The Garden

You asked me what will happen, if you no longer look as beautiful as you are now; what will happen, when your arms no longer hold the same strength to carry me around the house; what will happen when life catch you up? Life is a tough adventure, for the wonders are endless, but time is merciless. Faces come and go, and traces of livings are born and buried every minute. No external beauty is everlasting, no wonder is everlasting, and no treasure is ever kept hidden. 

Love takes on multiple faces, for its role is vague, diverse. 

For some, love should be like a couple running in the park, careless, free, child-like, happy, peaceful. It is sweet like fresh honey and warm like the breeze of spring. Love is transparent, for the people only see each other. It reflects desire, passion; a born adventurous side born within them. Life is rosy, the sky is blue, and the birds are singing.

For others, love is a battlefield: there are bumps here and there, the road is rough and grey, the hills are high and intimidating, and the sky is drowned in darkness. The wind blows strong on their torn and shaky figures roaming through the night, but the hand holding their is tight and secure. The days are tough, the nights are long, but the determination is burning bright and violently. No matter the distance, the footsteps are heavily engraved along each bump, each lost trail, each battlefield. For them, love is surviving through the worst, and still be able to look at the person with a loving gaze. Love is violently passionate. 

For some, love is an empty book waiting to be filled with intimate wonders, with laughter and lighthearted notes. It is a book that brings a roller coaster of emotions to the readers; chapters filled with suspense, with a cliffhanger, with a sudden twist that takes your breath away, with tears, with smiles. This book of love has pages and pages of scattered notes, for the people are analyzing each other, writing down every single little detail, noticing every little changes, commenting on every little adorable acts of their loved one. This book is precious, for the memories left behind is unique -- each Book of Love holds a special person, a special meaning. 

For me, my love for you is like a garden. Under the warm harsh sun, the garden lays empty but strong. The ground is moist, the terrain has been prepared, the holes are dug. What am I waiting for, you ask. I am waiting for the special seeds that will bring breathtaking flowers in my garden; I am waiting to find the perfect weather to plant my seeds, so it can blossom beautifully and strong. I am waiting for the right one. 

This Garden of Love is complicated; for the weather is harsh at times, for Nature doesn't help me, and for I am slowly becoming exhausted of battling, of trying to see some success. 

At the end of the day, the progress is slow, the ground is still moist, and the lands are still empty and lonely. 

When the right one comes, this Garden of Love blossoms. Flowers of various bright colors fill the rows; fruits of all kind make their appearance; and Nature has never been so peaceful.

The harsh warm sun rays no longer burn my skin, but it brings a warmth I have never experienced.

The ground is evergreen.

The breeze is soft, brushing lightly against the flowers. 

This Garden of Love teaches me patience, for no success can be achieved with impatience, with arrogance, with impulsivity, and anger. It has taught me to embrace challenges as self-growth, to learn to love unconditionally, and to accept what you can take. 

This Garden of Love teaches me confidence, for the blossoming of the flowers are earned with the utmost care toward yourself, toward themselves. Prudence is learned, for the fragility of this Garden of Love can be destroyed with the harsh words, the reckless promises, and the burning lies. 

This Garden of Love teaches me what I have been seeking and searching for years: to learn to trust and be patient. 

Without trust, this Garden of Love becomes dry; it dies under the sun's lies, the wind's harsh words, and the ground's coldness. 

Without patience, this Garden of Love becomes a mess, for the flowers grows beautifully only to let their young small petals fall on the cold ground quickly. The rows are drowned in grey petals, in darkness, in dry leaves. 

My Garden of Love for you was a difficult and complicated one, for the roses had thorns, the fruits grew slowly, and the land bright and grey at the same time. It brought happiness at times, and sadness in others. It brought smiles in rainy days, and tears in sunny days. 

But this Garden of Love I have for you was stronger than I expected. 

My love for you has grown into a beautiful Garden, filled with roses of the brightest velvety color, filled with the sweetest fruits one could ever taste, filled with the most exotic plants one could ever admire, and my Garden is the most peaceful evergreen land one could ever live on. 

My love for you is a simple Garden: a simple Garden filled with wonders, with beauty, with passion, and peacefulness. 

This evergreen land doesn't mind the battlefield.

This evergreen land doesn't run away from life.

This Evergreen Land is timeless.