Melancholy

This is me. Wasting time. Comforting myself. Managing disappointments. This is where I draw the line, I mark the mark, I cross it out and sign it under my property. This is where your trespassing ends, because you know no boundary. This is where my love for myself prevails more than the love I am still willing to give. This is where I am willing to let myself soar and not be bound by you, and vice versa. This is where I pretend to not care, and succeed. This is where I pretend to be strong enough to not mind, and believe. This is where I continue to love you by letting ourselves be two completely separate beings, instead of one, because 'we' would always be just 'me'.

Until it dawns on us both, and until we make amicable compromises, this will stand. For now, I guess.

Now this is me resigning, taking a hike somewhere, going the distance, taking a leave, or maybe giving up.

Goodbye Little Angel

I never understood how life works. Life, to me, seems like a battle of numbers and of years yet to live on. But the math never justifies what good love you bring to the world, because this little angel of ours, brought good love from start to five.

I am mortified to not have known her well-enough to tell you how great a kid she was. I can only listen to stories of her, imagining how she always said 'opo'. I can only picture how our last meeting went. I am not even sure if I've said 'hi', nor can I remember how she looked the last time. I am guilty of not keeping her close at heart, for not letting myself be cheered by her. But now, she had touched my heart in a bazillion of ways I could only feel yet never define.

I can only wish that she were lent to us a little longer, but God already wants her beside him in paradise.

This is where I bid goodbye. Until the next lifetime, Princess.

AJ - n. friend and sister

I've known her pretty damn well back then. We've shared most of everything we had for a whole year. Bed, pillows, blankets. Laughters, tears, heartaches. Birthdays, Valentine's, and some holidays. Yes, a year of extraordinary friendship, sisterhood and all the stuffs that come in between.

She's one of the craziest and coolest girl I know who didn't mind spending over stationaries and inks just so I could get a note everyday. EVERYDAY. She hardly said a word about that being too demanding of me. Although she didn't have much to say, she kept all the notes coming, just because I love them.

And here are just some of the love she sent my way:

And this is our own alphabet, yes, we're crazy like that.

Sadly, I couldn't read our brilliant little conversation here. This must be amnesia. Tsk.

#

She was my bestest, and somewhere in this great big unpredictable world, I lost her. It might sound like an overstatement, but my heart bled for missing, for wanting, for needing - her. Yet, she wasn't there. And I wasn't there for her just the same.

We grew apart. I was devastated. I think we both were.  She never came back. I was dumb enough not to get her back. Not to write her letters, not to visit her in Zambales, not to call her as often as I could, not to do anything that would have eased the pain from a part of me that died, a part that had always been left out, and was left empty for only her to occupy.

When someone dear to me died, I wished for her to be there. I needed her to be there. I couldn't even remember if I called her, or asked her to come to my rescue. Maybe it was my fault, I haven't told her that I felt lost and alone without her.

She got married, and it ached, me not being a part of it. Not long after, she gave birth to a baby girl, and I wasn't at her side either, to offer a congratulations, to share with her joy, to ask her if it had been really difficult, or what it felt like to finally be a mom.

I had my chance to ask her and tell her all those when she asked me to be a godmom, but I dind't have the extra time, nor the resources to pull of a Manila-Zambales stunt. And I regret not having to make a way for that.

#

After six years, it still doesn't feel quite right. She was the closest I've come to having a sister, and she still is. And I will build back our bridge now. I'm going to write her letters, call her just because. Maybe we won't have the same commitment to friendship, but I'll love it [friendship] no matter what. And this time, I'm not letting go even if I have to. 'Cause she may not be my best friend anymore, but she's my sister by heart, and I love her like that.

Side note: Would love to put a picture of us together, but there aren't any. Why we haven't had a picture together, I don't know. Those days weren't the time of the digital camera craze. What a waste.

Self-loathing

I love quotes. I take inspiration from them, and apply them to my life whenever necessary. Today, I chance upon reading an excerpt of this on my friend's Facebook status. I craved for more and decided to look upon the whole poem instead.

After a While by Veronica Shoffstall

After a while you learn
The subtle difference between
Holding a hand and chaining a soul
And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn't always mean security.

And you begin to learn
That kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes ahead
With the grace of a woman
Not the grief of a child

And you learn
To build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground is
Too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way
Of falling down in mid flight

After a while you learn
That even sunshine burns if you get too much
So you plant your own garden
And decorate your own soul
Instead of waiting
For someone to bring you flowers

And you learn
That you really can endure
That you are really strong
And you really do have worth
And you learn and you learn
With every good bye you learn.

I wish that it is as easy as it sounds to hug yourself, or to give yourself a reassuring kiss, a pretty compliment, an unexpected tap on the back. If it were, then my world could really melt on its own, not depending on anything or anyone to define or bring it happiness.

So I'll try to do just that by making this affirmation:

This is me hugging and kissing myself, jabbing in some compliments and unexpected taps on the back. This is me melting my own world, one that revolves around people I love, but mostly out of me. Yes, ME.

Level 25+

Turning twenty five wasn't really that big of a deal, not even close to being in high spirits for me too. Expectations do let you down. I wonder whoever made up that word to describe such a horrible feeling that sums up undesirable results most of the time. So, yes, in a shorter term, my birthday sucked. But misery had not stopped me from believing that there are greater things ahead, that my happiness is my own and should not be defined by others, nor should it be dependent to someone other than myself.

So amidst all the crises, PMSing, and an earthquake scare, I decided to do something remarkable, just to up the ante.

Remarkable and upping the ante = kite flying. Meet our kite, Matanglawin.

Now look who's also enjoying.

Side note: Another crossed-out item on my list. Hurrah!

Shouldn't there be a 'sorry' somewhere? Or maybe 'where are you?' to begin with?

I felt UNWANTED, UNAPPRECIATED, and UNCARED FOR
all in one night. Pfft!

Loved Unloved

Side Note: Oh love, just woo and explain. You know I 'm always more than willing to listen.

Song-inflicted pain

photo credit to Hidden Agenda

I felt a sudden but familiar welled-up emotion for the guy who melted my heart with laughter, and broke it just the same - Emon. I am close to tears as I try to mend this hole in my heart - one that needed to be supervised for it not to expand, one that needed a patch of glued cement, one that has been stitched over and over for four years now.

Sometimes I wish I could just shut you out of my life, but the thought alone makes me cringe because I know that's next to impossible. You have vandalized my soul with permanent marker and I'm way too weary to erase whatever's left of you, and we.

I ache for all the things that we've done together. I ache for all the goals and dreams we never met, for the love letters I've read and wrote, and for a whole bunch of stuffs that I no longer remember.

Yes, your memory do stings, in a ticklishly-sad way. It bites hard and sweet.

Alright.

I surrender to this nostalgic feeling.

*Tears*

Side Note: Maybe I should get rid of the radio so I won't get to hear that song and feel this way over again. Or the next time, maybe I should just re-tune.

Real-life Nightmare

I just don’t understand; I contradict myself. I hate how this twenty-four-year-old-grown-ass lady can still make unprofessional decisions in life. I cannot believe how I ended up confusing people around me (myself included), and forgetting the gravity of my actions, at times.

I know, twenty-four is just a number, and the number of age in years has nothing to do with me being RESPONSIBLE, PROFESSIONAL and TRUST-WORTHY. But, at a certain point, I think I owe it to myself, to my parents, to my colleagues, my life partner, and friends to be all those.

Now I deem it necessary to deprive myself of all things that make everyday life comfortable, to teach this sometimes-stupid self a lesson; and to eventually be able to admit upfront that “It’s my fault. I’ll own it up.”

Side notes: A wish could really be of help right now. So if you're a genie, please let this be a dream. And if I'm dreaming, could someone please wake me?

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?

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

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.

Me and my poor judgment

I've never been really this concerned about making people happy, aside from Dada, Mama and EJ that is. But today, it just felt so immature of me to not share some time with the people who I practically live with, particularly my aunt.

My Auntie Ling is no ordinary aunt. She's having trouble distinguishing fact from fiction; reality from hallucinations. She talks to her imaginary friends, like a child does with her dolls. She covers her ears in terror sometimes because she says there were echoes. She argues with herself most of the time, something I regularly do, but silently. She does it bold, and loud. I distanced from her because it felt nuts sometimes to want to talk to her when suddenly her mood shifts into being nice to being really mad for no apparent reason at all.

And it never really was easy for any of us to deal with these kind of things, and neither was it for her.

I just find it too selfish of me to deprive her of the interpersonal connection, which I know would help her be her old self again. And it may seem a bit too late for this realization, but today, it just feels right to give her back the joy of being with family.

Side note: For what its worth, I am sorry for all the times I let my obscurely naive judgment ruin any relationship that should in fact be cherished and loved.

Here's to yesterday

My life isn’t that much of a mystery. I have always been very transparent about how I feel about certain things that people ask me about. I have always been a story-teller, and I find joy in trying to tell the world how I lived and how I continue to do so. It was, somehow, a habit I couldn’t break… until I finally reached the point of no return where I learned that a little mystery won’t hurt me, and that untold secrets about me and my world wouldn’t make a difference at all. And together with the loss of habit, I lost my “so-called” friends.

At first, I felt like we were just giving ourselves some time off from being together for four years. It was something I never asked for, nor wanted (though I was glad that we had the space apart). After a month or two, I thought we’ll then reconcile our friendships and continue to enjoy each other’s company like we always do. However, the odds were great, and suddenly we got too uncomfortable to go back to where we were before. Things just ended up quite obscure this time that we can’t patch it up anymore.

Side note: Changing something for the better doesn’t make one less of a person, nor does it make one less of a friend.