my Arabian Knight

I GET BORED with long weekends. But Fourth of July seems to agree with the beautiful sunny weather except with me. My throat itched real bad last Thursday and cough began to surface which I hated first of all. Then fever struck a few hours before Cher's arrival. I popped a few paracetamols hoping I'd feel better.

Cher got really impatient and was bitching on the fact that I was arriving late again. She shivered in the cold as I hugged her. When we checked her in at the hotel. This really hot guy was standing beside me and smiled at me immediately. Oh my! He is so handsome! I had never seen such beautiful charcoal-black eyes! I mean, yeah, mine was black with coffee-brown rims on the irises, but his was...darn it! I'm so mesmerized. And his smile, crooked, lopsided, a little cocky. Handsome in its entirety. I was certain he's a foreigner. "Arab," he said in a Mid-Eastern accent. I shook my head several times and try to take out any sense of what I really wanted in a guy. I wasn't attracted easily to guys with accents, decents, bloodlines,furs, I am very picky as I am with food. But that's the spice,isn't it? How can you put labels to people without knowing who they really are? It's not like it's their fault they look the way they should.
But I've been over that a couple of times. I see no problem.
So getting back to the story we surprisingly found ourselves on the couch starting fun conversation like we knew each other for a long time. He was leaving for Manila the day after and join his buddies for a football match. He easily opened up to me about his life (and how he is so much single!) and he was just staying in his room for the night with nothing to do. So without even thinking, I invited him to join us for dinner.
Dinner was, expectantly, fun, at least for me and Abe. Cher was in her own world loving the town for the first time and not minding us, although, she kept pinching me to invite a few male friends of my own to keep her company. We headed to Gilligans for a few after-dinner drinks and he shyly said he was beginning to like me, but the Maria Clara in me said it was too fast to even flirt a little with a prince who would not return for sometime. So I did what every woman do..be an "all-tease, no-tickle" for the first meet.
The perfect gentleman that he was, he opened doors, foots the bill, takes me home (of course, with Cher around), he also spoke in broken but fluent English, so everything turned out really amazing that evening.
The next day, we all had breakfast and headed down the stables, gazebo, and the bakeshop, then at Starbucks located at one of the quaint,little cottages at John Hay. We all had a good time and some kilig moments that me and Abe shared. (In which I will only document in my personal diary,dear readers)
When it was time to part, he handed me a little powder blue box and told me he'll come back and marry me. I laughed, of course and handed him back the box, but he would not accept it. So I threw it inside my bag and told him that if he comes and visit again, I'll tour him around the city, avoiding the subject I was a little uncomfortable of.
He looked at me deeply and said he'll come back to marry the person he had been waiting for a long, long time. Awww, for me all I thought of was, he was just being sweet and maybe meeting a wonderful girl like me breaks him because he was pressed for time. We promised we would keep in touch and that I would visit his country soon so as he bid goodbye, I think I heard my heart break a little, could it be, that I liked him, too? I took out a fortune cookie out of my pocket, one where I didn't get to break and share thoughts with that morning..it read: "Don't let this moment pass you by.", how timely.
That night I slept so deeply that I forgot about the little box Abe gave me. So when I had to drink a glass of water in the middle of the night, I took out the blue box out of its paper bag, curious of its content. And there it was, sitting in an aquamarine cushion! A shiny platinum ring encrusted with diamonds all around the rim, inside the ring was a neat engraved word spelled CARTIER. Oh my! A Cartier! How could he possibly give something so ridiculously expensive to someone he just knew?! Maybe he was serious about his plans. But what am I afraid of? If I already started liking him from the first day I met him? I toyed with the ring but I didn't have the courage to wear it on my finger just..yet.
Mental note to self: send him an email. No. Scratch that. IM him when he lands. This calls for a serious talk. I just think everything should start from simple, uncomplicated things. Maybe when things progress as time goes, we'll take it from there.

I am, after all, worthy of a Cartier...and more.