Only Hope

 

Her thoughts are scattered in different directions. Her mind can’t still grope the reality of it.

It all started with an email. Now she’s scared that his last is gonna be the end of it.  It would just be fitting, wouldn’t it?

But what can she do?  Her and him only  have had  have had three weeks. They had two years.  How can she compete with that? How can she compete with two years’ worth of history? 

But what if he’s the ONE? Doesn’t she owe it to herself to find out?  To fight for what they had, for the possibility of what they’re going to have?

The thing is, she doesn’t have great expectations in the first place.  She exactly knew what she was getting herself into. The thing she didn’t count on was that she started to really like him. Dare say, started to care too?

So yeah, at this point, she’s going to give him his space…. to think.  To choose.

She so wanted to let him know how much he means to her but she knows when she’s beat. She may be tough and all, but she also knows how and when to pick her battles.  Besides, she needs some time to think things over too. Clear her head.  This time, she knew better than just hope……

It sounds so clichéd but what was it that they say?

” That if you really love someone, set him free. If  he comes back, it’s meant to be. If  he doesn’t, then he’s not yours to have in the first place…….”

So, the process begins. The waiting. The hoping.

Although deep inside her she wants to scream out,

Pick me. Choose me. LOVE me.

 

xoxo

Unspoken

Soft whispers, almost heard but never spoken…………

How do you really feel about me?  Because if you feel nothing at all, then please, please don’t make me fall for you more than I already have.

I’m scared. I’m afraid that if I care too much, you get a free pass to break my heart.

I’ve never asked what you saw….

Will I ever be enough?

Will you please just once, tell me what you’re thinking?

What are your dreams? How do you see yourself 5 years from now? 10 years?

We’ve been together for quite a while but it still seems that I don’t know a lot about you.

I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you anymore.

I wish that you would just let me in. Because you know what? No matter how hard I tried, you always shut me out. Whenever I come close, you pull away. And that gets tiring after a while. 

I’m not her.

I know I said I love you. I know I said I thought I loved you. Truth? I LOVED YOU.

 

To Mai, with Love

Inspired by Hope Dies Last.

Dear Mai,

By the time you read this, I imagine  that in the hopefully-not-so-distant future you are curled up in your favorite chair with a mug of hot chocolate in hand, reminiscing your past love(s) and at the same time being grateful for finally finding the ONE.

It has been a long journey, hasn’t it? It only seemed yesterday that that fateful day happened — when the rug was unceremoniously yanked from underneath you and your world came crashing down. I remembered how hurt  and broken you were. You needn’t say the words. The look on your face said it all.

And you thought you’d never get over HIM.

Yet here we are. And I am so happy for you.  I know you have wanted this for so long  that  I can’t even express the joy and the excitement that I feel for you. And although I know deep inside that you are happy too, sometimes I can’t help but wonder what if ?

What if  he never left you?

What if  he wanted you back?

What good would that do?

You wouldn’t have known your strength if he had stayed. You wouldn’t have known the depth of your feelings had he not broken your heart. You wouldn’t have become a better person — a little bit jaded, yes, but a little bit more wordly and wise.

And honestly, you’d be stupid to take him back. I’m sorry for being crass, but I love you too much to see you get hurt and broken again. Plus I don’t think I could stand all the ensuing dramas after that. Remember when each sad lovesong became your theme song?  How each sob, unrequited love story was your own? And how foolish you were to believe all that he said? 

But you know what?  He’s an even bigger fool for letting you go. He was right on one thing though — you deserve somebody better.  I remember all that and more. I remembered how those very same words haunted you, gave you hope that maybe, just maybe…..

It’ll always be a maybe.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

It couldn’t have been more black and white than that.

Mere memories. Just another old photograph.

I know you thought you loved him. And by God, I did too, but the truth is, you only loved the man you thought he was.  I know sweetie, the truth hurts. 

The truth also sets you free. 

It feels good, doesn’t it? Take a deep, slow breath and let it all out. Suddenly, it’s not that gray anymore, the world has become a tapestry of colors that you didn’t even notice before. And for a moment, you even think that the sun is shining a little bit brighter.

And I know, vintage me, as if on cue, your the ONE is walking towards you… with that warm smile of his that you have come to know and  love, slowly spreading across his face as he sits besides you and gives you a tender kiss. As he playfully brushes that strand of hair away from your face, you look deeply into his eyes and think how lucky you are to have finally found him. When in reality, Mai, he is lucky to have found you.

Remember when you used to ask your friends how’d they know if he’s the one? Now you finally understood.

You just know.

You realize that those damned poets do know what they’re writing about. That when they write about being blind for so long and finally have seen clearly for the first time, you finally get it. That finally, it felt feels right. 

So, eventhough that I know this time it’s different, hold back a little bit. But love, nonetheless.

Take this moment to let him know that having him in your life makes it better every single day that you’re living it.  Tell him that no matter what happens you’ll always be here and that you love him. Now, forever and everyday in between.

We’ve been through a lot, you and I. And as this letter comes to a close, remember always, always that I love you, Mai. You probably might not hear much from me these days but always know that I’m just a thought away.

Take care.

Your inner drama queen,

Moi

Linger

Typical Monday.  After a fun weekend, it’s back to the old grind. The only bright spot is that I’m only working three days this week plus it’s thanksgiving this Thursday, my favorite holiday of the year.

As typical as Mondays gets, I look at the calendar and the date stares back at  me — November 23.

Fuck.   As much as I don’t want to remember, it hits me.  A year ago was the first time we met.  And with my mind warping at full speed, I got sucked into a vortex full of memories…. from the awkwardness of that first date, to the easy banter thereafter…. the thrill of the first kiss… the tender unguarded moments…. to the pain and heartbreak of goodbyes.

Stop it. Stop thinking about it. 

 But I can’t. It’s wave after wave after wave.

Places. Things. People. It just brings back too many memories.

Damn.  Just like that, the pain I felt was just as horrible as it was months ago.  I thought it got numbed by time. I was at the point where finally, FINALLY I was moving on.

Then this. Great.

I have to yank myself back to reality. I have to shut my mind because just the thought of it is too much to bear. 

Right now I am hating myself.

Snap out of it! You remember how you were, how low you felt after all was said and done? Do you really want to go back to all of that?

Honestly, for a moment, I almost succumbed. The only thing that’s keeping me from doing it is that I don’t want to give him the satisfaction that there are rare moments when I think of him. Of us.

It’s not one of the great loves that books and poets write about.  But given the right circumstances, I think it has the potential to be one.  You know how they always talk about having the right love at the wrong time? Even Barry Manilow sang one about it. But is there such a thing as having a wrong love at the right time?

Or better yet, the wrong love at the wrong time?

So yeah, I’m ready for this day to be over.

And as typical as Mondays get, I hate Mondays. Always have. Always will.

Tuesday’s another day.

xoxo

What a Difference a Day Makes

Eleven months ago,  a girl met this guy.  They went for coffee and spent time getting to know each other.  She thought at first that he didn’t really like her because at the end of the date, he didn’t even walk her to her car. Turned out that he was nervous and thought that she didn’t really like him, too. 

She sent him a thank you email and with that, he asked her out again.  And the second date was followed by a third, a fourth, a fifth,  and like they say, the rest is history.

Fast forward to six months later, everything blew up in her face.  Broken and rejected, she tried to pick up the pieces of what’s left of her.  Obsessively dissecting what went wrong, what she could’ve done that would’ve made a difference…. shoulda, coulda, woulda. But you see the thing was,  there was no fixing it. Not when the other has already decided that it wasn’t working for him. Not when he has already made up his mind. Not when he has already given up.  How can you fight against that?

A friend of hers once asked, ” Do you think he’s the ONE? “  and for a moment she was rendered speechless because she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know! How could that be???  Weren’t you supposed to know especially if you’ve been spending time together? Whatever happened to soulmates and that sort of stuff?  That should’ve been her first clue… but blinded as she was, she pushed that doubt in the back of her mind.

Fast forward to present-day…. after all the dramas and after some of her friends threatened to disown her (they can only take too much LOL )…. she thinks she’s finally getting over him.  Getting over — and not just getting by. They were right, just when you thought you’ll never get over that one person, the one with all the almosts… you do — a couple of  months and some powdered donuts  later LOL. Not that she had donuts….

To borrow a quote, ” I remember the boy, but I don’t remember the feelings anymore.”

xoxo

Buts

I took my chances, but I lost.

I thought maybe… just maybe… but it remained just a maybe.

I wished he was  “the ONE”,  but it wasn’t meant to be.

I tried fixing it, but it’s hard when it’s already broken in the first place.

I thought that him and I were in the same place, but I was left standing on my own.

I hoped that we could somewhat still be friends, but I was a fool to believe so.

I was hurting and broken but I’m all glued back together now.

And I make no apologies for how I chose to repair what he broke. I know I’m better off.

Tequila, anyone?

 

xoxo

Incomplete

Dear Diary…………

 

I haven’t written those words in eight years. Eight long years. Not that I’ve forgotten it. I guess I just… grew up. And in the process I left it behind. Gone were the times when I felt so desolate that I would lock myself up in my room and write to my heart’s content — pouring all my dreams, my triumphs… even my heartbreaks.

 

With the advent of technology, it got replaced by my blog(s). But you know what? It doesn’t feel the same… there’s nothing like putting pen into paper and just letting go. No inhibitions. No ground rules.

 

Yet here I am…..

 

Right now I kinda have the difficulty of finding the right words. Before, all I have to do was begin with “Dear Diary” and the words would just flow. Although I have to admit that most of the stuff that I wrote were about my insecurities, angst and dramedies. Come to think of it, I wrote when I was at my lowest of lows, saddest of sad….. I never wrote well when I was at my utmost happiest. I guess dramas and tragedies were my muse.

 

And it hasn’t changed much since.

 

I thought I was finally happy for the first time in my life. But of course, it can never be. Yeah, I may be smiling and goofy and stuff, but you have to understand that that took years of practice. How come when I thought and hoped, even prayed, that maybe, just maybe …. I’m bound for disappointment? I’m not asking for too much.

 

I thought I’ve finally understood my demons…. conquered them even. But I guess it’s the truth when they say that you can never outrun your past. Not that I ever did. Now I’m not even sure that I faced them either. Truth is, I feel like I’m lost….

 

I’m having my doubts again. I knew in the back of mind that I guess I can never have everything. Everything has a price. That’s why for the longest time ever, I was truly afraid to be completely happy. Because I know sooner or later, I’ll end up losing it all. And lose indeed.

 

I mean, what’s wrong with me? What’s so utterly wrong? Am I that unlovable? There’s REJECT tattooed all over my forehead. Yeah I know you’d say that I’m crazy for thinking those thoughts but I never said I was normal either. Another thing to blame on my parents LOL….

 

I should’ve known better than be vulnerable. Shoulda. Coulda. Woulda. How can I be sooooo stupid? Haven’t I mastered the art of running towards the nearest exit as soon as somebody gets too close for comfort? I thought I could finally begin to trust….

 

And look where it landed me.

 

I’m getting quite tired of the cycle. You trust. You love. You lose. Unrequited love is such a bitch. It hurts, but it’s the truth. Sometimes I wonder will I ever have that one person whom I can bare my innermost self into? I hate it that I’m sounding like Ally McBeal but what can I say, I’m a hopeless romantic. Always was. Always is.

 

I guess happiness is all relative. Maybe I am happy and I just don’t know it. Or maybe it’s just that I am looking for it in the wrong places that it’s right there, in front of me. Maybe…..

 

One could only hope, right?

 

 

Reasons

Here I am on a chilly Saturday evening. The weather has certainly changed and I can already smell and feel the crisp autumn air.  As the seasons changed, I have finally started to move on.

Has it almost been three months?  Time surely flies by so fast that it seemed like everything now is a blur. I guess I’m healing nicely. I don’t cringe or wince anymore just thinking how it all went down the drain.  Like what  Hope has written, all that’s left is the sweet,  sweet sadness of almost.  How I almost got him. How he almost got me. Wait, he did get me. How we almost got it right. Almost, but not quite. Close, but no cigar.

We stood by the edge of the precipice, held hands even, stared down into the unknown…. but unlike Hope, instead of closing our eyes and taking that giant leap together, he let go of my hand as I jumped. I saw him at the edge, watching me fall into that giant abyss of  nothingness.

Maybe walking away is the safest thing to do. We’re better off, right?  We’re better off walking away knowing that in the end, it’ll never work out. Better now than later, when we’re both thick in the middle of it. 

Was it then naught for nothing?

Not everything has fallen by the wayside. There were plenty of reasons why we should’ve stayed together. But sadly, there were a lot more reasons why we said goodbye instead. It’s hard to fight for something when it was doomed to fail even in the beginning.  Carpe diem, right?  That’s the thing with expectations, it’s just a setup for disappointments.  

We both still need a lot of growing up to do.  They were right — fools rush in. And like the fool that I was,  I was even willing to sacrifice all that I am.  I fell for him for the wrong reasons and I tried desperately to make things work out for all the wrong reasons.  Even when in the end, all that was left in me were doubts.

He told me that I deserve to be with somebody who really wanted to be with me. Problem was, I wanted it to be HIM.

I think that that was the most cruel and most selfish thing one could ever probably say. And how ” plus one”  is the loneliest number.   What an utter, total rejection.  Oh, aside from the classic, ” It’s me, not you” when what it really meant was it was really you.  Was I that  jaded??????

Like I said, I still have a lot of growing up to do. I still have a lot of figuring out to do. But one thing is for certain, I’ve come to realize that  I am better off.  That indeed, it’s him and not me.  That I don’t need a relationship to define who or what I am anymore. 

And if he wanted me back? Ask me that same question a couple months ago and I would’ve said, “Yes!” a million times over. But now? Honestly? I don’t know. Would I really subject myself through all of that all over again? The not knowing where I stand, the uncertainty? What I  do know is that unless and until we both sort out our own personal issues, we can never be. Not unless we both learn to trust. No assumptions. I’ve accepted that.

And if someday our paths cross again? Who knows, we might even exchange a hello or two.

In a way, having your heart broken is having a myocardial infarction. It can be life threatening, depending where the infarct and how extensive the damage is.  And what you need is time. Time to heal. So after almost three months status post, I am finally there. Almost.  Not quite, but getting there.

xoxo