Sure thing

I just arrived at the office before the rain showered. I could grab a cup of coffee (which I did anyway, though delayed), but your response to the morning chats before work is more than enough to warm me, even if you are there and not physically here.

My daily waking up, sleeping, and drama in between, big or just Sweet Nothings, come with updating. It has become our habit, both knowing each other’s whereabouts, lows, and pride.

Last night we talked about how computers stain our eyes, and the other we talked about the Batud hunting I experienced that was only an extra bit of the three-hour walk into the woods of San Antonio, RTR, and another three back to the community center.

Even the most random and plain stuff we talk about because everything concerning the other is relevant to this connection, like a cup of coffee to the toughest of mornings.

This connection that’s been seven months is both thrill and fear (it is a given) and acting not excessively needy although wanting every inch of you. It is a plane-away relationship, but it’s working.

I had a lump in my throat right after we departed in Siargao. By then, I knew I would trade for countless coffee dates, late nights silly for hugs, and straight-eye assurance as we discover the ins and outs of each other.

Once, you asked how I define love. I did not delay my answer. I said love is sure. Like us, this is sure.