He's mine. And I am his. [c.c o9o9o9]: .fifteen.

It has been a while since I have made an entry here, although I often visit here to visit another blog that I follow (yes, I'm guilty), and I'm sorry.

I missed the red-orange-gray color I specifically picked for this, which took me a good two days to be finally contented with it. But I'm also rocking for a plain-white one. But, I'll leave this as it is. *smiles*

I remembered having this blog, gave me a reason to sit-type and put down all the mementos or sentiments that I have. And, I missed that. Honestly. I just wish to have enough time to do all the things that I want to do. So, here goes my shot to keep up with my life...

I honestly don't know why I personally love this picture. All I know is, the moment I looked at it, I feel 'connected' (if you know what I mean). The bond, the love, the closeness, the openness, the comfortability. And being in a relationship like that on top, is what made me like this picture, I think. Don't you just love that image and imagining you are that girl in the tub with your beloved in the same room as you (or him) light a cigar, plus a bottle of wine, maybe? I love. *_*

Then, I found this picture on my desktop. And I remembered, I searched for this picture because I want to make a post about the boyfriend cooking food for me. As for the people who doesn't know, the boyfriend doesn't know how to cook, anything. Believe me, he doesn't. Oppose than what he says, that he sure knows how to cook fried-food, I say, "well, maybe.. yeah, a little." Believe me baby, he doesn't have any talent when it comes in the kitchen. That's why I was dumbfoundedly shocked when I went home one night on a smell of cooking food. Damn. Manually cooking rice was, hey, a big deal. Especially if you aren't that hands on in the kitchen. Plus, he cooked this viand.. scrambled egg with thinly-sliced hotdogs. It was heaven. The most special food I've ever eaten. If it's possible to not touch it and put it up on a frame, I could have done that. I swear. Then, it'll make you think: "Shhht, how I love going home to this." Husband points, check!

In four days, it'll be our tenth-month anniversary. It feels special. It feels different. Like, I'm on a familiar boat again. The "okay..here we go..." feeling. The boyfriend is.. my second long-shot relationship. Having a two-numbered anniversary is.. something to celebrate, right?

All I can say is that I am truly happy. I may not have the most-perfect other-half in the world, but I'm contentedly happy that he admits to being one of those real person who commits mistakes, tries hard not to do it again, stuff that he knows will hurt me. I'm completely satisfied that I have someone who is willing to work things out with me. Someone who knows that this will not be an easy fight, but he has the strongest heart to see this through. It feels good to have someone that, you know, wouldn't give up on you easily. We may be on a shaky ground at times, but I'm glad that I still find us, holding each other's hands after the stormy clouds passed.

So, to the man I love and will always love...