edited image from ArtVille

You remember last week when I told you I found it difficult to blog since I met you? Since we became a couple officially, I have not had enough time to bond with my nephew and I don’t hang out with Andre as often as I used to. Not that I’m complaining. I enjoy every minute I spend with you.

You joshed, “Why not blog about me? Am I not something worth blogging about?”

You are, of course. But I choose not to. After all, you are one part of my life that I’d rather keep private. That’s how possessive I am of you.

But I’ll give you this blog post.

They say that the hormones responsible for that incredible feeling of falling and being in love linger in the brain for only six months. So it’s a chemically-induced emotion, after all. Six months. Most of the time, these chemicals dry up along with the love.

So that’s why most couples I know barely last seven months. Six months of hormonal euphoria and the seventh month is spent by the neurons deliberating whether to stay in the relationship or to call it quits. And many of them choose to break the other’s heart.

You remember our first date? We were in UP Diliman that night. We sat on the grass and suddenly, fireworks started sparkling in the sky. Neither of us knew or even expected there’d be fireworks. But there were. You borrowed my cellphone, composed a message, and gave it back to me. I still have that message on my inbox. It was probably the first time the love hormones rushed in to my brain.

That was more than six months ago.

Experts expect that after six months the feeling will probably change.

It’s true. The feeling did change.

But to the opposite direction. That awesome feeling I had when there were fireworks more than doubled. In fact, it grew exponentially.

The greatest thing is that you have been giving me that hormone-rush so often but oh so effortlessly. We have not had a date expensive enough to regret it. You have not done anything grandiose enough to make me feel unworthy. You have not done anything that could be bigger than you. You just give me you. And you are enough, really.

As said succinctly in one heartwarming Youtube video we watched together, in the end it is the small details that we remember.

Oh yeah, the small details.

Like the day you said “Damn, if this means I’m gay, then so be it. I love you.” And that delightful thrill when you stole a kiss from me when we were passing through a tunnel in Ayala. And the smile on your face when you secretly held my hand while we were in the middle of the sea of humanity on the MRT. And the moment you asked me to move in with you. And that night when we had a faux wedding in Tagaytay. And the way you kiss my face, caress my hair, and hold me closer at night when you think I’m already asleep.

These are things I had not blogged about. But these memories will always be with me.

The truth is, I think the love hormones had already abandoned my brain a very long time ago. They’re gone. Long gone.

And all this that I feel for you is beyond hormones. Beyond physiology. Beyond science.

After six months, love transcends being an emotion and becomes a decision. And that’s when it suddenly involves logic and demands cognition. That’s when it becomes valid, consummate. That’s when we can say we love whole-heartedly. That’s when I loved you fully. And I still do.

I fell in love with you more than six months ago. Later on, I decided to continue loving you. I know you’d made that decision, too.

With or without those hormones, there will always be fireworks. And for that, thank you.

What I feel for you is so much not even scientists can calculate. Not even hormones can induce. Not even fireworks can symbolize. Not even this blog entry can give justice to.

Still, this blog post is for you.

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