What’s Your Story: Write about the last time you said goodbye

Lunchbox prepared and all, I said goodbye to my husband this morning. He’s not going away, as in away. He’s just leaving for the office, like he does five days a week, every week. After the door closes behind him and I hear his car drive off, the “missing” starts.

Bye, he says. Not Goodbye, which sounds so final. See you later, love.

And I am just here.

Waiting.

What’s Your Story:
So yes, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done for love?

And by crazy, we really mean, absolutely insane. The type of act that makes you go “What the hell was I thinking then?!”

I’m such a goody-two-shoes. I can’t really think of anything insane I’ve done for love. I guess that shows how grossly temperate I am – or how KJ, hehe!

I think the closest I can get to an answer for the question is this: The craziest thing I’ve ever done for love was to pack my bags, leave everything that was comfortable in my life, allow my flourishing career slip away, and become a housewife – a housewife! – to a guy I’ve only known a grand total of twenty-seven months.

By the time I arrived and settled in at my new destination, and as homesickness and my glaring insecurities engulfed me, I found myself asking that very same question: “What the heck did I do???”, complete with hysterics and dramatics and all.

It has been better ever since, that much I can tell you. And I’m proud of myself for just going with my feelings and my gut, and following the love of my life to the ends of the earth. Had I used my brain back then, I’d never be here and, perhaps, not as happy and as fulfilled as I am right now.

What’s Your Story:
Write an entry following the given format! I’m sure you will get the pattern. :)

This entry is brought to you by the letter M. My name is Meeya. I like movies, margaritas, and being married. I eat muffins, mangoes, and sauteed mashed munggo with malunggay. I’ve been to Masbate, Miami, and a mental institution in Mandaluyong Megamall. My day is always brighter with memes, YM and SMS messages, and when I make memories with my mini-mee. I like sharing munchies, mp3s, and my most memorable mommyhood moments.

What’s Your Story:
Write a blog entry that ends with the line:
“And then I ran out of words.”

Talk to me. I said to her.

Whatever it is, you have to tell me. You can tell me. I promise I will not yell at you, or make faces. We’re really good friends, right? I will appear shocked if I have to. Do you want me to grovel? Do I have to grovel? How about I get you some ice cream? You know I can wait forever. Well, maybe just until Monday because I have a meeting with my boss and you know how he is when I make excuses not to report for work. Not that being with you is an excuse or anything. Ok, so I’ll meet him on Tuesday, no big deal. I’m sorry, I think the coffee was too strong. Or you’re just really being unbearably quiet. You know, you can tell me, whatever it is. Just please, tell me. Because if you don’t, I’m calling your mom and she’ll…

Shut up. She says. Bathroom. Now! Lord, I hate tacos.

And then I ran out of words.