"Hello! I represent the children of God and may I just share with you some really great news? Yes, you're one of God's children too! Let me tell you all about Jesus!"

"Thanks, but I'm a Christian too."

"Really? Praise the Lord! Which church do you go to?"

"Does it matter?"

"Umm...why don't you come to our church? It's good!"

"I do go to church, and I have my own church to go to. Now please excuse me."

"Are you free this Sunday? We've got the morning service at 11am or you can attend the afternoon one. Plus I can introduce you to my cell group, they're really great people!"

"Listen up. I am a believer in God. I do not need to attend your church just because you think it's the next best thing on earth. I have the Lord in my heart. Isn't that enough, or do I have to turn into a nun to prove my point?"

It is only now, when I seem to have found a person who could possibly lead me to think that I may share a future together, that I seem to be on the wagon of happiness and content.

Some people believe the only person that can make one happy is oneself. I wouldn't argue with that fact. But I'd also like to include that people were not meant to be alone. Humans are a gregarious lot; how many have retreated into themselves as eccentric reclusives in their cocoon of solitude? Even criminals and murderers go insane when subjected to solitary confinement. Happiness, in part, comes from company, because after all, with two hands anything is possible.

Contentment leaves room for many other things. I find myself taking a wider interest in the world now that the void inside is filled. How strange.

"Through the fire / through the limit / to the wall/ for a chance to be with you / I'd gladly risk it all...." ~ Chaka Khan, Through the Fire

We meet every Friday, because it is the weekend, because then the evenings belong only to us, and not the corporations.

Every Friday, he leaves work at exactly 5:30pm and rushes home just to be with me.
Dinner is either a simple quick affair, or completely forsaken, or taken hours later, when I have retired to bed.

I am at once humbled and humiliated by this man's devotion and desire to spend every available minute of his time with me. If it were not for Fridays, for the some 6,700 miles seperating us, perhaps I would not have learnt today's lesson of this man's love.

I am humiliated because I should ask myself, does my own devotion match this man's? And, what more could I ask for?

As a child, I've dreamed of fairytale romances, someone who would make me their world. So why is it that I'm taking such an insanely stubborn, long time to see what God has laid before my very eyes?