stoopid

If I actually say it. If I actually write it. It means its done. That shouldn’t be such a bad thing, because its done anyway. If I’ve started coming to the conclusion that some things are better left unknown, and unsaid. But they are known, and those words have been said.

So why is part of my heart still fighting for you?

today

i had you. i had us.
i held, tightly as i could
because you asked,
even when everyone have asked me not to.
even when i told myself not to.
i would’ve held, just as tightly as I could,
but you should give me more reason to
other than you so say.
i may be the girl who does not give up easily
but that doesn’t change that I hurt as easily
as well
- even if it’s the most trivial thing.
i am selfish.
you and me.
no one else.
i want no one else.

a beautiful sunset

No one asked to end it as it did. I wish I could say it’s a pretty ending but that means lying to myself which goes into saying I’m hurting myself even more.

He says my posted acknowledgment of the people who care about me hurts him.  He doesn’t get the fact that even these people know that their efforts will seem insignificant with just his i-love-you.

He says he is tired seeing me heartbroken. He doesn’t know I’m getting tired of it myself. Repeating a routine I wish I shouldn’t have started. I can not even teach myself to be un-broken, to un-love.

He isn’t my first heartbreak. But he is the first relationship I have allowed myself to be lost, to give it all in, to take in as much as I can, give more than I could.

He can be one of the few men who came and went. I watched them go and I moved on. But he’s made sure he is too hard to move away from. I took a few steps away myself but sometimes, I turn my head a little and see him stop and do the same thing as I was. He crosses a few distance and I knew I would always take him back even with the knowledge that it wouldn’t turn out right.

He was the one chance I risked having all my chips down. He was beautiful. He was worth fighting for. Even with myself.  And in that battle, I died. This was what he last asked of me. And even to that, I surrendered.

I never asked for it to be over. But then again, I never asked for it to begin. That’s the way it is with life; some of the most beautiful days come completely by chance, but even the most beautiful days have their sunsets.

reflections on a skyline | michael talman & richard jakes (directors)

…but I’ll tell you the worst me and try and give you the best of me because you don’t deserve any less…

And I wanna play hide and seek, give you my clothes, tell you I love your shoes, sit on the steps when you take a bath, and massage your neck, and kiss your face, and hold your hand and go for a walk.

Not mind when you eat my food, and meet you at Rudy’s and talk about the day. Talk about your day and laugh at your paranoia. Give you tapes you don’t listen to, watch great films… watch terrible films.

And tell you about the TV program I saw the night before, and not laugh at your jokes. Want you in the morning, but let you sleep for awhile. Tell you how much I love your eyes, your lips, your neck.

Sit on the steps smoking ’til your neighbors come home. Sit on the steps smoking ’til you come home. And worry when you’re late, and be amazed when you’re early.

I’d give you sunflowers and go to your party and dance. Be sorry when I’m wrong and happy when you forgive me. Look at your photo’s and wish I’d known you forever. Hear your voice in my ear, feel your skin on my skin. And get scared when you’re angry.

I tell you you’re gorgeous. And hug you when you’re anxious and hold you when you’re hurt and want you when I smell you and offend you when I touch you and whimper when I’m next to you, and whimper when I’m not. Smother you in the night and get cold when you take the blanket and hot when you don’t. Melt when you smile, dissolve when you laugh. But not understand how you think I’m rejecting you when I’m not rejecting you and wonder how you could think I’d ever reject you. And wonder who you are.

But I accept you anyway. And tell you about the tree angel and enchanted forest boy who flew across the ocean because he loved you. I’d buy you presents you don’t want and take them away again and ask you to marry me and you say no again but keep on asking because though you think I don’t mean it but I always have from the first time I asked you.

I wander the city thinking, but I’m empty without you, but I want what you want and think I’m losing myself.

But I’ll tell you the worst me and try and give you the best of me because you don’t deserve any less. Answer your questions when I’d rather not. And tell you the truth when I really don’t want to. And try to be honest because I knew you prefer it. And think it’s all over but hang on for just ten more minutes before you throw me out of your life, forget who I am. And let me try and get closer you.

… And somehow communicate some of the over-whelming, undying, overpowering, unconditional, all-encompassing, heart-enriching, mind-expanding, ongoing, never-ending love I have for you.

ex-aspirated

Let go. Hold on. It’s either one or the other. Choosing either one over the other. Where will I  be happier.

If  it’s any easier, I should be happy by now. Not this corpse trying to live by each day. Barely able to work through each day. Drained out of all the energy I once had.

It’s strange how a single person can affect you; how he can change your life. And you’re too willing to give him all that you have. But still it seems, it isn’t enough for him. I don’t know if there ever will be some enough for both of us.

He gave up. Surrendered. Walked away. Left. Giving me the answer that hurt too much.

And I said okay. Sulked a little. Cried to get by.

Then move on. Dealing with life. Taking everything. Repairing.

Then he pulls me back.  Just when you’re happy. Just when you’re on the verge of forgetting. And it gets harder.

He maybe worth the fight. But I know couldn’t fight forever.

I don’t know.

sober

…i’m drunk. can you come and get me?..

It took several bottles of liquor to give in. To even ask that of him.  A few more and it was an absolute surrender. I even surprised myself on how much audacity it took to send that first message, to even admit he still is a much part of me.

And the replies somehow kissed more the sadness that I was already feeling. It was some sort of vindication that urge to drink more than I can handle. A rebellious effort to release him from my thoughts; to at least pretend that I am able to forget him.

Although I anticipated the answers, it didn’t make the pain hurt any less. It’s just sometimes, no matter how often we deny it or how often we accept it, we expect more from others because we’d be willing to do that much for them.

It wasn’t about how I was getting home, it was entirely about who I wanted to take me home. Drunk that I was. Just to see if he cared enough. Because I still cared enough even when others cared enough about me. He was the one that mattered.

i belong

I can promise that there will be obstacles in the future, but I can also promise I’ll be there too. Because I’m stuck on you by the world’s strongest glue. It’s a bond in our palms, that I can call choice, an emotion so strong, it gives silence a voice. I will be there to suffer with you, your pain, and obstacles will slide by, but I will remain. When it’s dark, I’ll tell you you’re not alone, when you fall short, I’ll show you how much you’ve grown. when you feel like you’re helpless and stuck, if I can’t pull you out, I’ll jump into the muck. I’ll hold your hand through valley, through hill, not because I have to, but of my own free will. when your life is a mess, and when it’s tidy, I’ll be for you a ribcage, and hold you inside me. Because you are this vital organ that plays my favorite song, and being with you is where i belong.

a prince in a panda suit (?)

This was an old post I published in a social networking site more than a year ago:

I am not the easiest person to fall in love with. I am the girl who walks out on everything.
I am no Cinderella. I am not part of any fairy tale. I am not the kind of girl who awaits for her prince to gallop to her rescue.
My world does not revolve around princes in their gallant costumes. I am not impressed by chivalry (it’s because of how hypocritical it all seem to me). I am not the kind of girl who appreciates extravagant, luxurious things. I’ll choose the simplest things over them. I don’t want to be swept off my feet by some strong muscled rescuer.
I am very much the girl who’s in love with her solitude; who’s devoted to finding out  the real essence of why I am alive in this lifetime and why I am not dead; who’s real happiness lie on the most trivial things; who’s real heartache is not being able to afford to love or being loved or giving the love back…
I am no princess. I do not look for any kind of any handsome prince. This was never my longing… Only a far away dream (isn’t it that love make dreamers out of us all). No longer, I guess. c”,)
Princess or not. Life will never allow us to pause and pick the most beautiful of roses, at least the ones that we were taught to love.
Because in this near me thought (no longer the far away thought, ha ha), someone has redefined a prince after all – dressed as a panda (in my thought anyway), adorable as its comparison – someone who makes me feel unafraid of afterthoughts, someone who makes sense of the uncertainty…
Hmmm… maybe, i found my prince after all… and gawd, how i feel like a princess (scary!) c”,)
Just because…
Hmmmm…

I was so in love then. I really thought he was what I thought he was. That has been always my problem:  fall in love with an idea then fill the ellipses with thoughts that can easily have my heart broken then giving him another chance.

We had one of those arguments again. Accusations at a high speed. He being with someone else under the pretense that it was better for the relationship – our hide-and-seek relationship. I think he didn’t really understand what he’s putting me through.  The waiting. The patience. Rationalizing. These things don’t make any difference.  It always ends up the same, and he doesn’t bother to heal what’s obvious. I think what made the situation worse is I let him and I still let him.

The second chances. The hope that maybe he had changed. The fairy tale that he’ll choose me and then we go off to the sunset and be happy. But these utopian thoughts are slowly becoming a desperate plea to notice what is already factual.

He said he misses me. Then he berated me about having another man. How can he miss someone he doesn’t trust and then goes around town manifesting how he missed HER?  He’s confused. Or am I confused? Either, the result always comes back unsatisfactorily. And I being the recipient of all the heartache.

faith

I used to believe in love as this ultimate, saving thing, as something as strong as religion. But what happens when one loses faith?

One begins to realize that it is not love but rather one person. It may not be who you expect or even who you want it to be but they’ll save you. If but only from yourself, they’ll save you.

Risk is just part of relationships. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t.

— Lock and Key

it’s a choice we make

It’s hard to accept, but you can’t change the past. You can’t go back and manipulate things to the way you wanted them to happen. Because life would be meaningless and boring and just not worth living. But you can change the future and that’s a beautiful thing about life. Yes, you will make mistakes. And yes, you will have bad days – but as long as you let the past go, you’ll have such a gorgeous and bright future ahead of you. Knowing that things were meant to happen. Knowing that each day you will learn something so that you keep growing to be a better person. Life is like a rope, twined in all its complexities and yet weaved into one marvelous stream that you have the chance you use something amazing from. So grab hold of it.

Just to hold you, I ache for it, just to out my lips to the valley of your neck and slide down your body. I don’t like being apart from you, not hearing your voice, not having you close.

He’s the type of guy that could look you in your eyes when you’re knee deep in tissues and your face looks like its been badly beaten, and with all honesty tell you that you’re nothing less than beautiful.

longing…

Call it what you want-that burning feeling in the back of your mind whenever you think of him and all of your thoughts go awry and your heart speeds up, pushing your blood around your body like it’s in a big hurry to go absolutely nowhere-call it obsessive, call it pathetic, call it crazy if you want – the burning, the aching, the sheer longing to see him, the crooked smile, the stern jaw that locks when I laugh at the wrong moments, the wonderful mouth that kisses me goodnight, and sometimes good morning (as well as all of the blacked out parts in between goodnight and good morning), the beautiful artistic hands that draw me pictures and hold my hands when I cry and laugh and listen to what is wrong-call me all of the above, because I love him so much that my very essence of being screams his name24/7 in the deepest recesses of my mind as a not-so-subtle reminder of my absolute devotion and adoration and I now hold my breath just thinking of his wonderful spirit and his beautiful face and that is what I call love.

safe..

You don’t get to choose, you just fall for someone. And you get this person who’s all right and wrong at the same time. Sometimes you love them so much, and other times they drive you completely insane, and no one can explain it. But the reason it’s so confusing is it’s love, and if love didn’t have challenges, what would be the point? No one said falling in love was going to be easy. There will be tears, laughter, anger, but it’s when you want to be together despite it all, that you know it’s true love.

It’s the second before you see me seriously giving up and you grab my face with both your hands, look at me, shake your head “no”, and let your right hand slide back to grab my hair and you kiss me.

It saves us.