May 3, 2012

The scent of your perfume

It’s been more than a year since I posted in this blog because my husband died in 2011 and my life as a widow is a big adjustment for me. I guess life must go on and my heart continuous beating. I have two children to love and be loved in return and I guess love just never run out if you share it with someone.
It is really hard to move on if you lost someone you love especially if it is your spouse but life must go on because you have to love yourself too. Self love is the most important thing in this world because no matter what happens you can still survive. If you don’t love yourself enough you cannot share it with someone and you will never be happy. If the person you love is the only thing that makes you happy then you cannot survive the challenges of life and might as well dig your own grave. Happiness comes from within; you have to celebrate life ‘because you only have one life to live.
When he died, I cried almost everyday. Even before he died I cried everyday because I’ve seen him suffered in the ICU. I think if crying extensively can kill I would have died. It is the most painful part of my life that I would never want to experience again.

When I was growing up, I use to read fairytales and hope someday I would also meet my prince charming. I did meet him but life is no fairytale. It is so difficult to find your mate and then gone in an instant, like a flick of a finger. When I married my husband I came to realize that there is no such thing as a prince charming just an ogre called SHREK but despite his flaws I still loved him. Love is really not superficial but accepting the person as he is, imperfect, rude and sometimes hard headed.

Today, I still miss him especially when I see a man that resembles him. Man in uniform that is for sure, I would stare at a policeman and see my husband in them. I would look at Coco Martin’s cute smile and I would remember him looking at me. I remember him when I smell his perfume on others and even when I see his gesture or body movement from someone. Remembering him doesn’t give me tears anymore but it would put a smile on my face because I reminisce the good times we had than the bad times. Life is after all like a music, there is a high tune and a low tune and the inevitable ending.

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Reminder to everyone:

English is my second language so bear with me if my grammar, as well as sentence and paragraph construction is faulty. I am not writing to impress but simply to express my thoughts.

The opinion written here is solely mine and I have no intention to impose it to anyone for that matter. So as the title goes this is just my perception