Seventeen

16 - Honey

The bitter aftertaste of pure honey is something that I find weird. I mean, I know it's just bee vomit. Yeah, gross. But for some reason, someone decided that bee vomit is edible and has health benefits. And even if bee vomit has that weird taste, we keep on eating it anyway. Humanity is fucking weird.

My lover and I have tasted the bittersweet honey. Although we haven't seen it all, and we hope that we'll get there someday, the taste makes me keep on coming back to him. All the flaws that were expectedly there, the fear of the unknown, the yearning of true heaven, that's what I see when I look at him. And it's not about romanticizing his fears, or pain, or anything else that screams negative energy inside a person, but it's about seeing who a person is, with scars and all. The bittersweet taste of honey was found on the tip of my tongue when I realized that this man, whom I choose to love, is not perfect at all. That even if he shows off all the time to proudly call himself as my sort of lovable dork, or not know how to cook my favorite food when I'm upset, or if he makes me laugh at the most inappropriate times at church, those things won't make me hate him. The flaws that I don't even want to point out are not the flaws that will break my heart, but the flaws that will, would be mine.

I know that I've always been the same. I try to put my wants first before anyone else's, which sucks, and I'd seem like a dick right now if I say that I literally used to pray to God to give me everything I want and not need, and I'm pretty sure that I didn't ask God to give me him. I admit, I asked for someone who is perfect, someone who will keep me safe during stormy nights and kiss my tears away during hard times, someone with the most perfect face who will literally make every other girl drop to their knees just for him to pick them up. That's not my lover. My lover is someone who I used to loathe whenever he starts to talk, my lover is someone who I would scream at even if he hasn't done anything wrong, my lover is someone who has never looked at anyone else other than me who doubts him about finding someone better, my lover is someone who has been pushed away countless times only to be pulled back in.

My love, I'm sorry for pulling you down with me. I know I've told you a thousand times, but this time, I mean it when I say that this one's on me, and I don't blame you at all. That right now, even if I haven't been praying to God as much after doubting him and his existence, I pray, that He may lift you up for everything that you've done for me, that He may keep your heart safe and free from the scars that I've caused, for Him to always remind you that everything will be okay. And I love you, I hope you'll always remember that too.

The bittersweet taste of this love is something that I'm scared of. I may not know how this will play out from here, but I know that you'll be okay, honey. We'll be okay.

– "Honey", November 28