Flaring Felicity

Originally written in September 29, 2013. Rewritten to reflect my present voice and clarity.

If someone offered me donuts or ice cream every day, I imagine one of three things might happen:

• I’d alternate between the two, happily indulging—until the weight creeps in.

• I’d take small bites daily, letting it be a sweet but controlled treat.

• Or I’d binge like there’s no tomorrow… and eventually feel sick of both.

Even if the flavors change, the daily sight and taste can grow dull.
Yet having constant access to two of my favourite indulgences still shapes how I respond—by desire, discipline, or disconnection.

So here’s the real question:
What if life was like that—limited to options that are always sweet, yet strangely repetitive?

I’m not really talking about desserts now.
What if the donuts and ice cream were actually ideas, opportunities, or even affections constantly offered your way?
Would you find contentment?
Would you create something new—like donut ice cream?
Or would you walk away from it altogether?

You might be wondering what this has to do with love.
Hang tight. We’re getting there.

A Lesson in Longing

I’ll admit—donuts and ice cream make me weak.
The mere sight of an Alcapone or Coffee Crumble tempts me to ditch my diet and surrender.
But that craving teaches me something:

We desire what delights us.
We reach for what satisfies—even briefly.
And yet, not everything sweet is meant to be consumed in excess.

So how does this connect to love?

Well—love requires patience.
It’s one of the first things we’re told, isn’t it?

If we truly want something, we’re willing to wait.
We endure.
Not just because we’re told to—but because love asks us to slow down and savour the unfolding.

I won’t pretend I’ve always been good at that.
I’ve impulsively bought shoes at first sight.
I’ve skipped long queues for donuts and settled for less just to avoid the wait.
Waiting? Not my strength.

But here’s what I’m learning:
Patience is possible when you’re connected to what (or who) you’re waiting for.

The Missing Link

We are more patient with what we feel attached to.
Family, grades, our job—they all hold ties to our responsibilities or survival.
But that’s not love.
That’s function.

Love?
Love grows from investment.
From time spent, effort poured, and the little experiences that tug at your heart.

I’m attracted to art.
But I love music.

Music gave me sleepless nights of learning chords.
It gave me adrenaline on stage and comfort during heartbreak.
It made me feel alive.

That’s the difference.
Love isn’t just interest—it’s presence, persistence, and passion.

So ask yourself:
How much of your heart are you pouring into what (or who) you say you love?
Is there still time for love?

The Commitment Nobody Talks About

Here comes the dreaded word: commitment.

Not the dreamy version. The real kind.
Where two people, two parties, or two paths are in it together.
Business, relationships, passions—it all needs reciprocation.

When one side stops showing up, things fall apart.
It’s painful. It’s disappointing.
But it’s also part of the risk.

And yet—we keep choosing love anyway.
Because real love isn’t just something we feel.
It’s something we do.

Love is a road without a reverse gear.
You keep walking.
Even when it’s hard.
Especially when it’s hard.

The only anchor that keeps me steady is this:
God’s love for me doesn’t waver.
He walks every path I take—even the confusing ones.
And because of that, He deserves my first and deepest commitment.

That’s the relationship that shapes all others.
And it’s the one where love always shows up.

What Will You Choose?

If I see ice cream and donuts again, I might still say yes.
They bring me joy, remind me of childhood, and taste like home.
But I love myself more—so I’ll savour them in moderation.

Yes, it takes discipline.
Yes, sometimes I’ll say no.
But I’ll keep choosing what’s best, not just what’s sweet.

And in love?
I’ll choose what’s real.
The kind that stays.
The kind that grows.
The kind that’s worth the wait.