Another moving story that I recieved recently which I would like to share.Honestly,after reading it I feel like crying..

When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her
hand and said, I’ve got something to tell you. She sat down and ate
quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.
Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let
her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic
calmly.
She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me
softly, why? I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away
the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we
didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find
out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a
satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Dew. I didn’t love her
anymore. I just pitied her!
With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which
stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my
company.
She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who
had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt
sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take
back what I had said for I loved Dew so dearly. Finally she cried
loudly
in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was
actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me
for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.
The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing
something at the table. I didn’t have supper but went straight to sleep
and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful daywith
Dew.
When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just
did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.
In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn’t
want anything from me, but needed a month’s notice before the divorce.
She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal
a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a
month’s time and she didn’t want to disrupt him with our broken
marriage.
This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked
me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding
day.
She requested that everyday for the month’s duration I carry her
out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning. I thought she was
going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted
her
odd request.
I told Dew about my wife’s divorce conditions. She laughed
loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies,
she
has to face the divorce, she said scornfully
My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce
intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the
first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is
holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From
the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten
meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don’t
tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put
her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I
drove
alone to the office.
On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned
on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that
I hadn’t looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she
was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair
was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I
wondered what I had done to her.
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of
intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her
life to me.
On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of
intimacy was growing again. I didn’t tell Dew about this. It became
easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday
workout made me stronger.
She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a
few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my
dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so
thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.
Suddenly it hit me… she had buried so much pain and bitterness
in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.
Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it’s time to carry
mum out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become
an
essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer
and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I
might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms,
walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her
hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly;
it was just like our wedding day.
But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I
held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to
school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn’t noticed that our life
lacked intimacy.
I drove to office… jumped out of the car swiftly without
locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my
mind…
I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I
do not want the divorce anymore.
She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. Do
you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I
said, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she
and I didn’t value the details of our lives, not because we didn’t love
each other any more. Now I realize that since I carried her into my
home
on our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart.
Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then
slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove
away.
At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers
for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled
and wrote, I’ll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.

The small details of your lives are what really matter in a
relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, the money in
the
bank, blah..blah..blah. These create an environment conducive for
happiness but cannot give happiness in themselves. So find time to be
your spouse’s friend and do those little things for each other that
build intimacy. Do have a real happy marriage!

I am a social phobic. I am anxious being around people especially those that I do not know.Stranger anxiety as what psychiatrist called it.That is why most often I was regarded as unfriendly and snob.This also maybe the reason why I prefer staying at home rather than attending parties and the like.

My handicap hinders me in bringing out my best.

I think It is never too late to overcome this barrier.I have to do something.And the best way maybe is to face what I am afrad of.I have to learn how to reach out.Teach myself to mingle.Befriend others.

maybe i was head over heels inlove

that i was blinded by the truth

my vision was blurred

by this intense emotion i felt for you

I denied the truth

yes i let my life spent in lies

for i think someday i will be happy

someday you will be mine

with those hurtful words spoken

and unforgiven actions

i realized that you are teaching me a lesson

and that is how to learn unloving you

am a good student,a fast learner too

so you do not need much time my dear teacher

for me to learn how to hate you

I am not a weakling.I can say that I am strong enough. I’ve been through countless hardships and I am proud to say that I triumphantly conquered them.So when I cry it does not mean that I am lossing my strength it is just my other way of bringing out what is nagging inside.

I cry when I am hurt. I cry when I am in pain.I cry when I felt alone. I cry when everything seems not going right.But I am not ashamed of those tears because they are proofs that I am a human with feeling. (na hindi ako manhid)

For me there’s no wrong with crying.Even Jesus during His time here on Earth wept when His friend Lazarus died.Even the Son of God cries how much more we mere mortals?

Do not be afraid of crying.Do not hold your tears.Pour it out.Let those tiny beads of crystals flow from the window of your soul that your eyes will be cleansed and you will see the reason why things that make you cry came into your life.

For my first ever blog I would like to share this very inspiring and very moving story/poem  I just recieved in my inbox a moment ago.The message is too inspiring that I can’t help myself sharing it. Here it goes:

The Basureros