Marielle and I took long walks and played Scrabble on the iPad. We talked about only romantic things. We talked about going to the south of France; we talked about windsurfing in Maldives.
We listened to love songs from Bruno Mars (Marry You), Train (Marry Me) and Colbie Caillat (I Do) over and over again. We rode the Zipline across Tagaytay Ridge. We held hands while schools of Doctor Fish nibbled at our feet at Picnic Grove.
We took baths together. We stayed in bed all day, snuggling beneath blankets. I woke her up with kisses. After dinner late at night, we would come into the room, shivering, and fool around until early dawn.
Sipping Vodka Mudshakes at Leslie’s Seafood Restaurant, I would look into Marielle’s eyes and imagine running around Greenbelt Park on a cool December afternoon with her, laughing, holding hands; we buy balloons, we let them go.
“At last my love has come along / My lonely days are over / And life is like a song…”
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