You don't get to say that I am an awful person because I am selfish.
You asked me upfront about us. I wasn't prepared for this confrontation because when you did we are on our way to some place (which I forget since you stormed out after I nonchalantly answered your question). I told you you're someone that I am accustomed to to be around with. You compliment me in a lot of ways but I guess it's not enough for me to say the words you always say to me. "I love you".
I just stared at you half daze and started walking. You grab me by the arm and asked if I feel the same way. Honestly at that moment I wasn't feeling it. You started to loose it and ran off. I didn't followed you. I just stood there thinking my to do list for the day and was a bit aggravated because you promise to go with me (yes, I was suppose to buy eggs for our meal later). The question still lingers, do I love you?
You didn't went home that day so I ate those eggs by myself. Trying to find an answer, I look back on our relationship. Yes I like to be with you. When I'm alone I look for you. I failed an exam you were there. I was bored to death you cut your class and accompanied me to the movies. I guess I could say that is love.
But then when I am happy and full of life you are the last person on my mind. What does that say? I can't leave without you but I can't stand you too near me especially when I'm preoccupied with the good things. I guess you are my safety net. You are neither good nor bad, you are a neutral being in my life. Most of the time I use you to get over predicaments and you lose your magic in times of joy.
I love the way you make me feel. But how does I make you feel? You said you love me despite all these things I've done. Do you feel that I'll change after I hear your pain? You call me selfish as I am depriving you with the love you feel you deserve. But you fell for me because of who I am not for who you want me to be. I'm trying to be logical here.
I'm selfish. That is true. But does it really make me a bad person to be as such? I didn't hurt you because it was your decision to follow through with this kind of relationship. And perhaps I have some secret that made me this way. Maybe it was the fear of being left alone that made me lack the capacity to fully share my self to you. Ever thought of that? The way I see it, being selfish makes me human.
I am not different from the thousand individuals whom have placed themselves out there to find love. I guess I got tired and started to believe that being selfish will allow me to feel a little bit of love without getting hurt in case it's another soon to be failed relationship. I am not invested hence I won't lose.
It's selfish of me to make you go through all this test for me to trust you. I guess you failed.
I am not a bad person for being selfish. I am not a bad person for not saying I love you back. I didn't feel like I need to say those words when in fact they weren't real to begin with. You don't deserve them, because you failed from rescuing my from myself.
Wednesday
There used to be monsters hiding under my bed
I can't sleep. Before it was because I was scared I'll get suck under my bed believing there's a world underneath me. I had to call my mommy so she could cuddle with me as I fell asleep in her arms. She sometimes hum songs Before I thought it was a beautiful song that puts me to sleep - thinking my mom was a singer before she had to give it up just so as to have her family. Later I figured were some mixed up melody she just made up.
There came nights wherein mommy wasn't there. I have a weird relationship with my dad and I figured early on that he won't cuddle with me like mommy does. So I have to be brave enough to lie there on my own trying my best not to be swallowed by the monster lurking beneath me. I was a bit disappointed back then about my dad not able to show his affections like mommy does. Eventually I learn there are other ways a person can show his affection. In my later years I discovered that he'll do anything for us, for me and for that I am greatful. I guess he's just shy and thinks hugging isn't a masculine thing.
It took time before I realize such nonsense doesn't exists. My fear at night doesn't come from the monsters beneath my bed. They come from within. Every night till this day I have to face my inner demons which shows there truest form during times of stillness. A time where I find solitude. These "monsters" are a reflection of me. The night presents time and allows me to internalize. Most of the time I hate it. I hate the fact that I have to face my demons when my body demands some rest. But my conscience tells me otherwise. I sort them out night by night till point of exhaustion. Some nights I immediately fell asleep. But there will be nights like this wherein my demons keep me awake. I hate it most when I don't know what I am thinking - perhaps there is a lot going in, trail of thoughts flying around in my head without a single one registering. Sometimes it bugs me by not showing it's identity - hence no resolution, it just sits there.
I would prefer being scared by the monsters that use to reside under my bed. I guess they don't harm you. They may scare you but you eventually outgrew the fear and among them. But the monsters within us, you can't simply shun them. They will be there. Waiting.
There came nights wherein mommy wasn't there. I have a weird relationship with my dad and I figured early on that he won't cuddle with me like mommy does. So I have to be brave enough to lie there on my own trying my best not to be swallowed by the monster lurking beneath me. I was a bit disappointed back then about my dad not able to show his affections like mommy does. Eventually I learn there are other ways a person can show his affection. In my later years I discovered that he'll do anything for us, for me and for that I am greatful. I guess he's just shy and thinks hugging isn't a masculine thing.
It took time before I realize such nonsense doesn't exists. My fear at night doesn't come from the monsters beneath my bed. They come from within. Every night till this day I have to face my inner demons which shows there truest form during times of stillness. A time where I find solitude. These "monsters" are a reflection of me. The night presents time and allows me to internalize. Most of the time I hate it. I hate the fact that I have to face my demons when my body demands some rest. But my conscience tells me otherwise. I sort them out night by night till point of exhaustion. Some nights I immediately fell asleep. But there will be nights like this wherein my demons keep me awake. I hate it most when I don't know what I am thinking - perhaps there is a lot going in, trail of thoughts flying around in my head without a single one registering. Sometimes it bugs me by not showing it's identity - hence no resolution, it just sits there.
I would prefer being scared by the monsters that use to reside under my bed. I guess they don't harm you. They may scare you but you eventually outgrew the fear and among them. But the monsters within us, you can't simply shun them. They will be there. Waiting.
Tuesday
I just want to be left alone
I want to step out and take a breather from life. It's not that I'm complaining. I just need to take a pause and re-group. I want to collect my thoughts before heading out again to the reality of it all.
Most people doesn't understand this. The idea of being alone. It's not that you're mad with someone or to a situation. You just need to take a step back and relax for a minute or a day or I dunno for a period of time till you give yourself the assurance that you need. I guess that's why most of us tend to be agitated out of the blue. We need to take that release. Listening to music or taking a minute or two to just be away from it all.
Now, I'm collecting my thoughts and would like to be alone (alone with my thoughts). Perhaps it's a coping mechanism, I have no idea. Ever since I started to think that life is a bitch and it will depend on how you see the good things in it this little ritual is my saving glory. I need time - like most of us - just for a minute to give yourself a moment of silence around all this chaos.
I want to be alone. Sometimes too much time alone but I need it. I need to breathe. Just for a moment before I go back to reality.
Most people doesn't understand this. The idea of being alone. It's not that you're mad with someone or to a situation. You just need to take a step back and relax for a minute or a day or I dunno for a period of time till you give yourself the assurance that you need. I guess that's why most of us tend to be agitated out of the blue. We need to take that release. Listening to music or taking a minute or two to just be away from it all.
Now, I'm collecting my thoughts and would like to be alone (alone with my thoughts). Perhaps it's a coping mechanism, I have no idea. Ever since I started to think that life is a bitch and it will depend on how you see the good things in it this little ritual is my saving glory. I need time - like most of us - just for a minute to give yourself a moment of silence around all this chaos.
I want to be alone. Sometimes too much time alone but I need it. I need to breathe. Just for a moment before I go back to reality.
Sunday
The thought of your death sometimes makes me smile
I know this is harsh - but if you think it, then it must be from some important place within you saying that something is wrong. Wrong in a sense that there is a problem causing you to think such idea not in a sense that I am a bad person who thinks bad things to his relatives.
So yes, like many nights tonight I think of my uncle and my grand mother's death. And only tonight on the eve of Chinese New Year I think of such thoughts and blog them completely. I may regret this but fuck it - something triggered me into such thoughts and the weird part is I'm not sympathetic about it.
You see this deal my mom had to make with her mom and younger brother had place my siblings and I to this position. We were left no choice but to stay with them for the time being. Grateful as we are we could only bear so little from the smart-ass remarks they do during dinners about how life is so complicated because of things-that-they-hate-or-they-don't-agree-with. They think highly of themselves and we have to hear every word and act as if they are right. Their way or the highway because we owe this sons-of-bitches.
Yes this is a grudge. I just hate people who act like a saint so the could get a ticket to heaven. That's so my grand mother. She tends to have her say to everything even to our personal life. One time a gay classmate of mine called me and she was able to get the call. The next minute she's accusing me of being gay because it's a sickness and I have a gay friend. I obviously wanted to punch her face right then and there. At her defense, she was only looking after me as her role as my grand mother (yes, it's her role to IMPOSE instead of give advice. It's obviously an imposition rather than an advice, I should know I'm the one who heard her). She has her way of making you feel that she is the superior being because she provided you food and shelter and she never misses a chance to remind you the blessing you have received. I hate those kinds of people - people who actually reminds you constantly that you owe them like FOREVER.
And when she can't control us no more. The bitch calls her youngest son, my uncle. The good for nothing ass who has an ego bigger than Russia. What I hate about this egotistically maniac is the fact that he talks a lot without anything to back it up. He didn't finish college, a bum for more than a decade and is only relevant when our roof needs fixing so we could save a couple of bucks. Still, he talks to us like he is this big shot person when in fact he is waiting for his mother to die so he could get his inheritance.
They talk to my sister and I in a condescending tone (8-out-of-10) as if we are about to screw our lives. In reality they are the ones who screwed their lives back when they are in our age. My grand mother got pregnant on her early life so she's fearing that my sister who is a law student would have the same fate. My grandma's a slut back then (who would have though, right?) and thinks we'll be doing the same thing. She got pregnant and had her child who's apparently been kept a secret in the family for a period of time. Tsk, tsk. In addition my uncle was a drug addict during our age - low grades, stopped schooling even ran away from home. In comparison to what we are doing, we are way beyond the point from were they where before.
I continue to live with them (till someone dies) and I assure you that I always had the last laugh. I am a conformist but I choose my battles. This isn't the right time for me but when it comes, I will strike hard and this bitches will never now what hit them. I can see myself smiling away while this two shit heads asks themselves what went wrong.
Until then bitches, kun hei far choi.
So yes, like many nights tonight I think of my uncle and my grand mother's death. And only tonight on the eve of Chinese New Year I think of such thoughts and blog them completely. I may regret this but fuck it - something triggered me into such thoughts and the weird part is I'm not sympathetic about it.
You see this deal my mom had to make with her mom and younger brother had place my siblings and I to this position. We were left no choice but to stay with them for the time being. Grateful as we are we could only bear so little from the smart-ass remarks they do during dinners about how life is so complicated because of things-that-they-hate-or-they-don't-agree-with. They think highly of themselves and we have to hear every word and act as if they are right. Their way or the highway because we owe this sons-of-bitches.
Yes this is a grudge. I just hate people who act like a saint so the could get a ticket to heaven. That's so my grand mother. She tends to have her say to everything even to our personal life. One time a gay classmate of mine called me and she was able to get the call. The next minute she's accusing me of being gay because it's a sickness and I have a gay friend. I obviously wanted to punch her face right then and there. At her defense, she was only looking after me as her role as my grand mother (yes, it's her role to IMPOSE instead of give advice. It's obviously an imposition rather than an advice, I should know I'm the one who heard her). She has her way of making you feel that she is the superior being because she provided you food and shelter and she never misses a chance to remind you the blessing you have received. I hate those kinds of people - people who actually reminds you constantly that you owe them like FOREVER.
And when she can't control us no more. The bitch calls her youngest son, my uncle. The good for nothing ass who has an ego bigger than Russia. What I hate about this egotistically maniac is the fact that he talks a lot without anything to back it up. He didn't finish college, a bum for more than a decade and is only relevant when our roof needs fixing so we could save a couple of bucks. Still, he talks to us like he is this big shot person when in fact he is waiting for his mother to die so he could get his inheritance.
They talk to my sister and I in a condescending tone (8-out-of-10) as if we are about to screw our lives. In reality they are the ones who screwed their lives back when they are in our age. My grand mother got pregnant on her early life so she's fearing that my sister who is a law student would have the same fate. My grandma's a slut back then (who would have though, right?) and thinks we'll be doing the same thing. She got pregnant and had her child who's apparently been kept a secret in the family for a period of time. Tsk, tsk. In addition my uncle was a drug addict during our age - low grades, stopped schooling even ran away from home. In comparison to what we are doing, we are way beyond the point from were they where before.
I continue to live with them (till someone dies) and I assure you that I always had the last laugh. I am a conformist but I choose my battles. This isn't the right time for me but when it comes, I will strike hard and this bitches will never now what hit them. I can see myself smiling away while this two shit heads asks themselves what went wrong.
Until then bitches, kun hei far choi.
Thursday
Golden bells aren't my thing
This is the moment wherein every girl I know would say "yes". Your favorite song being played in the background while you are on top of a thirty feet building with a beautiful view of the city that seemingly lights up just for the two of you.
You stand in front of me in one knee asking me the question of spending our lives forever. I stand in front of you teary eyed and speechless. And in that moment I knew that this isn't right, that somehow the world is telling me to jump of the building or else you'll die when you finally say no to this wonderful guy.
In these last few seconds I ask myself, trying to gauge the pros and cons. You might ask me, how on earth did this proposal happen if you guys aren't that into each other. Truth be told, he became my partner because he was there and he says all the right things. Besides, when he asked to me to be his partner a year ago I was okay with it. My thinking is that I have acquired someone that likes me enough to stay for the night, cuddle and share my dinner every now and then. He is someone that is close to me - close enough to know my problems in life and deals with it (even helps me out of it). He makes me happy. So I said yes to be his lover.
A year has gone by then this. I dunno. Did I settled with him? He was the only one who was available back then. Then again he seems to be a good option. An option. Is that how I see him? Logically speaking everyone chose their partners like a can good in a supermarket. You have to choose the best one base on your preference and constraints (for goods it's money, for relationships it's your appearance and lifestyle). I didn't settle. I choose him because he, after all, fits to my "constraints". A gangly guy who is taller than me, owns a car and has a decent job. Yup. Perfect fit.
You asked me again the question of forever. It hit me. I do love you. As an option (that sounds awful) you are perfect. But I don't love you enough to be committed forever. It's like when you have a boyfriend during your teenage years, it's not forever-forever more of forever-until-the-next-guy-comes-then-we-will-see sort of a thing.
This decision I have to make. My answer doesn't mean that I don't love you nor does it mean that I am not ready (because believe me this is not something that I'm looking forward with you - I guess that's it). You are boyfriend material not a forever kind of a deal.
So tonight I'll say no and broke your heart. I can see it now, our perfect (the way I see it) setup / relationship is totally ruined. When our friends ask I'll be the bitch who is cold hearted and evil who turned down a wonderful opportunity. Then again if you truly knew me for that one year of living together you'll find out that I am not comfortable with the forever crap (perhaps not with you nor with anyone for that matter). Perhaps I am satisfied with what we have (or used to after this) and because of this freaking proposal you have ruined it not just for yourself but for me as well.
I gave a huge sigh. I said no.
You stand in front of me in one knee asking me the question of spending our lives forever. I stand in front of you teary eyed and speechless. And in that moment I knew that this isn't right, that somehow the world is telling me to jump of the building or else you'll die when you finally say no to this wonderful guy.
In these last few seconds I ask myself, trying to gauge the pros and cons. You might ask me, how on earth did this proposal happen if you guys aren't that into each other. Truth be told, he became my partner because he was there and he says all the right things. Besides, when he asked to me to be his partner a year ago I was okay with it. My thinking is that I have acquired someone that likes me enough to stay for the night, cuddle and share my dinner every now and then. He is someone that is close to me - close enough to know my problems in life and deals with it (even helps me out of it). He makes me happy. So I said yes to be his lover.
A year has gone by then this. I dunno. Did I settled with him? He was the only one who was available back then. Then again he seems to be a good option. An option. Is that how I see him? Logically speaking everyone chose their partners like a can good in a supermarket. You have to choose the best one base on your preference and constraints (for goods it's money, for relationships it's your appearance and lifestyle). I didn't settle. I choose him because he, after all, fits to my "constraints". A gangly guy who is taller than me, owns a car and has a decent job. Yup. Perfect fit.
You asked me again the question of forever. It hit me. I do love you. As an option (that sounds awful) you are perfect. But I don't love you enough to be committed forever. It's like when you have a boyfriend during your teenage years, it's not forever-forever more of forever-until-the-next-guy-comes-then-we-will-see sort of a thing.
This decision I have to make. My answer doesn't mean that I don't love you nor does it mean that I am not ready (because believe me this is not something that I'm looking forward with you - I guess that's it). You are boyfriend material not a forever kind of a deal.
So tonight I'll say no and broke your heart. I can see it now, our perfect (the way I see it) setup / relationship is totally ruined. When our friends ask I'll be the bitch who is cold hearted and evil who turned down a wonderful opportunity. Then again if you truly knew me for that one year of living together you'll find out that I am not comfortable with the forever crap (perhaps not with you nor with anyone for that matter). Perhaps I am satisfied with what we have (or used to after this) and because of this freaking proposal you have ruined it not just for yourself but for me as well.
I gave a huge sigh. I said no.
Saturday
Stepping out my bubble hoping to find worth finding
I have nothing in my head right now. So I choose to visit our province - a four hour drive from the city. Since I can't drive and no one's gonna take me - I'll take the bus.
I'll be leaving in a couple of hours, so I still have time to ponder - things that I'll be expecting in this "journey". Why do I consider it a journey? I'm only visiting. Actually I have no intentions with the people there (my relatives). I just want to step out from the city and see how things on the other side. A place whose people's goals in life are to live in a place where I came from. I want to see their world and how they are - are we the same? I can sense my superiority complex kicking in (I'm sorry I can't stop it but I'll try my best to hide it).
I want to glorify myself with the thought that I am blessed and for that I should be grateful. I will not ridicule them but then again I judge them from where they come from and their way of living. That regardless of my pureness I still judge them like first world countries judge me and my colleagues. But that power struggle is beside the point. I want to see them - their way of living so I can reassure myself that I am in a good place. These selfish actions is what keeps me going, heck it keeps everyone moving forward.
I remember my conversation with a close friend about having children. Her idea of having kids revolves around narcissism. Try as we might to reject the idea it holds true. Everyone wants to leave an imprint of their being in this world and through their kids - they are somewhat immortalize (physical being, traits, beliefs, etc). One of the many examples of humanity's selfish actions.
But I'm not going to dwell on that fact. I'm more concern for my self. I plan to make a visit to our province that is a four hour drive from the city. I'm taking the bus because no one's taking me. I look forward seeing their way of living and would like to know / problematize their growing concern of going to the city - a place where I came from. Common answer would be opportunity. Because in the city - lives become better, everything is better. I don't want to be the bearer of such bad news with regards to their dream so I won't tell the reality here in the city.
Perhaps that's a glimpse of their thoughts. But what about me? What are my reasons for going back? I would like to find solitude. I have been to a couple of provinces and they offer the same thing - they give you time. Time to think. Time to see the world without any "distractions". It allows an individual to find himself as he stares at awe in the beautiful wonders the world offers him. Things that we city people often neglect.
The vast lands offers time. They create dreamers night and day surrounding them with the world's beauty. Dreamers that are not constrained by the reality of the world. Instead, the world gives them a glimpse of what is possible. I just need to understand how these two decide which dream to fulfill in a world that offers a lot but only grants a few.
I plan to escape the life here, just for a moment. I hope to find something worth taking home. It's like an adventure, a journey. Finding something, finding yourself.
I'll be leaving in a couple of hours, so I still have time to ponder - things that I'll be expecting in this "journey". Why do I consider it a journey? I'm only visiting. Actually I have no intentions with the people there (my relatives). I just want to step out from the city and see how things on the other side. A place whose people's goals in life are to live in a place where I came from. I want to see their world and how they are - are we the same? I can sense my superiority complex kicking in (I'm sorry I can't stop it but I'll try my best to hide it).
I want to glorify myself with the thought that I am blessed and for that I should be grateful. I will not ridicule them but then again I judge them from where they come from and their way of living. That regardless of my pureness I still judge them like first world countries judge me and my colleagues. But that power struggle is beside the point. I want to see them - their way of living so I can reassure myself that I am in a good place. These selfish actions is what keeps me going, heck it keeps everyone moving forward.
I remember my conversation with a close friend about having children. Her idea of having kids revolves around narcissism. Try as we might to reject the idea it holds true. Everyone wants to leave an imprint of their being in this world and through their kids - they are somewhat immortalize (physical being, traits, beliefs, etc). One of the many examples of humanity's selfish actions.
But I'm not going to dwell on that fact. I'm more concern for my self. I plan to make a visit to our province that is a four hour drive from the city. I'm taking the bus because no one's taking me. I look forward seeing their way of living and would like to know / problematize their growing concern of going to the city - a place where I came from. Common answer would be opportunity. Because in the city - lives become better, everything is better. I don't want to be the bearer of such bad news with regards to their dream so I won't tell the reality here in the city.
Perhaps that's a glimpse of their thoughts. But what about me? What are my reasons for going back? I would like to find solitude. I have been to a couple of provinces and they offer the same thing - they give you time. Time to think. Time to see the world without any "distractions". It allows an individual to find himself as he stares at awe in the beautiful wonders the world offers him. Things that we city people often neglect.
The vast lands offers time. They create dreamers night and day surrounding them with the world's beauty. Dreamers that are not constrained by the reality of the world. Instead, the world gives them a glimpse of what is possible. I just need to understand how these two decide which dream to fulfill in a world that offers a lot but only grants a few.
I plan to escape the life here, just for a moment. I hope to find something worth taking home. It's like an adventure, a journey. Finding something, finding yourself.
Wednesday
When reality is about to come down on you with a thousand bricks
I never planned to be in this position.
I slowly turned the knob and felt the water through my body. Hot nor cold - I can't feel it. I just know that water is rushing through and it's hitting my body, cleansing me, slowly.
"How did I get here?" I keep asking myself that question from the moment I met you, the moment I allowed myself to feel something. Infidelity. A word that I am much familiar with. I was raised by my mother alone because my father had an affair. He said he needed to work out of town for a couple of weeks. A year after I heard the news that I have a step sibling. A human being that I am connected to - a relative - my blood. I am not foreign with the word infidelity. But being the other woman in this situation. How the hell did it came to this?
I thought I had it under control. You approach me one day in my cubicle asking to have coffee. I knew you had a wife and four kids. Though at that time I'm feeling lousy thinking I can't get a man without doing something outside my comfort zone. Then you came along with your offer. So I oblige. I was thinking that I needed practice anyway - I needed to feel empowered. And after all these is over, I'll leave you because it's the right thing to do.
That sense of control that I thought I had ended up in your hands. Our coffee meetings became random lunches and dinners. Then it became a regular routine. I find the secrecy of it all too enticing to give it up just yet. I listened to you making excuses to your wife.
Am I? Am I a mistress? I guess so after we made love. Time flew by so fast. I didn't imagine that we've been "hanging out" for almost half a year now. Moreover I see most your stuff in my apartment. We are sort of like living together now (looking at my closet I made a space for your items).
Now on the eve of your child's birthday you are here in my place - passed out. I can't bear to look at you and act as if everything is okay. It's not.
Who's to blame? Am I still in control? I don't know if I am to be angry at myself or to my father's mistress. Are we the same (the mistress)? I don't want to believe it. I know we are not. Because I love him.
What is love anyway? I'm not a bad person. Infidelity is done by two people. It's a mutual consent. He is as guilty as I am. Am I suppose to feel better about it?
You came from behind and hugged me close. Water is still running. I can't feel it but I can feel you breathing in my neck. I can't let go just yet. I won't.
I still have control. I know I do. I know it because what I'm doing this for myself. I'm getting what I want and perhaps he is getting what he want as well.
"You have to go, your child is expecting you. It's his birthday today" I said.
"I'll drop by the house later - let's be like this just for a little while."
I still have control. I still have power over the situation. I can let go. I must. But not today, not now.
I slowly turned the knob and felt the water through my body. Hot nor cold - I can't feel it. I just know that water is rushing through and it's hitting my body, cleansing me, slowly.
"How did I get here?" I keep asking myself that question from the moment I met you, the moment I allowed myself to feel something. Infidelity. A word that I am much familiar with. I was raised by my mother alone because my father had an affair. He said he needed to work out of town for a couple of weeks. A year after I heard the news that I have a step sibling. A human being that I am connected to - a relative - my blood. I am not foreign with the word infidelity. But being the other woman in this situation. How the hell did it came to this?
I thought I had it under control. You approach me one day in my cubicle asking to have coffee. I knew you had a wife and four kids. Though at that time I'm feeling lousy thinking I can't get a man without doing something outside my comfort zone. Then you came along with your offer. So I oblige. I was thinking that I needed practice anyway - I needed to feel empowered. And after all these is over, I'll leave you because it's the right thing to do.
That sense of control that I thought I had ended up in your hands. Our coffee meetings became random lunches and dinners. Then it became a regular routine. I find the secrecy of it all too enticing to give it up just yet. I listened to you making excuses to your wife.
Am I? Am I a mistress? I guess so after we made love. Time flew by so fast. I didn't imagine that we've been "hanging out" for almost half a year now. Moreover I see most your stuff in my apartment. We are sort of like living together now (looking at my closet I made a space for your items).
Now on the eve of your child's birthday you are here in my place - passed out. I can't bear to look at you and act as if everything is okay. It's not.
Who's to blame? Am I still in control? I don't know if I am to be angry at myself or to my father's mistress. Are we the same (the mistress)? I don't want to believe it. I know we are not. Because I love him.
What is love anyway? I'm not a bad person. Infidelity is done by two people. It's a mutual consent. He is as guilty as I am. Am I suppose to feel better about it?
You came from behind and hugged me close. Water is still running. I can't feel it but I can feel you breathing in my neck. I can't let go just yet. I won't.
I still have control. I know I do. I know it because what I'm doing this for myself. I'm getting what I want and perhaps he is getting what he want as well.
"You have to go, your child is expecting you. It's his birthday today" I said.
"I'll drop by the house later - let's be like this just for a little while."
I still have control. I still have power over the situation. I can let go. I must. But not today, not now.
Friday
The secret of a dreamer
I always had a crush on you. I didn't know when it actually began but I did fall for you.
I see you as this geeky guy with a childish appeal. You kill others with kindness and with your good mood people can't do you wrong. You have great talent as well. You create wonderful images and animation for school organizations. I should know I have worked with you before. Perhaps it was then that I saw you.
It's hard getting to know you. Trying to figure out what lies behind what seem to be a facade. I use to think that people tend to use smiles as a form of protection. I do. But with you, everything is genuine. Nothing seems fake. And with that I kinda knew that you are someone who is different.
Different. Perhaps you are the kind of love that we all choose to keep hidden. We never utter the name as it may sound real. You are similar to a dream. Dreams that are seen and felt only by the individual. Making it special than any experience in a lifetime. It holds dearly as no matter how you explain things to others, it just won't make sense. It's that feeling that never goes away and triggered by that one person.
Like dreams, we are given the option to continue or go back. I will forever keep you. And regardless of waking up to the sad reality it's reassuring to know that whenever I see you I can be a dreamer.
I see you as this geeky guy with a childish appeal. You kill others with kindness and with your good mood people can't do you wrong. You have great talent as well. You create wonderful images and animation for school organizations. I should know I have worked with you before. Perhaps it was then that I saw you.
It's hard getting to know you. Trying to figure out what lies behind what seem to be a facade. I use to think that people tend to use smiles as a form of protection. I do. But with you, everything is genuine. Nothing seems fake. And with that I kinda knew that you are someone who is different.
Like dreams, we are given the option to continue or go back. I will forever keep you. And regardless of waking up to the sad reality it's reassuring to know that whenever I see you I can be a dreamer.
Tuesday
Tales of a wallflower
I keep telling myself that I'm okay, trying to understand my predicament (single) either by design or by choice.
I use say that I have to study well because it's easier. High grades are a challenge but at least your efforts are rewarded. Then I graduated college with latin honors. All I have is a degree and a one night stand with someone that I considered lovely.
I say that I should get a decent job, a good paying one at least I could buy something - gratify myself every time I see romance across my work space, across the table while my good friend brings his boyfriend for dinner, at the backseat seeing my sister with her lover being nice and all as they give me a free ride home. The world conspires by design or by choice to give me a glimpse of something that I want (or use to - I don't know).
Sometimes I feel that I am use to the set-up. I get up in the morning, listening to the latest pop song of teenage dream that I dream of having but never will as I am pass the age. I get drinks with old friends asking them about love - brushing of the idea every time we hear failed relationships and unrequited love. A momentary empowerment wherein I feel that I am someone that doesn't need a man. Then I go home, open my laptop and listen to the music that tells me otherwise. I sit in my room and think about the choices that I made and how the universe conspires. Why? Because I need a reason. Why is it that I am still...myself. Why am I still trying? Still at that stage feeling that nothing has change, nothing has improved. I am still myself.
Then another lie of some sort will enter my head (a defense mechanism if you will). Perhaps the universe is saving you for someone special. Perhaps you have yet to do something good and meaningful with your life. Perhaps you have yet to save a child from hunger or end poverty in Africa. I don't know.
Drowning myself with lies and distractions. I have been doing the routine for quite sometime now. I've gotten good grades, now I'm getting overworked so I can numb the struggles. The never ending questions as to why am I still not deserving. Maybe the guy got hit by a truck. At least let me know so I could at least not expect nothing and seize my hopes that one day you'll walk into my life and whisk me away like one of the Disney princesses I've seen when I was five years old.
I'm okay. I keep telling myself that I understand my predicament. It's either by design or by choice.
I use say that I have to study well because it's easier. High grades are a challenge but at least your efforts are rewarded. Then I graduated college with latin honors. All I have is a degree and a one night stand with someone that I considered lovely.
I say that I should get a decent job, a good paying one at least I could buy something - gratify myself every time I see romance across my work space, across the table while my good friend brings his boyfriend for dinner, at the backseat seeing my sister with her lover being nice and all as they give me a free ride home. The world conspires by design or by choice to give me a glimpse of something that I want (or use to - I don't know).
Sometimes I feel that I am use to the set-up. I get up in the morning, listening to the latest pop song of teenage dream that I dream of having but never will as I am pass the age. I get drinks with old friends asking them about love - brushing of the idea every time we hear failed relationships and unrequited love. A momentary empowerment wherein I feel that I am someone that doesn't need a man. Then I go home, open my laptop and listen to the music that tells me otherwise. I sit in my room and think about the choices that I made and how the universe conspires. Why? Because I need a reason. Why is it that I am still...myself. Why am I still trying? Still at that stage feeling that nothing has change, nothing has improved. I am still myself.
Then another lie of some sort will enter my head (a defense mechanism if you will). Perhaps the universe is saving you for someone special. Perhaps you have yet to do something good and meaningful with your life. Perhaps you have yet to save a child from hunger or end poverty in Africa. I don't know.
Drowning myself with lies and distractions. I have been doing the routine for quite sometime now. I've gotten good grades, now I'm getting overworked so I can numb the struggles. The never ending questions as to why am I still not deserving. Maybe the guy got hit by a truck. At least let me know so I could at least not expect nothing and seize my hopes that one day you'll walk into my life and whisk me away like one of the Disney princesses I've seen when I was five years old.
I'm okay. I keep telling myself that I understand my predicament. It's either by design or by choice.
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