To fear needing

While I was trying to past the time while waiting for you, this is what the odds made me read. And somehow, a speck of my whole being wanted to believe that this could possibly apply to me:

                "Don't be a woman who needs a man...

As much as I love living co-dependently, I fear needing. I fear it more than I do eight-legged freaks. I think "needing" someone is my greatest fear because whenever I need you, I expect more from you, and there's no fun in that. Sometimes I deceive myself by trying not to need you, and end up in the "morbidest" form of solitude. Without needing you, I sometimes feel I can self-destruct.

                  ....Be a woman a man needs!"

Somehow I wish you need me too, in the same intensity that I do you. And I know I must be a fool to believe that two people can be equally passionate about two different things, but I guess I just needed some affirmation that you do (if you're there) or may (eventually) need me in a certain degree. Not that I don't feel that you need me too, sometimes, it's just different if you'll say "I need you."

Side notes: This "hormonal imbalance" thing we women have is really getting into me. 

--o0o--

The morning after this post was written, a friend texted me this:

 Fearlessness - Knowing that you are an instrument in the hands of God and that He is in control. Fear always relates to the future.But always remember that when you get there, God will be there. He says "Stop worrying. Stop being afraid."

And that made all the difference.

Sometimes...

Sometimes I need what I want, until someone proves to me I don’t.

Sometimes I like being neglected (talk about masochism), so I can seek refuge from something else, more often with someone else. Sometimes I like being taken cared of too, because it defines my day or week, more so, it defines how I get to be me.

Sometimes I hate how I miss people, how I obliged them to extend a “Hi” or “Hello” to me whenever necessary. Sometimes, I don’t know when is it necessary, nor can I define necessity at this given aspect.

Sometimes I like to remain unnerved from everything that stresses me out – from work, from love, from home. But I don’t know how long it will eventually take me to be strong enough to not let them get into me… Sometimes, I think that’s impossible.

Sometimes I’m caught up between too many things I love, like singing and writing. Sometimes I like to sing more, other times I write more. Sometimes I think they could never go the same direction.

Sometimes I think love’s absurd, other times I think it just is extraordinary.

Sometimes I love to cry, rant and vent out. Sometimes I think that’s one cowardly act. Sometimes I wish I’ll know how to always keep these eyes dry.

Sometimes I need affirmations to get me through some rough days. Sometimes I think they just lure you to forgetting bad moments, but still nurse those moments with reflection at the end of the day.

Sometimes I think I don’t need anyone, and disprove this to myself all over again.

Sometimes I worry about what’s underneath. Sometimes I think I’m too shallow, sometimes I think I’m too slow. Sometimes I think I’m strong, other times I think I’m wrong.

Sometimes I know I cannot always figure ME out, but sometimes that’s okay, right?

Going gaga over horror movies

I’m scared to death of horror films because as much as I control it, they (ghosts, spirits or what other entity there is) haunt me even in my dreams. The imagination of this coward lady has proven to be very efficient thru fear. And as much as I hate watching these kinds of movies because it makes me want to wet my pants, the movie-buff in me finds joy in criticizing and dissecting every detail, every scary scene, the time line, the catch, and everything in between.

And since I’ve been really meaning to scare myself for the last nine months of this horror-barren year, I’ve downloaded some of my favorite flicks to illustrate to me again why we (horror movies) have this love-hate relationship.

So join me in wishing myself luck and hopefully, a peaceful and good night sleep.

Unburdening the excess baggage

People who stood by me through time know well-enough how I love clutter in my life -- the intellectual, emotional and even the stress garbage are welcome by hugs and kisses. I know, I’m insane, but life without chaos just sort-of feel like abnormal to me. Not until the excess baggage, turned jagged pill, became too heavy for me to load and too big for me to swallow.

The anguish, pain, mistrust, and aches were just some of the things I got into just to feed the habit. I was a masochist, according to my friends. I guess masochism was something I innately practice, and condemn at the same time. At some point, I hated myself for seeking this form of gratification because it just doesn’t make sense.

Now I thank the universe and reality for bitch-slapping me for going too far, and for subjecting my wimpy self to vulnerability.

My life is now moving forward, on to realigning my responsibilities and theirs as well. And now we go towards our own direction, in proportions.

Side note: Things couldn’t have gone any better if not for the unburdening. So I also thank the self-serving souls of this world for the awakening.

Publish Post

My goal for the month is...

...to see my favorite person even more than I already do, just so I can get rid of all the moods that come with missing.

Slow pacing

Somewhere between busy work schedules, breakfast dates with EJ, restaurant-hunting, shopping, traveling, reading, watching TV series, enjoying sarcasms and writing, it felt that the world and the people I care about in life has changed their cycles, hearts and statuses in so little time -- and now I am left behind.