Signed, Sealed and Delivered
That night when I fell asleep in your arms, in front of the ocean and under the stars - my idea of home, you may have not known but that was the point in our lives when I had fully submitted my whole being to that which terrifies and excites me - our life together. In a very long while, I had not let myself be safe and comfortable anywhere beyond the confines of my little world. But there I was, passing out and letting go and there you were, patiently just being there. Whoever said this should be easy doesn't know jack shit because it has been said and proven that it's the level of difficulty that determines the level of commitment and strength of the new being sprung from the union of our individual ones. I am optimistic but I would always expect the worst because I have been so terribly crushed over and over by being blindsided by life and its workings.
I am torn between learning from the past and taking a leap of faith which is truthfully no longer such because the proof and evidence of your goodness should be enough for me to know with undeniable certainty that you are nothing like the bastards who have come before you. My selfish ways hinder me from letting you feel how strongly I feel. Enough should be enough but we both know it never would be because we have not even seen the best and worst of what could be.
I suppose I could go on and on with this non-sensical rambling which is meant to be an apology because sorry has been so overly used and somewhere lost its essence. I do apologize for who I am and for subjecting you to the same. I am unfixable but I sincerely believe that where I fall short, you would be able to complement and fill in. With no further dramatic semantics, I just want to say, "I'm in."
What the Palm Said
I am still inevitably bothered by what the palmists have said about my destiny (Palmists because I always get a second opinion) - that I would definitely be successful in every endeavor professionally but a lot of men would come and go and nothing would last... Until I decide I'm ready to get married which sucks because I'm nowhere near that point. Yes, I'm this independent little lady with commitment issues. But that doesn't mean there are things that I don't want too - like the idea of being settled with one man and having kids and a happy ever after.
So I asked what I'm supposed to do now. I am living with this indecision which to prioritize, my career or my social life AKA my love life. I like being single but I like having that one person to rely on when my superpowers fail me. I was told I need to make that decision first, before what follows can be read for sure. I love that I am not being told what to do by my palm; But, being advised of the consequence of my decisions instead.
I love my job. I feel blessed everyday for having it. I worked hard for it. I sacrificed a lot for it... Even the one person I considered spending the rest of my life with. There are times, though, when I have to wonder if I love it enough to give up the things that I truly want - like a partner, traveling, parties and sleeping at night & waking up in the morning. Wow that just made me realize how much I have to give up. Is it worth it? I can never tell for sure.
I love the feeling of being loved and the security that comes with it. Everyday I tell myself I can take care of ME and I don't need anyone else to do it - which is true... Except I like having someone to take care of too. It just sucks that I have this personal rule not to fall for someone from work and that makes maintaining a love life impossible because with my work schedule, I am not left with enough chances to be out there.
That, I believe, is where the indecision stems from. If I really wanted to be with someone, I can just be with someone from work. How convenient, yes? But what happens if he or I moves on to another company? Would the relationship be left behind too? The unknown would forever terrify me (And it terrifies me more than ever because of experience).
For someone who likes taking spontaneous trips and exploring new places, I'm sure not many people know that I am afraid of the unknown... That I like staying safe with certainty and promises and guarantees. Why can't my adventurous nature just kick my fear's ass?
Until I do make up my mind, my palm would just give off haze and white noise. So I hope a sign helps me decide on what I would value most. Soon.
It takes time
To heal when you hurt so fucking much.
I suppose I don't realize how badly my heart was broken until these moments of happiness and hope are terribly ruined with various information that I don't need but can't help but ask for. Tonight, I found out he took his new baby love to 48 Maywood Ave. Nobody knows if he introduced her to the family or what but upon this revelation, I felt my chest ache with that ache that no drug can cure and no run to the ER can relieve. This would not be my death. I've overcome the hardest part - that much I know. I was just so thankful I was with a guy who has potential to be in my long-term future that I was able to hold myself together and not breakdown as I did when I was first told about the new girl. I can't help it. The tears just keep gushing out like the alcohol I've been chugging in the moment I got out of the car. I hope this new guy realizes that my extended tight hug was in gratitude for this night that I so would treasure. Step by step, I am healing.
Earlier today, I thought it was so strong of me to throw out the letters and the contents of our memory box. I can't bring myself to call it the X-Box really... because while I have grown accustomed to calling him my Ex, I cannot desecrate the special non-sense that are our mementos. I wonder what he has done to the stuff I returned in my anger that day I found the Valentine's Day tickets. I wonder how Princess Mumbles is, the very first and most special of everything he gave me; first, because he gave me the well-dressed bear on our first month together when my plans of getting him something were overshadowed and forgotten by the plan of recovering the money that was stolen from me that day. Second, because it came as an absolute surprise along with a blue rose and he kept it all hidden in the car and he waited for the end of our shift to drag me to the parking lot to give. (Now I realize it was such a romantic and thoughtful gesture.) Third, because Princess Mumbles was my comfort on those whole three months of break-up limbo. (Shall he come back to me or shall he end up with the hoebag I had the inkling was slowly stealing him from me?) Last, because... I know this is the last thing that would remind him of how beautiful our love was.
Judging by what he did to the soccer ball pillow his ex before me gave him, I'm guessing Princess Mumbles is nowhere near his room nor his house anymore.
So last night, I transferred condos and I discovered the most tragic thing. For unknown reasons, water got into my room and damaged everything on the floor. It was mighty a sign from God, I think. It was what prompted me to open the box. His 6th grade graduation photo was saved by some arcane force because the Lord knows that would mean to him more than to me when I send it back. But the letters, especially the two-page typewritten one that he came up with to convince me not to leave him on our first year, were soaked to the last shred. I tried to read them - because I didn't think I ever could again with how badly they were damaged. All his feelings and proof of his love where no longer of use for anything but the recycle bin, where they were meant to be in anyway months ago. I am ever the sentimental hoarder who keeps everything not because of what they mean to me but for their artistic value.
I am left with mixed emotions about moving on entirely and doing well. Thank God Bella confirmed that I feel this way not because I want him back but because I miss being the person treated so exceptionally. I can take comfort in the thought that I am a good person for letting him just be happy and not degrading myself to those former flames to stalk and ruin their beloved's pursuit of happyness. Good people are rewarded bountifully. And if I only took the time to look, I would see that I am that exceptional person to several new prospects. All I have to do is choose. But no, he is not one of the choices.
It's over. I am over it. It's just that broken hearts don't heal as fast as we expect them to. We just have to patiently let it.
(
Edit: Two minutes upon writing this, my tears stopped and I am smiling for the good stuff again. ^_^)
I am the Flavor of the Month
Hello Canada! I
♥ Canadians. Thank you.
I sort-of have this sort-of love affair with a co-worker. It's the sort-of kind of thing because although we mostly know what goes on in each other's daily lives, we have had a total of three face-to-face interactions (and by interactions, that include our first acquaintance when we talked all about work, our "Devil date" that had us talking for two hours tops because I still had to go to work, and the "Hey!" we exchanged when we crossed each other at the turnstile on my lunch break). I have convinced myself that our sort-of thing has not blossomed because our schedules did not allow us to spend more time together, or so I thought. (Wrong!) It was just nice to think that I lost B because God knew I deserve someone better... I deserve an "Ace". (Even more wrong!) But it was comforting. There was just one hurdle for my little lame fantasy - on top of my list of NOT to date: co-workers. For obvvvious reasons. This has been my self-imposed restriction way before Barney educated us on his
Platinum rule.
These days I keep thinking about those times when I succumbed to office romance. At this point, I will not write about why and when and how. Let's focus on what these made me realize for the present. There were only two instances when I tried to mix work and pleasure - the first crashed and burned sooner than I even realized that we were already dating and that I had already dumped him and the second, well, crashed and burned the moment we set off for different careers. The only difference between those times and this time is... I had enough to work with then in convincing myself to give in than what this guy I have come to call Koko Krunch offers. (We were consistently sexting and one day, Poooft! he became Koko Krunch. Gone from the face of the earth.)
While I was taking the 21-day gameplay/strategy into consideration, I realized I just had to accept that he is just not that into me (Thank you, Greg!). I shall not over-analyze nor make excuses for him. I'll take the situation for what it is. And I will give thanks to the universe for making me see what a mess I am getting myself into. Again. I plan to make it big at work. Some dude bragging about our sexts would only jeopardize that. At my age, I don't have the luxury to take a wrong step in the career ladder anymore.
Next issue: Second on my list of NOT to date: dudes in clubs/bars
The Dream within the Dream
Inception moment last night. Slept at 4 and somewhere into my subconscious, I found myself on the passenger seat of your Vios and we were going south on Mac Blvd. You were telling me about how exhausting your work was and when I told you never to torture yourself with a job that no longer fulfills you, I realized this could not have been reality. So I got upset and asked you what the hell you were doing in my dream. You have no fucking place in my mind. You stared at me like I was a mad man and tried to reasoned that it was all real and not a dream. I bit on my arms and when I felt no pain, I knew I just had to wake up. I became hysterical and cried and screamed with all my might. Finally I jolted awake.
I was in a strange bed in a strange room but all my stuff were there - my closet, my side table, my full-length mirror, even that thingy on my wall where I hang my bangles. I stepped out of the room and saw my parents' house. I went in to use the phone and dialed your home number. When a woman's unfamiliar voice picked up, I realized I was still fucking dreaming. Sick! I tried to enjoy it a bit more, went back to my room and saw a French maid's outfit in a hanger. Some kinky paraphernalia is what it was, complete with a whip, a gag and blindfolds. Tsk.
I don't quite remember how but I eventually woke up for real beside my sister at 7. Flip. To think that I only had 2 and a half bottles of Tanduay Ice.
A means to an end
My rebirth took place a good few weeks ago. It was the moment when I officially stopped smelling of tears and I knew with undisputed certainty that I got back my unfathomable passion for life.
Get in. Get off. Get out.
The pixie dust stopped swirling from the acts of desperation... and settled all over me, making me shine and glitter like never before. I waited for that moment for years and finally experiencing it reinforced my belief that I can have anything and anyone I want if I let me. At first I thought it was vendetta that pushed me to do him. But the moment it was done, I knew I did it for me because that was who I am before the destruction that your love and lies have caused me.
No regrets. No mistakes. Just life.
I wonder what would happen if you found out. Haha.
I see your true colors shining through
And I bet if lies had colors, they would exactly be of the same hues.
Amazing how love clouds our eyes from seeing the truth. But that doesn't mean I love love any less. I guess that's where the beauty of it all is. Everything I've been through has made me too awesome to be jaded anymore.
I woke up, and my imagination craved for a book. So I opened one of my dusty boxes and chose The Reader. From it fell a Christmas note from a former colleague wishing me well with my then-new squeeze. Ah... our first December 25th together. The day you told me you got your ex pregnant that's why you can't keep it up despite all the party favors.
Remember? I truly hope you are performing better now. For your sake. I know I am. Just ask him and him. Tee-hee.
In 5 years, I'd officially be a cougar. Unless in God's good graces, some impressive dude meets my lofty expectations. I vow never to settle again. If you found her and you two are Über perfect together, I'm sure that guy on the same level as I am would find me too and we would color each other's life with the stuff that Crayola came up with.
I wonder when I'd get around to getting that rainbow tattoo on my right foot. Not that I'm not colorful enough as I am. I just want to. Because there's no one who can stop me.
