November 17, 2010
Josie Briones Borlongan-
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Someone's knocking on the door.
I am hesitating whether to open the door or not. I know who it is and why he is here. He has come for me.
Love, as they say, knows no boundary. I fell in love, that's what this is all about. Am I ready to elope and be with him forever…to commit my life to him and leave my family and friends behind? For days, I have thought about it. I truly love him, there's no doubt in my heart and mind.
Our whirlwind romance started almost a year ago. It was not love at first sight. It took us three encounters before something deep inside of me said he is the one. He later told me, he hated me at first, because seeing me brought back an uncontrollable urge that he was trying to fight. I thought when he said this that he may have had a bad experience from his past relationships, but then he said that I am his true love. I believed him. So, we both succumbed to our feelings and started seeing each other more often.
We were having so much fun when we are together. He took me to places I have never been before. Although, at times, I felt in danger, somehow I love the feeling of the adrenalin rushing through my veins. Often, we meet at dusk and he takes me home right before dawn. This went on for months, until recently, I noticed him gradually changing. I have been seeing less of him. My heart longed for him so much.
Last night, as I lay in bed half asleep, he knocked on my window. I asked him what was wrong. He said he just came to say goodbye… he’s leaving for good because it is no longer safe to be with me. I begged him not to leave and told him to take me with him.
Finally, after seeing how much my heart is breaking, he whispered into my ears how we can be together forever. Then, he said—“Tomorrow, at dusk, I shall be coming for you.”
Now, as I turn the doorknob, I no longer hesitate. Finally, I opened the door and into his arms, I cling, while he raises his cape and opens his mouth—I could feel his sharp fangs on my neck.
All I could do was close my eyes.
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