plane
The way he wanted me to see him and to treat him
The way God would want me to see him and treat him.

Without him asking, I told him how i was coping
As if he cared, I wanted to believe that he did
He told me not to dwell so much on my fantasies
I liked the term he used - fantasies
Because they really were,
Products of imagination
Something which will never be.

But I would have preferred him calling it longing
As he did the first time
Realization struck me hard
Fantasies, they probably were to him
For me, the emotions were real
Though really, really foolish

Amidst the jargons, my sanity bailed me out
Once again, by God's grace I am rising
I am moving, until when, I really don't know
For even as I write, I feel
Sweet emotions still contain me,
Sober they may be, I pray that God may take full control of them
In biding, he courteously asked
To lessen my communications with him,
To the way we were before

I respect and I heed. . . .
Because I love