I guess there's no point being vague about it.
(I've written and re-written this entry 4 times.)
They say 13 is an unlucky number. But the thing is, today marks the 13 months that Jason and I have been together, and I was thinking a lot about luck today.
In the morning, I had to pick up my grades and reg form from school. Because of the occasion and for moral support, Jason went with me. As I walked in the unbearable heat of the Ateneo campus holding hands with my boyfriend (who was melting, sorry about that babe. =*) enjoying the summer breeze (A.K.A. sweltering heat!!!) I didn't feel unlucky at all. As we got the the Social Sciences building where the SOSS grades are being given out, Jason said "I'm sure you did great" and squeezed my hand. I didn't feel unlucky at all.
I passed everything. Every. Single. Subject. Not just passing, my grades were actually good. I didn't feel unlucky at all.
He's leaving for Dumaguete in the morning with SFC friends. Today was reserved for each other. He'll only be gone a week, but it's still seven days. KFC zingers, NBA live (I suck, btw), Notting Hill, lots and lots of. And lots and lots of laughter and seriousness alike. I didn't feel unlucky at all.
I had questions, he willingly and lovingly gave the answers. There was lots of staring-into-each-others-eyes and tickling and mushy-gushy-lovey-dovey things, and just being carefree. Today was just perfect. And I guess that just puts the whole 13-is-unlucky theory in it's place. It's just a superstition, no more no less. If I didn't know better, I'd even go as far as to say that 13 may possibly be a lucky number.
But let's not get carried away.
And with 40 minutes left in the day, there has still been nothing that ruined it. I don't think anything could. With 40 minutes left in the day, I still don't feel unlucky at all.
Thank you for today, thank you for being great. Today was sweet, relaxing, touching, everything. Today was perfect. Thank you. Have a good flight tomorrow. Be good. Be safe. I love you.
They say 13 is an unlucky number. But the thing is, today marks the 13 months that Jason and I have been together, and I was thinking a lot about luck today.
In the morning, I had to pick up my grades and reg form from school. Because of the occasion and for moral support, Jason went with me. As I walked in the unbearable heat of the Ateneo campus holding hands with my boyfriend (who was melting, sorry about that babe. =*) enjoying the summer breeze (A.K.A. sweltering heat!!!) I didn't feel unlucky at all. As we got the the Social Sciences building where the SOSS grades are being given out, Jason said "I'm sure you did great" and squeezed my hand. I didn't feel unlucky at all.
I passed everything. Every. Single. Subject. Not just passing, my grades were actually good. I didn't feel unlucky at all.
He's leaving for Dumaguete in the morning with SFC friends. Today was reserved for each other. He'll only be gone a week, but it's still seven days. KFC zingers, NBA live (I suck, btw), Notting Hill, lots and lots of. And lots and lots of laughter and seriousness alike. I didn't feel unlucky at all.
I had questions, he willingly and lovingly gave the answers. There was lots of staring-into-each-others-eyes and tickling and mushy-gushy-lovey-dovey things, and just being carefree. Today was just perfect. And I guess that just puts the whole 13-is-unlucky theory in it's place. It's just a superstition, no more no less. If I didn't know better, I'd even go as far as to say that 13 may possibly be a lucky number.
But let's not get carried away.
And with 40 minutes left in the day, there has still been nothing that ruined it. I don't think anything could. With 40 minutes left in the day, I still don't feel unlucky at all.
Thank you for today, thank you for being great. Today was sweet, relaxing, touching, everything. Today was perfect. Thank you. Have a good flight tomorrow. Be good. Be safe. I love you.