The food must have cost a thousand, and we must've only eaten through less than half of it. That was the best part. The economics of love, as they say, isn't one to be bound by rationality; but the returns are indelible as they are delightful, or to take delight in. They exceed whatever zero-sum, pareto-optimal semantic you can throw at me. And for me, the returns traced down the effervescence of Kat's beautiful face, which shone, laughed, and shimmered against the gentle tides of the evening. In rhythm, my heart - amid its congenital murmur - beat with hers, as did my every gesture, gaze and breath.
And had I been cavalier enough, I would've held her hand in the brewing opaqueness of the evening, and told her legendary stuff.
But there was no need for a fairy-tale ending; I felt that pixie-dust, guised as thick Tagaytay fog at 10pm, had already suffused the night and taken over/enhanced our fixations. The fog, fittingly, brought us to a nearby Starbucks for usual musings and helpings of frappuccino and chocolate. (I say "fittingly" because thats how we would, in the months that would follow, style both the convention and splendidness of our coupling.) The night drifted. And drifted. And drifted. It drifted as much as love brewed between two listless, amazing souls. It drifted inasmuch that she could no longer allow night to crossover to dawn. Because I'd spent the past hours basking in the caffeinated bliss of her company, intruding her stories with an artillery of glib and gab, and finding a neverland chapter in her real life storybook, that I couldn't imagine being anywhere else, or with anyone else, at that precise moment of earth's history. Only with her, Kat.
I'd tell the world, despite its perennial immediacy and endless, tireless list of must-to-do's: "I have to go about seeing a girl." (If you'd seen Goodwill Hunting, you'd know this).
And that's what I keep telling the world still, 12 months after, after having just commemorated that first evening in Bag of Beans: I got to go about this girl.
I got to be with my woman. My fiancee, now.
And in another 365 days, or so: My wife.
Absolutely Fitting.
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| @ Bag of Beans, 365 days after that first one. |
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| Everywhere here: Love brews. |
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| this time, we get to FINISH our food. :) |
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| @ sbucks tagaytay ridge, for the nth time. never fails to perfect the evening. |
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| choc/frappe :) |
