Growing up I
always thought true love was fairytale like, happy endings and prince charmings.
I thought it was all about getting in trouble and having your night and shining
armor to save you. I thought it was surpassing an evil witch and happy endings.
I thought true love was red roses, expensive gifts, a kiss in the rain, deep
explanations and a good story to tell. But growing up I’ve realized it was not
about that at all.
See because
true love for me is having ugly selfies, late night texts and getting mad when
one falls asleep ahead. It’s getting mad over stupid things and breaking-up for
nonsense reasons but eventually can’t resist each other’s presence. It’s saying
all the wrong things at the worst moment. It’s being honest even if it hurts.
It’s tears from laughter, tears from pain. It’s never running out of things to
talk about and being comfortable in the silence of things. True love is
watching the lamest movies together and arguing over who pays the jeepney fare.
It’s spilling your feelings at 12AM when you should be asleep. It’s hearing
that song on the radio that always make you smile. It’s nothing like any
storybook you have ever read and it’s the worst story you could ever imagine
but thank God it worked out anyways. True love is never losing the magic. True
love is believing everything is worth it through it all.
I like my
definition better anyways.
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