APLFD: Accepting


Dear Maera,

At one point you’ll understand that love isn’t magic. That love takes and gives. That love means accepting someone completely with all the flaws, the bended and even the broken parts caused by someone else in the past. Love means accepting that some damages can not be repaired and some shades of color can not be repainted.

That love means accepting someone with all those unseen tiny holes inside, those tiny holes we can never get into, those tiny holes filled with other things we’re never sure of, those tiny holes that might be just empty.

And that someone can be yourself.






Postcard to Aralia


Rome, November 6, 2012

Hello from Rome to Aralia!

Do you know what could be worse than having flown through almost half of the globe then finding out that your fiance had fallen out of love and been seeing someone else (Italiano!)? Not flying and not finding it out. Getting a heart broken in Rome is surely the scariest thing one can ever experienced! Couple with their mouth locking each other at, like, every corner! Luckily there are lots of gelateria and espresso and Mediteranian hunks. Well, maybe it’s not bad at all. I’m thinking about flying to Freiria and finding that Portuguese guy I met through OKcupid 3 years ago. Wish you were here to stop me.

Love, JulietLosingRomeo0108

Dating an Artist


A: My mom once told me to never date an artist
B: Well, most musicians are pretty shitty but it’s just a date, right? Not that you’re marrying him next month.
A: Yeah, and this one isn’t shitty. At least until this morning. And he’s more a painter than bassist. And thank God he doesn’t do stand up comedy.
B: Wait until the 5th date. or 6th.
A: What? Is there a statistic of people doing stand up comedy after the 6th date?
B: No. I mean, I once dated an artist. He did video and stuff and composed music too. He was nice and I enjoyed every second of conversation because engineering students never talked about how Imogen Heap performed on the stage or illegal street racing with motorcycle without rear mirror. I still remember how I loved to listen to him.
A: Then what happened?
B: He came back to his ex. Maybe after our 6th date, he just realized that I wasn’t an artist type.
A: Shit. But yes. You’ve been sober all your life, haven’t you?