photo post - story of my life

Just something I saw somewhere:

Really must be nice to be someone's first, but nothing beats being someone's last!

this time last year

... I was so lovesick... beyond words, beyond any scholarly explanation. I turned a blind eye to the deception, all because my crazy little heart ruled over my brain. I allowed myself to be used and abused and took martyrdom to a whole new level. 

I believed in destiny, in childhood dreams coming true, in fate, in love conquering all, in first love never dying, in infinity and beyond, in forever and a day.  I believed in second chances, in that age old adage of "setting someone free and if it comes back, it is yours forever"... etc etc etc

I was willing to risk everything, to leave everything behind and just live in a place where "kilig" rules and nothing else matters. My happiness and my sense of self-worth depended on a single person. I voluntarily submitted myself to be placed on the bottom of the clearance rack, a place even the most kuripot shopper dare not waste time digging into. 

Someone controlled my happiness and made me feel like I am of so little value, As "Michael" aptly described in My best friend's wedding,I think it came to a point that my whole being was comparable to  "the pus that infects the mucus that cruds up the fungus that feeds on the pond scum"… and the worst part is that I didn't mind at all, I allowed it to happen. I was happily contented at being just pus. 

I am pretty sure my brain was still inside my skull during that time, but it did seemed like it went into a coma. I guess the danger of being alone for a very long time is that you easily fall for the very first person who shows you that you are not alone. 

I am a living proof that no one really dies of a broken heart. After countless nights of crying myself to sleep and taking 30-minute baths (20 minutes of that bath time spent crying), of taking self-pity for breakfast and wishing I had known better. I guess I found my way to moving on. 

They say time heals all wounds, and I have come to believe that it is true. I don't know how, but I woke up one day without the urge to exercise my ninja level stalking skills on Facebook, i was no longer wishing and hoping to get a message on Skype, and love songs ceased to make me stop and think "awwww i can relate". 

I died a little, I cried a lot,and spent a whole lot of time staring blankly and asking myself questions that no one can really answer.There is so much reason for my heart to be filled with hatred and bitterness. But I chose to let go of anger, to forgive but not to forget the lesson. Love is a special thing, I know I am capable of loving, and that there is this one person who deserves all the love and that person is the one who stares back at me every time I look in the mirror. I love myself now, maybe not as much as I should have before, but enough to be able to know what I truly deserve. 

So I guess there will really be people who will come into my life just to strengthen me, so I can move on with my life a better person. They are not meant to stay, they are meant to teach me something. They will be a part of my memory, not my destiny.

nostalgia kicking in again

a blogpost from DEC 2008.....

CATHY's ADVICE


I had a long chat with my high school seatmate Cathy a couple of weeks ago. It was so nice to talk to her again after a very long time. She has migrated, fell inlove, got her heart broken, cried an ocean, fell inlove again, got married and now living blissfully.  She has always been a delight to talk to, so sweet.. to the point that I sometimes wish I could be like her, but then again it would not be me anymore.
She was very enthusiastic when she was telling me about her wedding. How she met her lucky husband, how i loved the personal touch of her menu, how she managed to look stunning despite the fact that it was a do-it-yourself wedding.  Of course, no catching up will be complete without a little nostalgia… our carefree junior high school days, how we would go around the classroom after lunch break to collect some coins from our classmates to be donated to the school to build a new gymnasium (she was the elected treasurer, i was her appointed assistant) and the times i would go to their house in las pinas to finish some projects.

Then she asked me if I still write poetry. I said not  anymore. I was pleasantly surprised that she remembered that I used to write poems. Of course my works would not have been comparable to a Sartre, nor could have it been worthy of a Noble prize, but just the fact that someone remembered my works was compliment enough.  I used to write poetry, back in high school,intense emotions triggers my literary creativity.

Cathy then asked me to try it again, at least to keep me off the television. So here goes… I am not so sure if Cathy checks my blog.. i hope she’ll have time to blog hop one of these days and chance upon my page.

TEARS

The tears I shed,

tell so many tales,

If you see tears rolling down my cheeks,

Would you care enough to ask?

or care even more to listen?

Did I shed a tear because of deep sorrow?

Or could it be tears of joy?

I could have cried out of anger,

or could it be out of fear?

Would tears be enough to replace words I could not say;

like how much I am sorry, or how much I worry?

Am I glad?  Am I sad?  Am I hurt?

Is it because I am missing you?

Or is it because I am happy of where I am right now without you?

Did I try and lost?

Or was I lost and now happily found?

What are the tales that my tears are telling?

Would you bother to stop and try to comprehend?

Or would you just look away, and pretend you never saw me crying?

of dates and travels

I have been blog hopping lately when I came across this one. http://www.solitarywanderer.com/

I can only wish to have a blog just like hers,and also wish I can go to all the places she has been to. Her latest entry, DATE A GIRL WHO TRAVELS got me nodding in approval plenty times over and can't help thinking that she is in a way talking about me too. Why? Here are the reasons why:

• I can't remember the last time I bought a pair of nice party shoes. You know, those glitter-decorated types with very high heels. I'd rather save up for a trip to India. I would love to go to Paris, but not to shop, but to have myself photographed among authentic French kissers.
•  I used to bring a backpack to work. Until i got promoted and had to bring a more corporate looking bag.  But I really love backpacks,I don't mind looking like a ninja turtle with a huge bag behind me. I used to date someone who have always wondered what's inside the huge and heavy bag my 4'11" frame always carries.  Well wonder no more, inside my backpack is a pack of wet tissues, a small bottle of alcohol, mouthwash,toothpaste,toothbrush, a pack of pineapple tidbits (a healthy snack, just in case i feel hungry), a bottle of water(traffic flow from where I work to where I live is unpredictable.. thirsty is unhealthy), a small notebook, a couple of pens, my pouch of over-the-counter medications...
• I don't mind having my clothes soiled. I don't mind a bruise or two. I do not plan to join a beauty contest so I really don't mind getting scratched and wounded on a hike and later having a scar.

And yes, it doesn't take much to amaze me. Stargazing, long walks on the beach, a nice little hike... just the thought of doing these activities with someone special is enough to send shiver down my spine. If only someone would realize the joys of dating a girl who travels.

moving closer

since my social life is as active as a hibernating polar bear, I have been spending much time on the couch... watching TV and dreaming of a bikini ready body.  So while densely immersed in my kapamilya teleserye viewing, I came across this commercial from close up and the hopeless romantic in me immediately fell inlove with this song.

Moving Closer by Never The Strangers. Catchy name. I found it hard to believe that this is homegrown talent.    Want to find out more about this promising group? Check their Facebook fanpage here.

mathematically speaking

*** reposted from a blog i can not access anymore because i forgot the password***

originally posted in July 2007, roughly 5 years went by... still the same sentiments.
READ ON 

whenever I tell people that I graduated a couple of terms later than my batch because I failed 9 units of math in college, they find it hard to believe. But it's true, I failed algebra 1 and 2, and calculus.Ms. Malaya, my algebra prof back then seemed like a dementor... Sucking away all my hopes and happiness. I almost got expelled because I was doing very poorly. But I survived, and even if up to now I still can't figure out the relevance of learning about the hyperbola, or derivatives, there are some stuff that I learned from those seemingly unending hours of math, and ironic if not weird, I relate it to matters of the heart.

tangent lines-lines that had but one chance to meet and then parted forever.

Tragic isn't it? Meeting that one person, getting along so fine, having a grand time together... and then you tell your self that this might just be it, and you are not surprised that the feeling is mutual. And then without both of you knowing it, you're slowly drifting apart. The coffee drinking nights becomes less often, the phone conversations becomes shorter, and the exchange of text messages becomes minimal. To some,this may very much be the case of "the one that got away", but it would mean that you did something to stop it from being free and you failed in doing so. So just think that you are tangent lines, that way, nobody is trying to escape, and nobody is trying to hold somebody back. You just freely followed the path, even if the path will never reach a point wherein you will meet again.

asymptotes-lines that get closer and closer but will never be together.

Now this one is very tricky. A classic case of not knowing exactly where you stand. You get a feeling of security, you have this someone whom you can call, any hour of the day,any day of the week. And he will be there. He will gladly drive you to your college reunion, run errands for you, he can be your wedding date, and you also do things for him... not because you have to, but because yo want to. You have secrets, you may even have a language of your own, you sometimes fight over some trivial things, but you have a way of dealing with disagreements, so you end up sorting things out and compromising. Sometimes you get the feeling that you are dating exclusively, and that the only thing missing is commitment... Yup, the long C word, and that missing link is the one thing that you will never have with him. You just get closer to him, so close that there will come a time you will reach the point of diminishing marginal utility. Then you will move on because it will hit you that you should be looking outside the cozy world you have with him, because you want something more tangible.

parallel lines-lines that will never meet.

You may refer to this as your soulmate, because I've read somewhere before that it may take a couple of lifetimes before you could meet your soulmate.

That's why I am not so keen about meeting my soulmate right now. I just want someone who could kiss all the pain away, who can bring out the best in me and help me be who I want to be...and who would stand by my side, through infinity....and beyond. No point in finding the value of those EXes... it wouldn't matter anyway.