An Open Letter to the One Who Loves Me

Dear you,

A couple of weeks ago, you said that you love me, and you’ve been telling me that every single day since. I have no idea how we got to this point but hey, I’m not complaining. The universe indeed has its way of bitch-slapping us. Just when I had thrown the towel in on this whole relationship thing, you came into my life with a huge camera bag strapped around your body.

I must admit, I wasn’t into you at all. Alcohol had taken over my brain that night, hence, I replied to your message. And please don’t think I’m making excuses. Since the beginning, I have been very honest about the fact that I really didn’t like you that much. I actually constantly found my self questioning why I was even giving you my time of the day. I mean, seriously, there are many reasons why I shouldn’t like you.

First and foremost, you may be two years older than me and have gone to military service already but I swear, I look like your ‘ate’. A waaayyy older ‘ate’. Some friends even thought I have gone the cougar route when I introduced you to them! Well, everyone knows that I like older, mature guys who can dominate me. You certainly aren’t one of them, boy!

Second, and I don’t mean to sound harsh or rude but… you just aren’t my type. I have always dreamed of dating someone who looks like Takeshi Kaneshiro or Jo In-Sung and I hate to break your heart but no. You’re cute, sure, but baby penguins and the font comic sans are, too. Worry not though because looks aren’t really that important to me. After all, I looked like a sun-burnt Aiza Seguerra growing up.

Third, this whole cultural difference thing is kind of crazy. You scratch your head and awkwardly smile when I speak in my mother tongue and your English is very uhm, cute, albeit confusing sometimes. You put hot sauce in everything that you eat and cringe at the thought of eating balut. Shut your face. I love my balut.

Fourth, you’re still a student. Enough said.

In an alternate universe, I would’ve dismissed you as another guy who just wants to get into my pants, but this is reality and real things happen.

Since the day we’ve met, you have been my alarm clock every morning. Regardless of what time I need to wake up, you would insist on calling me up so I won’t be late for work (although we both know that it doesn’t really help much). You always manage to make me smile when we meet, more so because you would always bring me cake – and God knows how much I love cake.

You’d learn some of my favorite songs and sing them to me even though I don’t ask for it. Hell, you even sang one of my Rico Blanco faves despite the fact that you don’t really know who he is and what his former band was.

Even if I slap you really hard, or kick you on the shin, you don’t complain. I embarrass you in front of my friends and you just shrug. You have seen me get super drunk, puking my guts out like there was no tomorrow and you didn’t give a shit. Instead, you went into the ladies’ room, banged on my cubicle and yelled, “Kriiing! Mahal kitaaaa!” – yes, in Tagalog. You will deny this, course, but sorry, we have witnesses who were sober unlike us.

Now, pretty much all of my friends like you. My workmates adore you. Even my family wants to see more of you. I don’t know how but you managed to sneak into my life while I was busy shooting and editing. Unlike most guys I know, you are really honest about your feelings (sometimes creepily so, in fact) and I attribute that to the fact that you just learned English three years ago. Subject-verb-object and that’s it. No more flowery words to make you sound like “the man”.

I appreciate, too, the fact that you tell me that I’m pretty/amazing/the best anytime you can. You take care of me like I’m a ripped jeans-wearing princess. More than an ego thing, I feel appreciated. And loved. Honestly, I have never felt this much loved by anyone in my life. So thank you… For being there, for being my answered prayer.

Wait, what have you done to me? I’m starting to sound like a deranged high school kid struck with Cupid’s arrow. I cringe at my own cheese. But I can deny it no longer. I think I have fallen for you, too. You have stolen my heart in more ways that one so you better keep it because it’s more precious than a pink diamond.

And just so you know, if you hurt me in any way, I’m seriously going to punch you in the face. I’m not kidding and you know it. I got tons of friends to back me up as well so if you don’t want to be deported back to your homeland and blacklisted in my country, better be good to me, okay? Good.

I hope you’re ready for a rollercoaster ride. Promise, it will be fun!

Love (and I do mean it…),
KRING aka your sassy girl

(c) Kring Elenzano 040110 530

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Whew. By the way, yes. I finally have an answer to this. CAN YOU IMAGINE?! Hahaha! Also, NBSB no more! ^^;; Alanis Morisette’s Head Over Feet and Chantal Kreviazuk’s Feels Like Home are like… sooo apt right now.

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