I don’t know if you still read this anymore, but it’s worth a shot. I don’t know how to get a hold of you anymore without invading your personal space. I’m guarded by this fear that any move I make to reach out is going to ruin anything you have and make you resent me. So I wait. Wait for a phone call, a text, a knock on my door. I let you live your life with complete freedom and hope to God you are noticing how I am growing up; growing into someone who could love you not as a child, but as a woman. I’ve learned so much about myself and what I am capable of these past few years, and yet the only thing that has stayed constant is my love for you. I’m scared. Terrified. There’s a tiny part of me that hopes and prays and wishes that once I graduate and come home for good, I’ll be yours. Granted we would have a lot of work to do to make this work. There’s another part of me that thinks it will never happen and I am just going to feel you slip through my fingertips.
Jonathan Jose Limjoco, you will always mean the world to me, and no one will ever hold my heart the way you have all these years. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future, but I just hope you are a part of it in any way you deem fit. I love you.
