a way back

I wish to find my way back to you.  Or I wish you can find your way back to me. Because right now, while I was writing this, I am thinking I am losing you.

I don’t want to play hide and seek anymore. Seeing who comes out first from the bushes. I am tired waiting for something indefinite. It’s killing me.

It’s either you find me or I find myself. This is not entirely what you want anymore. It’s more what I need right now. And I need myself back.

i want this…

I want this interior… I want this for my future house… *sigh*

This room.. *drool*.. want… Want.. WAnt. . WANT… *drool*

… Or this one…

I can stay forever here. Okay, not exactly forever, but you know what I mean. Days maybe… Weeks even.. ugh, let’s settle for forever… On my want list for my future house…


We grew up. We grew apart. That’s the only explanation I could give him. I knew that we weren’t able to sustain a relationship when we were far apart.

I knew he was coming home. He always do at this time of the year (aside from christmas). I have always been aware of it. He calls to tell me he’s here and to ask me if it was okay to see me. Each time he did, I consciously tried to make an excuse not to because I was still not ready to ask him what I learned at the later year of our relationship and I was still unprepared to really know what really went on with our three-year-old relationship. This went on for more than a year. Sure there were occasional texts, missed calls from him, and emails I never really got a chance to accept because all I could think about is moving on and escaping from his infidelity. All I could think about is going forward, fix the broken pieces.

I don’t think I was able to fix the broken pieces because subconsciously I knew I was missing a piece. I allowed that piece to keep its place and it unceasingly bore resentment towards him, towards myself and commitment in general. Until we were able to finally talk four days ago and acknowledge the fact that sooner or later we need to give each other the closure that should have happened more than a year ago.

My decision to finally cave in to meeting him wasn’t borne out of being hung over him, it was mostly about finally being fair for both of us. It was time. Time for both of us to move on and lead each other away from our past. Time to allow ourselves become happy for each other and renew our friendship. Time that allowed us to accede that we aren’t really made to be lovers. It was time to acknowledge our maturity towards dealing our new status to one another.

I loved him. I love him. I will always love him. The inconsistencies may be unabiding to the rules of romantic relationships but he will always have those feelings from me. I learned much from my relationship with him. I grew up because of him. I attained some maturity as we nurtured as well as neglected each other. That was how helpful we have been to each other. I loved him for the man who once loved me. I love him for what he has overcome. And I will always love him for the friendship he has agreed to have with me.

There may have been pain within the process that led us to finally have a conversation without the malice and what-have-you-done and it’s-all-your-fault and if-loved-me-you-should’ve-have-not-hurt-me-this-much brouhahahaha, but it was all worth it. I dare say it was all worth. Because when we finally met, I knew where I stood and where he stood.

And I understood. He understood. The past didn’t matter anymore. Then we headed different directions. As Friends. Surprisingly sufficient for both of us.