Laserlight

I woke up with a start, nursing a hangover from last night. I had flaming shots, different types of cocktail drinks and lots of beer. I had a violent reaction on the pavements after that. While sitting on the gutters, hiding behind a Sportivo in front of the bar that I was in, there was a man who had violently experienced being thrown from his motorcycle because it crashed against a moving Honda City, slammed his head on the road and had blood gushing out of his head. I couldn't react on that as I was really contemplating on when will I get home and sleep the whole night, or morning, whatever.

There came the phone call.

To cut to the chase, I vaguely remember whatever it was that prompted me to say what I really want to say and voice out my feelings to someone who isn't supposed to know about it. All I remember is I have talked to two different people, the first one being such a douche, the second one, being the eager and supportive.

I am on the point of transition – from being the aggressive to being the passive subject in this situation. Waiting is not fun, really. I don't know if I could handle this, if this is really for me, or if this is just one of those things where something as serious as this becomes a joke to other people. I don't want to discover that I have become a part of a prank, or I have been the subject of it. I don't want to be played no more, I don't want to be traumatized again by being pushed aside like some rag doll that no one really wants.

I want it to be true so bad. I want everything to not be a joke.

But.

If everything was just an accident, whether it be on purpose or not, I don't want to be left behind again with tears on my eyes and bruises on my ego and pride. I am a strong person, and if this is just one of those times of pure stupidity and impulsiveness of other people, I think it is time to put up those fucking barriers and walls around me again.

Yea, you can go through those barriers just as easily as you have caused me to build them up again – but only if you want to.

Perspectives

Life's fun when you don't expect it. I could tell you my life in various playlists that I'd probably mash together, I could tell you that right now almost everything is going smoothly except for some few mishaps that I have created all by myself.

Life's fun when you don't really think about it. I could sleep all day and all night without worrying of failing on my quizzes (because well, I probably don't have one). I could stare at my crush in peripheral visions, yes, I could do that. I could go surf the internet with all my heart's content.

Life's fun when you live it. Living is hard when you don't know how to. It doesn't mean partying around, drinking booze and all that shit, or splurging money on clothes and shoes and bags or everything. Life could also be fun just eating the ice scramble you bought from the vendor at the corner of the street, without worrying if it's dirty or not.

You could probably think of many reasons why life could be fun, and just because your crush friendzoned you doesn't mean it couldn't be. Sometimes, we have to put up a fight and show everyone what we're made of.

Better in Time

It's very ironic to think that I am still such a newbie when it comes to introductions. I still feel like I am barging in someone else's stupor whenever I try to suddenly impose an idea in a sentence. I also feel like I am unable to organize my thoughts in a fashion that we were always taught in school. With this, I feel traumatized already.

I feel traumatized. I am traumatized. I am traumatized by the way the latest episode of Game of Thrones ended: The Red Wedding. Though I have read about the fate of the Starks before, it was still a shock to me having seen the scene enacted in a brutally repulsive kind of way. I still want to cry.

I still want to cry because I can still remember that feeling when I opened a chapter in the seventh book of Harry Potter and read that silver blood was coming out of Dobby; the searing and agonizing pain that Harry felt when he dug the tomb of the loyal house-elf in the traditional Muggle way. I feel that sadness I felt when Tonks, Lupin and the adorable Fred Weasley died in battle. Traumatizing.

I feel traumatized because I have never learned. Aside from being unable to give meaningful introductions to my gibberish thoughts, I also find it ironic that I would feel a lot differently now in comparison to my last blog post.

Amidst all the trauma and repercussions that the past events did to me, I can hear my mother's voice telling me not to show or give my soul to people even if they're my friends, and if ever my mom would discover what the hell is going on in my mind right now, I will probably, no not probably, I will hear her say "I told you so." in her high-pitched voice.

Trauma. What a funny word.

I feel traumatized. I want to get through this like getting through the previous ones. I want to be free from this kind of schadenfreude that I am feeling towards the people who have hurt me, including George RR Martin, for having killed a happy idea (yes, the Starks) inside me.

I want to fucking break free from this and love myself more. As the Italians would say, "meglio soli che mal accompagnati."

A little bit of paranoia

I can feel the boredom that I could always associate with summer. I am not a beach bum, or even a swimming pool kind of girl. I enjoy the outdoorsy ambiance of white sand and all that shit or the feel of jacuzzi on my skin, but I don't really experience the exhilarating feeling of the waves on my senses. I don't swim. I can't swim. Hell, I don't even know if I could ever learn. So if I am on a boat or a cruise ship and the universe conspire against me and let them both sink, I think I might prefer that I would knock my head onto a hard surface and die rather than try to stay alive by trying to swim with tremendous and futile efforts. Haha.

I feel so over bored, the kind of superficial boredom that one experiences when he has nothing to do. It is not like I do not have anything to do. I could clean the whole house, cook relentlessly, write everything that goes on inside my head, or drink a whole lot of coffee. I could go out with people and have a drink or two, or I could also try to exercise, or meditate or even do yoga. BUT TO NO AVAIL. I really feel bored. Didn't I say it already?

So, conversations as awesome as ice cream and pizza are always welcome, not only at these kinds of moments, but also everyday. In this time of jeje fads and Facebook mania, meaningful yet meaningless change of stories is very rare and very hard to grasp. Luckily, I found one. But among the stories that were shared, there were two pieces of information that I have realized: one - that I have amazing and loyal friends and two - people are not really what they seem. The one that I'd like to give attention right now is the second. (I might do a different blog post about the first as it really deserves a story of its own.)  People are not really what they seem. It is very true that not all that glitters is gold. People choose what to show you and it's up to you how you decipher things from that. The unfair thing that underlies in this situation is when you, as a person and at an educated one at that, choose to think positively about the other yet you are judged even before he/she knows you well.

The ultimate lesson is: be very careful who you trust. Never let your guard down. A little bit of paranoia would help, but don't overdo it. 

Post credits

For the nth time (I have lost track at how many times I tried to write again), I am willing myself to write. I am willing myself to let the words in my head swim through these keys. So here I am, really trying. As I am writing this, I am staring at my beautiful cousin whose eyes are imploring me to take a look at her while she's turning on every light in this house. I must resist.

For the last months since I have written my last blog post, so many things have happened. This post, I would like to dedicate to the apparent end of my freshman year in college with flying colors. Who would have thought that I still have it in me?

My "success" in finishing a topsy-turvy year is marked by different things, by ups and downs but mostly by the latter. I have lost myself and I am now on the process of finding it again, albeit uneasily.

With this, I would like to dedicate this year to you, yes you, you know who you are. This is a mutual dream, a long overdue one, for me to finally try to go back to school again with the hopes that I will live my true potential. This is a mutual dream: a dream that has brought us together; a dream that we have, for such a long time, been dreaming consistently, almost always the topics of our long conversations and the ending of our realizations.

Thank you for believing in me. I would not be here if not for you. You were there for me amidst all the indecisiveness that has once plagued me. You were there for me, encouraging me and giving me something that I could hold on to.

Thank you. Even if you will not bother to read this anymore, I still feel grateful, so I give the credits to you. Thank you. You will always be a part of me. We will remember each other for so many things, and this one is one of them.

Thank you for breaking my heart, for breaking my spirit, but most of all, thank you for the courage, the strength and the love for myself that I have rediscovered.

This one goes to you... The rest of the years that will follow, I will dedicate to myself.

Insatiable by Meg Cabot

 

It was a drag having to read 400 pages of confusing point-of-views. I was expecting something better from Meg Cabot after reading Abandon (which is okay, but not awesome). This is just like any other bandwagon-vampire-books, I didn't quite understood what the real plot of this is. The fact that Lucien doesn't sparkle like Edward Cullen is a positive side, though.

Sober Gibberish

This is one of those nights that you wish didn't end, when you have someone to talk to and your attention is diverted into something that is not depressing. This is one of those nights when you badly needed a drink and you got what you wanted. This is one of those nights that when you end it, you did not expect it the way it did.

I am tipsy, not drunk, as I can still write with unwavering words.

This is one of those nights that you wish you had someone to share it with; one of those nights that you miss being with that person that you had in mind. This is one of those nights that you dread to be alone, as loneliness will come visit you.

I am quite sober and I'd give myself a 6 if I am to rate it from 1 to 10.

This is one of those nights that you wish you had the courage to not accept defeat, as the acceptance of everything that had happened is beginning to dawn on you. This is one of those nights that when you think about it, is just another same night with you.

I am having a major depressive episode, and the alcohol is not to blame.

This is one of those nights that you wish had come into your life sooner, because it if had, you will never have to endure this over and over again.

Sadly Written

I still miss you, you know. I miss you, too. Despite what you think about me, I miss you and your crazy attitude. Despite all the horrible things you've done to me and the terrible things I've done to you, missing you is still inevitable. The time we spent on each other has been reckless... reckless and stupid. We had shared so many things with each other, but the colossal thing that has been absent was the connection - inner connection. Our communication was so poor that we didn't realize that every problem we had was left tolerated, thus, unsolved.

Looking at your pictures makes me realize so many things: one, that you've given me a part of you. Two: I have done my best in giving you a part of me. Three: I've been brutally bitchy that I didn't give a flying fig about what I really felt for you. It was something that I really didn't know. I loved you, yes, but something was terribly missing that I haven't been able to grasp up until several months ago. I cannot love so wholeheartedly when a big part of me still lives in the past; in the past that was so precious to me that I couldn't let go of.

This is what you make of memories. Memories are like needles that pierce through your heart. Memories, like the beautiful things in between those menacingly painful ones that we have, are like dead stars in the night. Those are the memories that you don't know what to do: to remember or to forget. But remembering the times bring a lot of pain in my heart, as I am well aware that I've been such a great disappointment and heartbreak to you. This, this is what you make of memories. But then again, these memories have become a part of me, and while I think of the things that I need to do, I smile at the thought of your smiling eyes.

I am sorry. I am sorry for everything. I am sorry you've been victimized by my dysfunctional thinking. I am sorry that you've been a collateral damage towards my goal of becoming a better person. I owe you a lot... a fucking lot that when I think about you, I still cry.

I am sorry. I miss you, too, but I have to move on.

Wonderwall

The instances of me having a crush on someone as intense as this are so rare that I am at a loss for words and actions when such situations arise. As obnoxious as this may sound, I have always been the one to be pursued, or to be the person a guy would have a crush on. I've always had the power to say YES or even NO to someone; but it doesn't mean I have never been dumped. Oh, I have been - but that is water under the bridge now and I do not feel like talking about it because, really.. why would I even bother?

I am drawn to guys who seem to have something wrong with them. I am a magnet of douches and jerks who often turn out to have golden hearts inside them. The problem about me is that when I have seemed to tap that faucet of change in them, I get so bored that I need to get away. Or not. It just seemed like I have never been satisfied with what they could and could not give me. It felt like I was expecting them to save me, too.

If truth be told, I think that I always need to be saved, not from the vicious vices around, or from the people surrounding me, but I need to be saved from my uncanny way of thinking. I think too much, I over analyze things and sometimes I get so obsessive-compulsive that I need a steadying factor to keep me on my ground. There are also times that makes me wonder if I have ADHD or something because I have a problem maintaining my focus. I am a born multitasker, and I tend to multitask in every aspect of my life. Including having two relationships at once. I know, you're thinking "bitch", right? But I got over that. People change. For the better, yes.

In those years that I have been in a relationship, (hey, I've had only two serious relationships. I was never a player.) I have never quite thought that the day that I'd be imagining myself with another person would come. The idea of me swooning and waiting for some guy to notice me was so far-fetched that this makes me cringe. I'd like to think that I am a mature person, and admitting that I have a crush on someone is something that I'd be doing in a snap... But no. I could not do it. I could not have the courage to do it. I have this fear of rejection that I don't know if I'm putting up walls around me just so no one could enter. I have this idea that if I say it first, I would fucking lose my pride, my precious pride that I'm clinging onto as I feel like it's the only thing that is left of me now.

I want to save him. I want to know what is wrong with him and I want to make it right. At the same time, I long to be saved, too. I want to be saved. I want that someone to save me from myself; from the pits of self-destruction and my unending search for proximity. I want that someone to make me feel wanted and loved. I want him to make me feel like I am truly home and his arms are where I belong. I want to be with my happy self again, in love and free.

So if you are reading this, you know what to do.

Like, what the hell?

I am actually having a very bad time. Really bad. I mean, come on. Why don't other girls have allergies, especially on their legs, and I do? Why? I've seen an allergy specialist, whatever the hell you may call them, and her verdict? I am basically, basically (mental, if you ask me) allergic to every food that has preservatives in it. Like what the fuck? So I have to drink soya milk and all that shit, but because I am lactose intolerant, too, I don't get to enjoy milk as one would like to enjoy it. Ice cream, anyone?

Secondly, I am terribly vexed about the lack of things to do now that it is already semestral break. Hello? We've been on sembreak since the 6th of October and all I did was drink my heart out. I'm having beer abs already!! I wanna go to the gym but as a couch potato and lazy ass that I am, can't do it. . . Nahhh. I'll go buy a book.

Third, I am feeling so sick being on Facebook all day, but it's like a habit I cannot break. Social life, I mean, REAL social life, where are you??!

So friends, (and crush - oh, should I tell you I like you or should I just stay put and wait 'til you bang your head against the wall and realize you've got it bad for me?) if you're reading this....


TEXT ME! ASK ME THE FUCK OUT!!! OH GOD I'M DYING. HAHAHAHA.

TOODLES!

Wam bam, thank you

What can I do to make you love me?

What can I do to make you care?

What can I say to make you feel this?

What can I do to get you there?

-The Corrs, What Can I do?

Since I do not know how to effin extrapolate the ideas in my head, here go the bullets! Yes, bullets.

* Birthday celebration = one of the best ever

* Intellectual conversations = love them

* Feelingera girls who wear short shorts and sitting like sluts and stuff and all that shit = hate them

* Alcohol = sometimes it's really the answer

* Old friends = smiley face!

* Beer = miss you, beer!

* Coffee = books

* Being alone = could get used to this

* Pink = on repeat 

* Sem break = infinite boredom

I need a drag!

Hakuna Matata

It's good to be single when you're surrounded with good people. I haven't really felt better about having a non-existent love life with a special someone before... but things do really change and for once in my adult life, I felt really good about it. I met with my high school friends and it was something that I will always be thankful for. Even though I've been away for the past eight years, they welcomed me with open arms when I came home. :) I'm so really grateful. (They were my classmates in First Year HS.)

So naniniwala talaga ako, when God closes a door, He really opens a window. This time, the window is so big I didn't miss it! So, thank you friends! Thank you for all the laughs, for the unbiased advises, unbiased opinions, the brutally frank and honest conversations over beer or coffee and for being there when I need to be with people who can completely, utterly accept me despite my flaws and our differences. I love you! Here's to forever friendship! :)

I love you P!nk :)

At some point in our lives, we feel like everything is not going right. When times like those come, I always find myself listening to a particular song that would actually help me lift up my moods. From Lady Antebellum, to Taylor Swift, to Miley Cyrus (yes, you read it right); Motion City Soundtrack, Muse, Typecast, Amy Winehouse and even Lily Allen -- for the second time, P!nk saved me. Here goes my song for the moment.:)

Boredom discoveries

A few days left and I'm turning into a twenty-something girl (woman?) who refuses to adhere to the society's immature belief that girls like my age should go, get a life, and settle down. 

Settling down? What settling down? Right now, I'm in my first year of college, a long overdue one. I'm quite enjoying the freedom of being a college student, the perks and the stress that comes with it. I'm learning new things... quite a bit, literally.. But the most important thing of all? I'm rediscovering myself.

I am, painstakingly, enduring some twinges of regret here and there because I haven't done any of this enjoyable things before. I was maddeningly glued to a single thought that turned out to be so fuckingly retarded: getting there. If you know me, you know what I'm talking about. Here comes the but.

It's annoying, really... to be at this age without having the means to live my life to the fullest. It's annoying because I could've done this before, but then again, it's better late than never. Rediscovering myself? That's the juicy part. I discovered that I'm really into guys who have chinky eyes, and I'm damn consistent. I discovered that I could have a crush on someone without having to resort to pathetic little text messages that would give him the red flag. Lastly, I discovered that being friendzoned is the worst feeling ever. Hahaha!

Seriously, why am I even bothering to write all these? Well, birthday girl (that's me, having the birthday jitters and the fear of growing old, lol), you are so bored with the semestral break that you want to go kick ass outside.

On second thought... never mind.

Looking at things in a different way

If truth be told, I've never thought that I'd be, at least once in my life, a Lasallian. Lasallians had not-so-nice reputation in the province when I was in High School. When people started to use the word 'conyo', the first thing to cross my mind is the elite circle of Green Archers and Blue Eagles... and all the other people who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Being a typical 'probinsyana', life is pretty simple for me. I only go to Manila when needed. I think I kind of get culture-shocked when I'm in there. It's still pretty much the same for me, still.

When I was thinking of going to college, the first choice was UP, of course, and then ADMU (syempre konting pangarap lang, hindi ko naman afford yan. haha.). De La Salle University, or any other De La Salle campus hasn't crossed my mind. Who would've thought that I'd be going there, much more in De La Salle Lipa? I thought, "if I go to La Salle, it should be in the main campus." I stereotype people in DLSL.

Even now, I still stereotype them, hahaha. Some people will kill me when they read this. I'm not too proud being a Lasallian in Lipa, but I'm not ashamed of it. But then, the tides really turn... Sometimes I find it enjoyable riding the bus going to and from the campus. Sometimes, I think that the universe conspired to "make me go there". Lately, I've been learning to appreciate the flaws of the campus. I'm learning to appreciate that the professors, even though they disappoint me sometimes, have the Batangenyo attitude that I would've missed when I went straight to DLSU... Yes, maybe I said that the education is really mediocre compared to that of the major universities in Manila, but I guess it's just really it in the province.

Somehow, I am thankful that I am going to DLSL. I've met so many people. I have fun with my younger classmates in the school cafeteria, aka Chez. I learn to appreciate the value of water and clean toilets and hand bidets when we were deployed to a rural elementary school. I laugh at my teachers' Batangenyo jokes. I can speak with my Batangenya accent and no one will laugh; I can make references to private Batangenyo jokes and people will understand. I think that I'm actually enjoying.

But, again, I also think that DLSL is only a stepping stone for me. When one dreams, one dreams high. One aims higher... and I think that Lipa is not a place for me to grow. I think that one day, I'll leave La Salle Lipa and go into a much larger environment, hence, with different kinds of people. I think I want to go some place else, where I can answer questions without standing up; where I can wear my tattered jeans; wear my corporate attire in a smart casual way; where I do not have to wear hellish high-heeled shoes while going up and down the stairs and where I can make a smart reference about something far-fetched and then they will get me.

One thing is for sure though: I will never look at Lipa Lasallians the way I looked at them (oh, at us) before. My mind is now open. :)

Animo La Salle! CHOS. hahaha!

Of leaving and coming home

I went to NAIA two days ago to send-off my sister. As I am fascinated by airports and the interesting pool of crowd to be found there, I can't help but cringe at the state of our country's airplane hub. It was a disaster.

Our airport - voted as the worst in the world - is really living up to its label. The road to Sucat (the route to the airport) is currently like hell for travelers: the jeepneys are stopping in the middle of the road without flashing signal lights, apparently for loading and unloading. People cross the street on a run, ignoring the dangers of doing so and the vehicles are promising candidates of a Guinness world-record for smoke-belching.

When we got to the airport, the parking lot was so congested and disorganized. Cars, vans and jeepneys lined up like undisciplined kids with their bodies parked in a distorted line which would make you arrive at a conclusion that accidents may likely occur. Convenience stores were also present with prices that doubles that of 711's. Outside the parking lot were more people walking nonchalantly on the streets; oblivious to the rampant arriving and departing vehicles. A famous fast-food chain is situated at the arrivals waiting lounge and adjacent to it is a mediocre coffee shop that would make your cheap and local coffee taste like heaven.

We arrived at the departure area ahead of time. To my utter dismay and annoyance, just outside the airport building were more, yes, more people present, taxis running and traffic commencing. There was even a media vehicle parked outside that just made it worse. The security guards tried hard to contain the chaos as the crowd bid their love ones goodbye.

I ushered my sister to the passenger entrance and the lady guard reprimanded me for trying to explain to my sister what to do as it was her first time to go back abroad by herself. I thought that she should be considerate because we were not causing any delay or whatnot. The side of the entrance was so full of people that you will not be able to decipher which ones were going to leave or not. Moreover, the screen that displays which airlines are open for check-in were so small you had to squint at it.

I was appalled at how ghastly the service is. For me, the airport is one of the most important thing in a country as it is the gateway for locals and international tourists alike. It is the first thing that a traveler could see from up above while the plane is landing - and rusty roofs with car wheels of different sizes on top of them is probably unimpressive for most people, not to mention that piles of garbage are never a welcome sight.

As I love my country, I hate all the discrepancies that I see in its portal to the world. I hate that we cannot go inside and accompany our love ones as they do in other countries. I hate that it doesn't give a sense of good feeling; that it doesn't exude the smell equal to that of a shopping mall. I hate that people who cannot afford to ride a plane can't take a look of what's inside the airport.

It is very disappointing for me, I am quite feeling really dismayed for a long while now, ever since I get to see the airports of other countries. Though it may seem like I am putting down my own, I am also quite hopeful that the government can do something about it. I certainly hope so. But I only have one wish: please don't let me start talking about what could be found inside NAIA. You might hate so much.

Middle finger and heart in one

It is funny that I thought when I'll be back home, things are gonna be different. It's funnier when I discover that the difference is littler than what I've expected. I have told myself so many fucking times that expectation is the rust that would destroy all my hopes. It would take up all my courage, exhaust all my strengths, and fortify my weaknesses.

I'm at a payphone trying to call home
All of my change that I have spent on you
Where have the times gone baby
It's all wrong, where are the plans I made for two


How could one continue on hoping and holding on when it's already hurting too much?
How could I possibly be that person who hurts another person and then one other person could possibly be hurting me in return? What are the odds that such situation shall arise? What would be the result?

I know it's hard to remember the people we used to be
It's even harder to picture that you're not here next to me
You said it's too late to make it
But is it too late to try?

Things get scary for me when it's time to sleep at night. I don't sleep much... I just tell myself I do. I think a lot before I sleep and thinking doesn't help me at all. I have so many regrets in life, and I am shitless scared that this would be another one for the list...

I've wasted my nights
You turned out the lights. now I'm paralyzed
Still stuck in that time when we called it love
But even the sun sets in paradise


Oh damn you. You are playing me. My heart is not an object to be played with. My intelligence shall never be insulted. I hate you. I hate you for making me feel like this. I hate you for being always the one having the power to melt all my defenses and then let me down in the end. Most of all, I hate you because I love you. I love you that it breaks my own heart just thinking about it. Oh damn.

Heartless people are people who, once, have loved too much.

Damn, again.

Casa Mia, Amore Mio

Hello Philippines!! It's been a long time since I've seen your rusty roofs from above the plane, your naked kids running along the street, your people who seem to suck up to everyone who works abroad, your dirty surroundings, and the most ironic of all, your grandiose and magnificent buildings that reflect the contradictory state of our country. Hear me when I say: I FUCKING MISSED YOU!!!! No matter how mediocre your airport is, how frustrating is the heat and the air conditioning inside, how ugly are the stores and how men stare at women who smoke as if they're sluts; there is no denying that for me, you are still the most frickin pretty country in the whole world! (Of course that is a bit too much, but hey, I'm just being patriotic. Our country is beautiful beyond words, it's the government and the undisciplined people that sucks.)

I still can't pretty much believe that after five years, I'm really here. I breathe the same air that my friends do and can ride a jeep and ditch tricycles. Seriously, why do they ask for a lot of money? They're a bit outrageous on their fare when you get to inhale all the smog while you're inside it. I prefer to walk, papayat pa ako! Hahaha!

At first I couldn't sleep because of the heat, or because I was jet lagged, but most of all, it just felt surreal that after years of hoping to come home and free myself from every nagging thought inside my head, from every agonizing pain, I'M REALLY HERE!!!!

So yes, three weeks and counting and I think I was culture shocked. I go out only on weekends, can't eat on fast foods, can't go to the market... can't fucking buy a toothbrush that is worth 200 bucks because that is waaaaay too expensive!!! :)) Nakaka culture shock ang presyo!

 But anyway, as the cliche goes: There. is. no. PLACE. like. HOME.

Hello June!

Things to do when I finally move on

Sometimes, there is a point in our lives when we ask ourselves questions that we can't seem to answer. Other times, we just let go of the feelings and try hard not to think about them... Many of us, of people who are hopelessly in love with love, we often stumble and get hurt. When these things happen, we ask, "why can't I move on?" But I realize, asking that makes no sense. So I devised a plan in my head and wonder about "what will I do when I finally moved on?"

First of all (sometimes this is the hardest part), I will throw his pictures away. I will delete every picture we have on my computer, eradicate all the online conversations, burn everything he gave me and be allergic to his name. What am I going to do with all those things? It will just make me remember his face when I see them. So, painful as it may, I will brave the odds and do it. 

I will delete his number on my cellphone and forget to remember every single digit. I will not drink and then text him words like "I love you" or in my most drunk days, "I hate you! Fucking asshole!" Of course if I text him and then I'm drunk it will probably end up like "Ihdhjgaytu".. you know. 

I will go to places we used to go and make new memories - alone or with friends. Maybe it will make me remember his face or the things we used to do, but hey, I moved on right? So I better get on with it. I will spit on the spot where he used to sit or stand and tell myself, "that serves him right!", convincing enough but not too much to make me feel the bitterness in my mouth. 

I will get a haircut, or a new hair color or just a fucking tattoo to symbolize my readiness to get on with my pretty life, or I could also have my whole body waxed or body hairs laser'ed so they won't grow back. Sometimes, the physical pain you inflict on your body can take away the pain you feel in your heart. But I must remember not to exaggerate or else I'll find myself jumping from the rooftop of his condo. Or some bridge. Whatever.

I will binge on ice cream because I wouldn't care anymore if I get fat and he'll be disgusted. I will buy lots of Swiss chocolates, or just chocolates; go to Italian restaurants and eat a lot of profiteroles and tiramisù, and the best therapy of all, I'll go fucking shopping 'til my wardrobe is completely new.

Those are just on the top of my list. My main problem right now is the how part. How to move on. How to forget all the goddamn memories, all the dreams we've built together, all the funny and crazy shenanigans we used to do. How could I love the place where we used to eat? How could I make myself happy while he's so enjoying himself in some girl's company? More importantly, how could I kill them or just completely wipe away their existence, much like Peter Bishop in Fringe? Hahahaha, kidding.

But seriously, how am I gonna get past this? I don't want to hope but deep inside... there's still that little spark that is wishing that things will go back the way they were...

In the meantime, I'll think of other plans.

To You

Some days I'm happy, other days I'm sad.
Some days I'm awful, other days I'm the best.
Some days I'm insecure, other days I'm brimming with confidence.

Have you ever felt so desperately low that you've tried every possible way to keep your energy up and then you fail miserably? I have. Many, many times. Just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse, there comes the challenge. Lately, the days are much of a challenge for me. With continuous struggle to find that happiness I so ever clamor for, I feel myself slowly losing my grip to the strengths that I, with much difficulty and lots of mishaps, have obtained.

There were so many unspoken words that I would like to speak now, so many emotions I would like to show; emotions that I have rarely entertained, emotions that I have never acknowledged. There were so many questions that I would like to ask, grudges that I have inside me that I've tried so hard to forget. After five years, everything is still inconclusive. Everything is still a waste of time. I have built up a wall to protect myself from everybody, but I realize, I've built this massive wall to protect myself from you, from everything you represent. They say, "the one who made you cry is the only one who can make you stop crying", and my heart has been crying for all the lost times, for the dreams, for the memories that have been etched into my mind, for the mistakes that I've been constantly doing and for the lack of courage. I have so much inside me, so much love bottled up for you. It hasn't been all rainbows and happiness for me, it hasn't been that great. One moment I forget, the next moment, my heart starts crying again.

I wanted to ask you, "Why?" just as you wanted to ask me the same thing. Why do you love me? Why do you keep on holding on to me? Why, if you really love me, did you do everything that has hurt me in ways you can never have imagined? I was willing to go so far.. I was willing to bet my whole life. You gave me nothing. Why, if I was willing to do such, did I do such a thing that has torn us apart? These questions were never asked, never been spoken. I gave you forgiveness without having thought so much what I had lost and what part of me has been wasted. As I ponder about it every night for the last years, I only know the answer now. I was hurt, too badly, that I now feel like I've been stripped off of a chance to have that happiness, happiness that you could only provide.

Yes, you were right, you triggered the events that has led us to this. Yes, you were right, had I been faithful, we'd never be here: wounded, heartbroken and idiot souls who are trying to take their lives back.

But I wanted to be right, too. I wanted to show you how stupid you were for treating me like you don't love me. I wanted to show you that one day, someone's going to see what I'm worth. In the middle of this love skirmish we have, you did see, you did realize, but you didn't really understand the magnitude and the gravity of what you have caused me... and I'm doing the same to you.

What happened to us? What happened to everything we have promised to each other? Is this really it? Why, why does it have to be you who has to be free? Don't I need to be free of this pain, too? Don't I need the time, too, to heal and really forgive and then eventually forget? I am in dire need of you, of that part of me that is deep within you. I am in dire need of my heart, of my heart that is left with you, that I can't give to any other. I am in dire need of myself, of myself that has been lost in you. And I can't do that, not without you. I want us to face this together, to heal each other, to overcome the biggest obstacle of our lives.

All I ask is for you to give back what I've been deserving for the longest time... to be the first. To be the first. Because whether you admit it or not, I have always been the second, the moment you told me the sickening words, "I can't."