10:25

She’s an old soul with a strong heart but her happiness is like that of a kid–shallow. Her age is young but her scars are deep, invisible to the naked eye and you will only get to fully understand her once she allows you to see it, the transparency of a woman who they see as a girl. Lucky are those who have witnessed her genuine self— a beauty and madness; a nightmare dressed as a daydream.”

 

LOVE,

-QUAINTRELLE BELLE-

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12:30

A carefree soul just entered the premises of her home; sitting while trying to bear the familiar nagging voice behind her as she sat down and did her skin care routine.
It’s 12:30 and she silently opened the wooden door she grew up with, slowly she pushed but the antique door came with a package of a cracking sound.
Despite the supposedly disturbing words being thrown at me, I’m still oddly ecstatic. I don’t know,really… Is it because of the precious time I spent with my friends or is it because of you? I asked. Both, actually. The contagious laughter and spontaneous conversations with my girls are priceless but the smile you engrave in my heart during those short exchange of messages is timeless.
“He opened up” , this is the sentence that was stuck on my mind two days ago. You opened up to me and gave me a chance to have a quick glance at your narrow-opened life. Just a sneak peak they say but it meant a lot to me. Trying to find out your personal thoughts and life story is something I’ve always craved for. Deep conversations and honest perceptions are the best night enders and you gave me that just when i thought about giving up and laying low. And that, my dear, is the best valentine’s day gift I have ever received—your thoughts.
💗

 

 

LOVE,

-QUAINTRELLE BELLE-

9:30

                      9:30 —- silence is surrounding the alleys of this white-painted hospital. The sound of the AC humming like an engine is engulfed within this glass-filled walls I sit in. A lady in blue trying to find the right spot just so I can see you pass back and forth behind that narrow-opened door.

                      “How can someone walk so gracefully in gray?”, I uttered. The shine on your face is the same. That vaseline-like cheeks of yours is radiating the entire room. If you only know how mesmerizing you look while walking so manly towards the phone in front of me making my heart tremble like a bass drum. My eyes behind this blue-lens glasses is twinkling like the stars on the night sky. The aura you have while your body is leaning towards the wall is simply dramatic to watch—–a movie.

I wonder, are you a movie star? Because if you are, then, I am your number one fan who will never get tired of admiring every little detail about you.

 

 

 

LOVE,

-QUAINTRELLE BELLE-

10:58

10:58—– a woman in her blue scrub suit is restlessly waiting for the last two minutes of her shift. “tick tock, tick tock”, says the clock and the supposedly disturbing noise fills my heart with excitement leaving this day with a smile.

          My mind was at ease this whole time; no, I was trying to put my mind at ease this whole time. Stuffing my ears with music just so my puzzled mind can sing the lyrics tacitly inside my head, avoiding the thoughts which fill my brain when silence is around. Then, that black picture popped on my phone with your name saying you sent me a message. A message in a bottle or should I say a picture of a bottle. You were filling your stomach with that cobalt-induced malt drink called beer.

I smiled though, even after all those nervous breakdowns I almost had while thinking about meeting your eyes after that one drunk night, I still smiled. Deeper and longer, our conversation flowed but no matter what the discussion is about, I am still smiling. Then I wondered, where were you all this time?, The answer? in my mind.

 

LOVE

-QUAINTRELLE BELLE-

10pm

It’s 10pm — the night gets deeper yet here I am sitting still in front of a.flat screen, bright monitor trying to figure out what I should write about. Thoughts flood my chaotic mind and it suddenly felt noisy despite the silence surrounding me. I saw your name popped on the screen with that green button beside it. “Him again?”, I asked myself then I answered “Yes, for these past days it has always been him”. The surprising soliloquy hit me. I am not writing out of boredom, I am scribbling down this medium-sized, neon pink notebook because I miss you. I long for that look on your face everytime you walk past me, holding those lysol-scented papers. I miss the way my heart beats faster as you exit that brown, wooden door and march your way to me. Slowly but beautifully passing  behind the glass space where I cave in.

Again and again, here I am jolting down in words the feelings my mind can’t seem to decipher. YOU.

 

 

LOVE,

-QUAINTRELLE BELLE-

11:11

~311 pm— “make a wish”, they say, for 11:11 is when hearts silently whisper their deepest desires. Tho, it is the hour when my thoughts start to wander. Staring at this flower-printed,pink wallpaper as I reflect on today. What happened? What happened to me?, are the questions I tacitly utter.
Confused but amused, if I may depict. Confused as to why my heart flutters everytime you smile and amused as I try to remember that exact moment when I glimpsed at you on the side. You smiled. He smiled. With your face glowing as the morning light shines your eyes, you smiled. And I fathomed, that’s the only memory of today I can recall.

 

LOVE,

-QUAINTRELLE BELLE-

3 am

3 am–the witching hour or the devil’s time per say, where my consciousness is slowly drifting away from my body and where my eyes are starting to flikcer until light is seen no more; is the hour when my naive mind tacitly thinks of you.
You, that familiar shadow I see when the sunlight meets the white-painted wall. You, who makes my fickle heart beats faster as I gaze across the room and there you are standing, while your face shines like vaseline.
“Stop”, I whispered to myself, just stop for a moment and look down, dont meet my eyes halfway as I feel my blood run through my cheeks til warmth has taken over my face. Red as a beet, I cross my fingers hoping not to be caught.

 

LOVE,

-QUAINTRELLE BELLE-