"Hey, can I tell you a story?" I asked him, intertwining his fingers with mine.

"About what?" he asked and made that  expression which I always thought was cute.

"About you," I smiled as I laid my head on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his hand.

"Once upon a time, I rode a bus without knowing where it was going. I was head over heels for this guy that I rode the first bus that came just to see him."

"Why didn't you ask him what bus to take?" he interrupted.

"It's because he didn't tell me to go. He didn't give me any address. It was like, a spur of the moment thing. Moving on, did you know that it felt like forever in there? I didn't like it. Forever felt like a long time and heading to someone without a destination wasn't what I had in mind to spend it on. So I decided to go."

"Where did you go?" he asked, holding my hand much tighter.

"I don't know. I was just walking in the middle of nowhere, trying to find something that I don't even know. Maybe I was trying to find something— or maybe I just wanted to be found. But it felt better,— being lost, getting sick, starving and even dying while trying to find direction than riding that bus you know?"

"Hey, this is all metaphorical isn't it? And how is this about me?" he questioned.

"You're cute when you're curious," I laughed, giving him a peck on his cheek. "Just listen to me."

"After quite a long time, when I felt like all hope was gone, when I was about to give up, I saw someone. I walked up to him and asked where I was. He smiled. He said only a few people who got lost get this far because some give up on their way. I asked him how to go home, and he said to just wait. He said that the right bus will come when I'm ready. I then heard several buses passing by and when I was about to ask him more questions, he disappeared. I swear it felt like he was a deity or something. But I did what he said. I waited for the right bus, even though I didn't know what it would look like. But there were changes. Before, when I was still lost, I've grown weaker each day, but this time, it was as if I was healing. And then it dawned to me—I was slowly being healed by time. When I felt like I was ready, he was right. A bus stopped by which was heading home. I hurriedly rode it and it felt right. I was finally going home," tears were slowly running down my cheeks as I stared right into his eyes.

"And do you know where the bus took me?" I asked him and he smiled as if he knew the answer.

"Well, I have a feeling," his eyes grew smaller with the smile he has put on.

"To you. It turned out that home—home was you."

—The night before our wedding