May282012
May 20, 2012. 07:35 PM: I don’t know if I can wait. I made a mistake. A terrible mistake. Waking up and realizing that what I’ve been doing isn’t right and that I should stop. To tell myself to move on and walk away seems to be the hardest thing to do. To accept the fact that I was wrong and the fact that people told me so. I can’t. It’s just too hard. Too painful. Too messed up and unfair. I never wanted this to happen. Who would want to get hurt? Maybe I was just too blinded by the lies, hazed up by the happiness I felt while doing the mistake. People regret things they’ve done once it’s done, but why do I feel like I’m not completely wrong, I’m not entirely stupid to play the game, not ignorant about the thought that I’m putting myself half buried into the ground. I tell myself not to expect things, not to expect anything from you, not to expect you’d choose me. Some nights I wake up and find myself thinking of you and how I wish I was the one you’ve met first. I could’ve been the one who had your heart first, the one that made you happy first and the one you’d fight for first. Against all odds I was meant to be second. The person that comes next to your number one. The one who’d pick you up when you were down and the one who’d help you up and get things right. The one on wait. I’m scared every time I’m with you. Every time I make you smile, every time you’d jump for joy and give me a hug, every time you kiss me, tell me not to go and that everything is gonna be alright. It hurts me because I don’t know if you do those things ‘coz you mean it or ‘coz you know that’s what I want. I’m scared of the fact that I know I’ll never come in first in your heart and I’ll just forever be your other choice. Even now that I’m hurting, I’m afraid to cry. I’m afraid to shed these tears that have been waiting to flow down my face. I always believed that crying brings out the weak in you but now I realize that’s what makes you stronger. It takes courage to face something and accept it and for someone to cry, that’s even more courageous because the fact that that person has kept that pain inside for so long proves that even in the worst possible feeling ever, in one snap a smile covers up all the pain. You may have given me memories to cherish forever, but the amount of pain you’ve given me weighs a ton of lifetime to get over with. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that, good luck living the life you chose and I’ll have a hell of a blast with mine.
April112012
November 21, 2010. 9:45. Love. What does it really mean? People may write, sing and talk about this crazy little thing called love but what the hell is it really about? I spent a day doing nothing. The sweetness of doing nothing. Sometimes all we want to do is nothing, just lay down on the bed and stare at the blank sky waiting for the routine flight of airplanes pass by. I want to know why people fall in love. How they are able to risk everything just for love, by risk I mean The Notebook type of sacrificial love. How do I know I’m in love? Would it be like Usher’s moving mountains kind of love? Would I be like Ashanti’s foolish and fall in love with Destiny’s Child’s brown eyes? Damn. What is love? I see “love” come and go from people who claim they got it. They had it; sometimes people just lose it, but why? So should I say love is a temporary thing? Something that expires on a given time and day? If that’s the case then I think I don’t want love anymore. How about those who continue to love? Those who consistently wait and wait for something that might not be real after all. People who work for love overtime, for all their life? I salute to these people. Some may say they would do anything for love. Some may already gave up on the idea. I’m tired. My body is tired. My mind is tired. My heart is the most tired. I grew tired of chasing this idea of “love” because I really didn’t know what the hell it is. Is it the feeling of soft kisses and tight embraces? The butterfly in the stomach and electrifying feeling of someone’s caress? The sweet way of saying “I love you” in my ear? The sweet small thoughts of kindness in a pack or box? What is it? I have been with different types of men. I have been with the sweet ones, the kind, the thoughtful, the touchy, the sensitive, the tight hand holder, the shoulder hanging, the bad boy, the arrogant, the good kisser, the great fucker, the hardcore, and practically almost all types (Wait, just to be clear, I have not been sexually involved with all of the above). I got the chance to meet these people and got the chance to be part of their life although short and time fleeting. Every single time I spent with these men was a search. A search for something. I don’t know. But I was looking for something and I had no idea how to find it. Am I crazy? Or I’m just not complete yet. Am I selfish? Or am I just waiting to be filled up with sense. I need a thing to hold on to. Something that would make me hold on. Something that would push me to keep searching and never grow tired and weary. Should I trust my heart even if I know it has gone tired of all the happenings of my life. Maybe I should believe Leona when she said all she wanted is to be happy. How many times? How many more lies? How much more hurt? I’m tired. My body is tired. My mind is tired. My heart is the most tired. I have so many questions in my head, it’s like having the feeling of explosion right inside my cranium. Is there a scientific or mathematical equation for love? Something that strengthens the very existence of such an idea. Nobody is an island. How true? Could it be possible that everyone has someone there for them? A special someone just for them? What about those who grow old alone? How can destiny or fate argue with choice? Is love around the corner? Something that has been there ever since but we fail to notice it because we were too busy or pre-occupied most of the time. Could love be tired of waiting for us to notice it? Could love choose? Could love wait? Could love do everything just to get pass by everything? Could love hurt? What is love? Is it a hypothalamic reaction? A cause of something? A fiction that everyone believes because they enjoy the feeling of holding on to the idea of it? Is love a lie? Something that was created so that pain or emptiness would be substituted. Something like an aspirin or Advil. Something that mends a wound and numbs the heart from what it is currently feeling. Is love a state of mind? A general creation of the human imagination just so the tears flowing from their eyes when they sleep will vanish? Something like Santa Claus for adults. People see love in so many different things and ways. Why? Can’t love be just this? Or that? What the hell is it really? I have so many questions that this paragraph is basically filled with a fraction of my questions. I long to find the answer to this simple and stupid question, it’s quite clear that a lot of tiny questions will come about when I ask this question but I really want to know the answer. I have waited for a minute, an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year but nothing has clarified the very thought of love. If they say that there really is no definite meaning for love then why the in the world are they believing in it? Why do they keep holding on? Isn’t this all just a big act of stupidity? Well, I don’t know. Like I’ve said, I’ve never been in-love. I’ve never been blinded by the idea of it, so who am I to judge the “power” it brings. Stupid. Maybe when I get there, I’ll know.
