Love in the Time of Vanity Fair

Chapter 9: Car and Driver

We live our every days in constant pursuit of happiness. Psychologists, philosophers, and theologians alike have spent quite a fraction of their lives trying to decipher something so personal, internalized, and fulfilling yet elusive. G.K. Chesterton once likened it to a mystery that should never be rationalized. And it might just be exactly that.

We find happiness in a magnitude of ways. And then we meet people who redefine what happiness is completely.

I am happy that I have met Ian, even if it was through the most unconventional way. He is the curveball the universe threw that caught me off guard. But every time I see his eyes light up or hear him whisper sweet nothings, I find myself holding on to this happiness, praying it never ends.

...

I woke up to the feel of the beginnings of the sunlight streaming through the blinds. This weekend has been nothing short of magic. Only the stars know what a night may bring and they will forever bear those secrets as they glimmer against the night sky.

Ian was languidly drawing imaginary figures on my arm as he spooned me from behind, my legs tangled with his. I craned my neck to look at him and offered a small, gratified smile.

"Good morning," I greeted and nuzzled my head to his neck.

He let out a small chuckle, "Good morning indeed."

I turned on my back and he settled himself atop me, bracing himself with his arms on both my sides to keep his weight from crushing me, and showered my face with feather light kisses before he captured my lips in a searing kiss. I clasped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

"It's only 5:30," I said breathlessly when we parted and saw his clock by the nightstand. But he paid no attention to the time as he planted kisses on the space behind my ear, slowly moving down the plane of my neck all the way to my shoulder.

He lifted his head and stared at me with intensity. "I love you."

I smiled and let my fingers trace the contours of his face, trailing and memorizing every line. I cradled his face between my hands and pulled him close until our noses met.

"And I, you," I whispered loud enough only for the both of us to hear.

We snuggled the entire morning away, stealing occasional kisses in between.

I laid on his chest while his arms held me.

We were just Lea and Ian... and we fit together.

Come afternoon, I unwillingly parted from the comfy bed as hunger manifested itself and we found ourselves scavenging his pantry for food. We ended up eating eggs since it was the only food edible within a couple of minutes of cooking.

Que yaman yaman na tao, walang de lata.

Dinner made up for what lunch lacked. He packed a basket and we went to the seaside. We settled on a cloth he brought and ate by the roaring fire.

We ended up in a position exactly like that first night in Palawan, lying on the beach and staring at the constellations, eventually falling asleep under the blanket of the night sky, in the company of the stars, and waking up to the marvel brought forth by the rising sun.

Maybe this is our thing. Starlight and sunrises. Our own little secret, safe in the haven the two of us have created, one that nobody could ever take away.

Like all great things, the weekend came to an end. As much as I would have loved to just stay there with him and forget about the rest of the world, we couldn't. The island was pure bliss ingrained forever in my memory.