Adios 2012!

Looking back at the 364 days that passed, I cannot begin to precisely describe how 2012 has been for me. It's like driving down a fast lane and all those months seemed like a blurry background instead of a scenic panorama. I guess that's the right word for it. Blurry. Maybe it's the want for forgetting hideous memories or the need to erase the frustrating and stagnant moments speaking here in behalf of my unable lips but, God knows how I spent the entire year (almost) at the bottom of the pit feeling blue and all that shit. And for all that I have been through this year, I never thought that I would be able to redeem myself from the crumbled pieces that was left of me.

But despite the haziness, the fuzz and the drama, there are actually a few really good things and exceptionally extraordinary people here and there that made my year quite bearable if not, fascinatingly delightful. And for all of that; I am very grateful for all the answered and unanswered prayers, for the faith that made me endure the lowest low of my life, for the strength that made me stand my ground and for the will to keep fighting for all the things that made me who I am today. And after a year's worth of battle and constant indecisive procrastination, I am still here. Alive. Strong. Brave. Wise. Ready.

Bring it on 2013!

Eureka Moments #3

This one is for Merce.
..because I know what it's like.

Wounds take time to heal. Nurse yourself to wellness. Help yourself to cope. Nobody is going to do that for you.

On The Verge of Goodbye

... And in that moment, he turned his back and walked away. And just like that scene from the movies, a poignantly melancholic music played; barely there but with each note is a huge blow to the fragile facade of calmness and valor. Everything else faded into the blurry background for in that night, there were only two people in the entire universe and the sound of his footsteps echoed through time and space. Nothing else mattered for with each step, inch by inch they drew apart. Until such distance became frighteningly unbearable and the tears long held captive at bay rebelled their way to freedom...

I never saw it coming.

Nothing could have prepared me for the melodrama of that night. Such a scene was way past my imagination. I wish someone could have warned me; someone could have said that it would be so keen and bittersweet. And until that moment, I thought I was ready to see him go.

The last few minutes ticked by so fast that the sudden and hurried gush of time left me tongue-tied and flabbergasted. He might have noticed my hasty retreat to the deafening stillness of the night. But I was glad for his noncommittal silence because the lump in my throat was tearing me apart. I was afraid to utter a single syllable for maybe a hushed whisper would break me into pieces and expose that frightened little spirit.

I made a promise not to weep when the time comes. And in my head, I've rehearsed all the lines that I would tell him just before he leaves. But I was much too weak for the ultimate coup de grace of that night: he was indeed leaving. The realization struck me so hard and the virulence was almost past bearing. The reality was like an overwhelming avalanche and my ineptitude to take hold of my senses took its toll on me.

It’s a shame on me for having to weep like there’s no tomorrow and for soaking his shirt with tears. But the suppressed worries and the miles that would soon separate us clawed ruthlessly at the back of my mind was too much for me to handle. I wish my tears were eloquent enough to let him know of the things that I wanted to tell him. I wish my tears were enough to make him remember and never forget all of yesterday's dreams and tomorrow's promises.

I never knew that it could ever be so tormenting. It was hard to see him leave; even harder to let go of his hands. But I must endure what I have to endure. That is the only way for me to make it through the agonizing days and coldest nights that would come.

... As the taxi slowly gained speed, I continued to look at him even from a distance. Never taking my eyes off him, I whispered a vow I know I would keep.

I will be waiting... patiently, steadfastly waiting.

Eureka Moments #2

http://blingee.com/blingee/view/129561915-Nothing-Lasts-Forever

Nothing lasts forever.

At some point, something or someone is gone for eternity and the grief accompanying the loss is felt with nothing but a defeated resignation.

Face it; accept it with your head held high. For in this loss, you shall gain the strength to heal and the wisdom to live.

Eureka Moments #1

There are no regrets; only lessons learned. Know that in regret, time is wasted. Devout your present in learning from the past so you can make yourself adept for the future.

http://favim.com/image/329054/

Utopia

This one is for my Fifi.

...against all odds.

The past few weeks went by with such a blinding speed that I struggled to keep my head above water and catch my breath. And in this breathless transition, I know I am heading for uncharted waters.

No. On a second thought, this place is too familiar. This known ambiance; the look, the feeling, the scent; I know them like the back of my hand. But somewhere along a fine grid, there is this strange ambiguity. It is beyond me why I feel so foreign and so unorthodox to be here; why I feel so lost when I can see myself heading a definite path.

Maybe it's the staggering potency of guilt that threatens to intoxicate my conscience and poison my being. Maybe it's the fear of being ostracized and stereotyped or perhaps the unwarranted plight to the unconventional that made me doubt my discretion. But no,  I made up my mind and I refuse to neither listen nor give in to the dreadful voices of terror and reason for I know I made the right choice. And although others would say that my decision showed an utter lack; if not; total absence of rational judgement, I am certain of my choice. 

Let them condemn me and scorn me for my avaricious endeavor but this is what I have to say; I would not let anyone deter me or lead me away from something that I know would make me happy. And no matter how wrong or how selfish people would think I am, I am ready to turn my back to the ruthless mockery and shameless hypocrisy of the pretentious and deceiving society I thought I knew. I am ready to inhibit and abandon what is left of me and my pride if it means liberation from the oppressive and misleading bigotry of those who claim to be high and mighty.

Do not let me explain; do not let me justify my choice to go against logical reason and morality for my lips are sealed. I do not expect to be understood. Nothing necessitates an explanation. Sometimes, you do not need to think. All you have to do is just let fate take its course and just go with the flow.

With all honesty, I do not know how and why I got myself in this situation. I do not know how things will be from now on or how they would turn out to be in the end. But to this, I am sure; I am willing to take the risk and the burden that goes with it yet again. I may have fallen hard before, but I've learned my lessons well and now, I am strong enough to make my stand.

People may find this hard to believe and they may look down on me for this; but if it will take a Herculean effort to stand for what I believe in, then I will surpass Zeus's supremacy or I shall die trying. And if I have to be like Atlas and carry the weight of my decision on my own bare shoulders, then be assured that there will be no fragile bone in my body; there will be no room for cowardly weakness. I will not crumble for in his hands, I have strength and in his eyes is where I shall draw my courage.

I am not proud of what I did. It's a shame that I have to resort into doing something so hurtful and horrible. Believe me; I am at a loss for words. I do not know how to begin my apology. My humble words are not enough to express and properly articulate how sorry I am for the pain that I have caused. No one is to be blamed; not even the circumstances. I have only myself to be castigated for what had transpired. I am truly sorry and I deeply regret having to put someone in such an excruciating situation. Know that I never wish for anyone to experience such a terrible misfortune. But everything has been said and done. And as egotistical as it may seem, I do not want to turn back time and undo everything.

They say that there is no happy ending for something that started on a wrong track. Perhaps they are right. But I dare say that even mistakes have redemption. If in the end this will turn out to be hideous and painful, then I guess it's the price I should pay for my defiance and selfishness; a small price I'm willing to pay for such a wonderful decadence, nonetheless. And no matter what the future shall hold, I would like to look back at this exact moment and tell myself that I have finally found the spine to stand up and fight for something so beautiful even if it's not the righteous of things; that I did not walk out on something that is worth taking the risk and the sacrifice. Because I know that turning my back on him is something I do not wish to live with for the rest of my life.

With my head held high, I shall say this with no remorse; I am ready to face the consequences of my actions. I am ready to hold his hand and face the uncertainty of tomorrow. I stand by my words, by my decision, by him, by us. If this makes me the bad person, then so be it. Whatever is wrong with following your heart, I'd rather be wrong and be true to myself than to be right and lie to the rest of the world.

If this is what fate destined me to do; where I am destined to be, then let him be my utopia. Let this be my perfectly flawed world.

An Affair To Remember

In the silence of the night, two lips have met; two bodies have joined.

Two worlds became one.

Two lost souls linked together by time.

For in that moment, what was missing was lost no more.

One look, one touch, one kiss and everything was on fire.

Passion burning logic and reason.

Desire tearing doubts and inhibitions.

Morning will come soon.

It will just be a matter of time.

And with a new day comes the inevitable.

All shall be gone.

All things shall come to an end.

But for this one night; this last night, all the stars will collide and all the heavens will watch in awe for such a splendid sight. 

One look, one touch, one kiss and everything was theirs for the taking.

Every wish was granted.

Every prayer was answered.

If tomorrow shall bring Armageddon and they will be damned; then tonight; even just for tonight, they found the sanctuary of the angels.

A few more minutes and morning light shall shine, a few more minutes before that last goodbye.

Tears refused to be shed as a wide-eyed stranger stared at the vast horizon of the night.

One more look, one more touch, one more kiss.

Hold me close; hold me, my dear.

The end is near.

We will fall apart, I fear.

One last look, one last touch, one last kiss.

Alas! This is the last.

The future seem unclear.

One thing is for certain though.

The end is here and goodbye to you I shall bid with a tear.

I shall weep for the days to come and look back with sordid regret.

I shall keep coming back to that night; that night I will never forget.

The End

The truth will set you free but first it will piss you off. 

-Gloria Steinem 

For the first time in my entire existence, I felt really exhausted with everything. I was dead tired of having to stay in just one place. The desperation to leave, to move, to start anew urges me to free myself from everything that I loathed but cowardice held me captive. I was so mad with not having the courage to stand up and move. And I hated myself for allowing this to happen, for allowing myself to be in constant refusal and denial. My angst and frustrations chained me in a limbo. I felt so powerless, so weak and so unable. It’s a waste to see an audacious spirit being trampled and left meek, hesitant and shamed. So, I made a conscious decision of putting my inner voice in solitude for a period of time. For maybe in this silence, I shall find the peace amid the noise, the order amid the chaos.

I never knew, never expected that in this state of blackness, of nothingness, I would find myself. It’s a rewarding, if not, a satisfying endeavor after a journey into that colossal oblivion. I now have the answer; the missing piece to the puzzle. The reason why I was stuck in stagnant waters is that I never knew I was missing in the first place. I guess sometimes you’re too busy giving everything, doing anything that you forget to look after yourself. It’s a shame that I've made up so many excuses, wasted too many chances before I realized that the truth isn't that bad at all. It’s not that I never knew the truth. The truth was right there on my face all along. I was just not ready to acknowledge it, to accept it because honestly, I was too scared. I was too caught up in my world of perfect idealism that I failed to see that the reality sometimes is harsh and brutal. But reality nevertheless, is real. And if it beats you up just to make you see the sense of it all, then I guess this is a blow I deserved.

Swallowing all of these wasn't easy. It took a lot of time and a lot of painstaking effort detaching myself from my comfort zones before I faced the fact that you have to fall before you learn how to stand. The truth indeed has the capability to set us free. We just have to be brave and deal with it. So what if he disappeared on me and that I wasn't even worth a break up? He was just not that into me anymore so, he’s gone. It’s a plain, simple and logical reason. There is nothing that I could have done to stop him from leaving and moving on. There is nothing that could have prevented what is destined to happen. It’s too vehement, too nasty and too horrible but it’s the truth nonetheless. He’s never mine to begin with. He never was and he never will. I’m able digest that bile-like fact now.

I have never really known the meaning of ‘moving on’ up until now. Moving on is when you finally have the courage to look in the mirror and say; you have loved and lost but it’s not about losing love that matters, the most important thing is that you are able to take the risk and still love someone even if the future is uncertain. That makes us, humans, so vulnerable yet so powerful at the same time.

I have lost him short after we said our hellos and long before our goodbyes. But there is no use in lamenting over something lost but was never really mine even from the beginning. I just have to take all the lessons, learn from it and go on. Life still has a lot to offer me. I need not to have a two-way closure because this, in itself is my way of closing things. He will always be a part of me, a part of who I am, a part of my past. He will always be that something wonderful but never came to be. This is now the end. This is how it should be.

Nursing School: Been There, Done That #2

No PUKING Please

If you're planning to take up nursing or any medical related course, heed my warning: Prepare for something GROSS because working in the health care field requires a tough gut. Stool samples, oozing blood and wound abscess are just part of the tip of the iceberg, baby. So if you do not have a brave tummy, then I guess you might want to look at some pictures of gory stuff first. That might somehow give you an I'm-used-to-seeing-that confidence. However; the sad thing is (and let's face it) a picture, no matter how real it may look, can never substitute the real thing. So, the only remedy to this is to experience first-hand the look, the smell and the feel of the gore itself. Don't worry. You're allowed to freak out a little bit if it's you're first time. You'll get used to it in the long run anyway.

As for me, I don't mind blood and gore. My appetite wouldn't care if there's an eviscerated surgical wound in front of me. But what ticks me off is the sound of a suction machine especially if it starts to suck in phlegm. Do not get me wrong here. The sight of phlegm no matter what color or odor it has doesn't bother me at all. But God! When the catheter sucks in that sticky goo and starts to make that awful sound, it's downright disgusting to my ears. It even came to a point before that whenever I hear a loud slurp-like noise, even if it's not the suction machine working, my gag reflex just goes berserk. It's a good thing that I can stop myself from puking whenever I perform such nursing skill; it requires a great of effort, sweat, saliva and tears though. Just don't ask me how I do it. And Alleluia for face masks! Or else, my patient and my patient's relatives would surely see me make that shit-it's-so-fucking-gross-I-can't-help-but-puke face. But I am after all a mere human being. I guess I'm allowed to react that way. LOL.

If only I can wear earplugs whenever I use this, I most definitely WOULD.
http://jsmedsupply.com/respiratory.html

One thing is for sure though; let's keep our reactions to ourselves in times like this one. We do not want to offend the patient or his "bantay", do we?

Nursing School: Been There, Done That

It's a shame that I didn't have the chance to write about my life as a nursing student as it started, happened, progressed and commenced. Was I really that busy? Or was I just one of the many who took the experience for granted and never really realized that being in a nursing school is a four-year endeavor worth the risk? Nevertheless, I believe it is not too late to share what I have been through as a student nurse. Besides, after a year of being officially out of school, I never really realized that it would actually feel good to reminisce those days of immaculate white uniforms and all the things that went with and through it. So here I go..

Nursing School: Been There, Done That #1

Something Smells... BAD!

Whether it be lochia, stool, or gangrene, there will always be that something that leaves an unpleasant stench in a student nurse's nostrils.

 I remember that time when I was on duty at the Delivery Room of this certain hospital when I was a third year nursing student. I don't know if my Olfactory nerve is severely damaged or if the whole area just stinks so bad that even if I got rid of my scrubs and bathed in my body spray after my duty, I can still smell the formidable combined odor of a century-old lochia and a perineum that haven't been washed with soap and water for a millennium.

And here's the thing.

YOU CAN'T HELP BUT BREATHE IN THE STINKING ODOR. Unless of course if it's possible for you hold your breath the entire time you're rendering care to your patient or if you're just so lucky you have colds the entire rotation.

What to do?

Do not forget your face mask!

DEAL WITH IT. It's not your fault it stinks. BUT IT'S NOT THE PATIENT'S FAULT TOO. So, do not ever complain out loud that it smells awful and do not ever say that you can't do anything about it. You can, however; teach your patient good personal hygiene practices or attend to his wounds and lesions (if this is where it stinks). You can also advise patients to adhere to their treatment regimen since some disease conditions are primarily the reason for the ill-smelling body discharges. And DO NOT EVER FORGET TO WEAR YOUR FACE MASK if you do not want to be nauseated by the overwhelmingly foul odor. In instances where the odor still seeps through the barrier of your face mask, you can use two instead of one. But if unfortunately you happen to have only one, then here's what you should do: Pour a small amount of cologne in a handkerchief and carefully place it in between your nose and your face mask. It will add an extra barrier so that stink won't reach your nostrils. Just hide the hankie well underneath the mask because some patients are born with an extra peel of sensitivity and might find this offensive.

That's it for now. Will be writing more soon!

I'm Just Saying

Out of boredom I decided to check my blog. Gosh. It has been a while since I last posted something in here. I suddenly miss venting out my thoughts no matter how silly or nonsense they may seem. But that's the point of blogging, right? It's a chance to tell the world what you think when no one is interested to listen. It doesn't matter if you whine, you rant or you rave. The point is you speak your mind. And here lies my problem.

Most people I know say things out loud specially in the boiling point of their temperament that they forget to think before they speak and I'm no exception. In my case, I write/blog before I consider my choice of words. And before I know it, three things happen: One; I've harmed someone even if it really is not my intention. Two; people seem to think I'm some tactless bitch and three; I make a fool out of myself by saying things that I haven't really given much thought of.

HERE ARE THREE THINGS I WOULD SAY TO THAT: One; I do believe that man by nature is good and that whatever wrongdoing he has done was brought about by factors beyond his control. If he is angered by something and says something bad, I would like to believe that as a conscious being, he does not mean to hurt through his words. It's his anger that clouds his judgement talking there and not him as a person. Two; people can call me tactless and all that shit, but if I feel like ranting, I think I have the right to do so. You would find my posts irrelevant and you would find my thoughts a nuisance in the World Wide Web, but nobody is forcing you to read my blog. You are free to leave my page. And three; if I ever make a fool out of myself by saying things, then so be it. I really don't give a damn what others would think.

BUT THERE IS ONE THING I THINK I SHOULD DO NOW. Since I cannot part with my writing/blogging habit and I can never stop myself from ranting, I think that now is the perfect time for a change in the way that I speak my mind. Change is the only constant thing in this world so, why not go with the flow and adapt some modifications eh?

Thoughts on Father's Day

Dad, I used to be your little girl. I remember those times when you used to cradle me while you're watching the NBA playoffs. I remember those times when kissing you was a habit of mine and would forget that moment when I fell down from that pump boat and plunged into the river one summer getaway we had years ago. I could have drowned if not for your strong arms that encircled my body and lifted me from the water.

But those were the days. Times have changed and growing up was inevitable. We fought a lot. My skirts were too short. I failed my math tests. I talked back. I ignored my curfew hours. Our different perspectives clashed in instances too many to count. Until one day, that awkward silence drew us apart.

Indeed times have changed and growing old is inevitable. But now, as I have come to my adulthood, I have finally seen the meaning behind your frowns and overprotective gestures. I have seen and felt the sacrifices you have to endure so that I could have the kind of life that you didn't get to have in your youth.

Thanks Dad. My humble words are not enough to fully express how lucky and thankful I am for having you. We may not talk a lot. But I know you will always be two steps behind me in every journey I venture.

I'm a big girl now. I'm no longer that little brat with curly hair and chubby cheeks. But hey, I will always be your baby. I love you. HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!

What I Did A Week Before The Board Exam

I cannot believe that it has almost been a year since that fateful July 2011 Integrated Comprehensive Nursing Licensure Examination. Oh, time indeed flies by so fast. I remember those days when no words could ever describe the hodgepodge of emotions I felt during my "preparation" for that big test. It was like everything was so surreal. The days seemed like mere hours ticking by the clock in an unusually fast paced manner and the only two things I did was stare blankly at the pile of books and notes I know I should have read a long time ago and bit my nails.

For a carefree and happy-go-lucky student that I was back in Nursing school, I was under the impression that the entire four years of my college education was not enough for me to make it through the test unscathed. I was never diligent enough to study and pay attention in lectures and skill demonstrations back then that it made me really worry as to how I would do in the board exam.

As July came near, it seemed to me that no amount of anti-anxiety agents could ever drown my jittery nerves, fidgeting senses and those annoying butterflies in my stomach. Adding to that are those concepts I found alien in nature while everyone around me seemed to know what the hell those were about. Hence, the anxiety and the pressure was so nerve racking that each heartbeat is like a wild rhythm of a drum. So in order for me to keep my sanity before the upcoming exam, I coped up by doing the following things a week before the NLE:

1. I prayed hard. God knows I forgot a lot of shit and that I could never read the entire tome-like volumes of my Medical-Surgical Nursing, Fundamentals of Nursing, Maternal and Child Health, Psychiatric Nursing and Community Health Nursing in just a week. Not to mention all those notes I have amassed all throughout college and those that came from my review classes. I suddenly became the religious and the pious one; bowing my head and closing my eyes for that badly needed miracle on the day of the exam.

2. I crammed. I KNOW I SHOULD HAVE READ ALL THOSE BOOK MONTHS BEFORE, EVEN YEARS BEFORE THE BOARD EXAM. But because I'm good at being lazy when it comes to studying, my new-from-the-bookstore-looking-books-that-laid-sleeping-in-my-old-drawer-for-three-years-accumulating-dust were ravaged by my frantic and nervous hands resulting to over highlighted paragraphs and folded/torn pages. (I can't carry the books around so I tore a number of pages that consisted an entire chapter so I could read them on the go.)

3. I attended my Final Coaching review like I'm some fanatic devotee. Because the venues for my review sessions were too far from where I was residing, my attendance record was a little bit shady. And because summer was too tempting, I cut classes. There were days when I was not in the mood to attend classes at all and traveled to other places instead. But during the last week of the review, when my predicament finally sank in on my mind, I decided to be seriously involved with the review sessions thinking it will be my only redemption in the coming Armageddon. (And because a lot of good stuff comes out during these critical days. *wink*)

4. I slept. Like a lot. Going home from the final days of my review classes felt like I was finally going home after a long journey. Yes, I was that exhausted. But my mom always says that to study with a tired mind and a weary body is useless since you're just going to be out of focus. So there, I heeded her advice and slept like a baby.

5. I delighted my appetite with delectable treats. This is stress eating. (LOL)

6. The clinical instructors at the Nursing school that I attended said that we should expect a time-pressured test so it would be better to train ourselves with at least a hundred or so items of practice test a day with an hour limit months before the exam. No, I never did that. Instead, I got those practice test sheets I've had from the review classes and those copies of my finals and midterms exams back in college and scanned through them. I read through the pages and noted those that I do not understand and remember. Most of them had answers anyway and it felt foolish if I'd erase the correct letters and try to answer the tests again. Besides, I'm cramming remember?

7. On the eve of the first day of the exam, my anxiety skyrocketed and my insides were turning upside down. I felt dizzy and I puked everything I ingested for that day. Astonishingly, all those comfort food that I could think of afterwards wielded my rebel of a stomach. I guess that's the reason why they're called comfort food eh?

DISCLAIMER: What I have written here are not tips for those aspiring nurses as to how they could manage go about the hell of a week before the NLE. I know it is going to be a HELL OF A WEEK. Trust me on this one. I have been there and I know how exactly it feels. This was my way of coping up with the pressure and the huge demand of the exam. If you are reading this and you are about to take that life changing examination; do not follow suit. It's not that I did not passed the exam because I did all those shit, (I actually did. God granted me a miracle. HAHA.) but because every individual has a way of coping up with the different demands of life. Know that whatever it is that you are doing and feeling as of this anxiety-filled moment, it is normal. Just stick to your study habit, (If ever you have one. But if you have none, just pray for a miracle like I did.) do not be complacent, give it your best shot and remember that prayer is still the best weapon you can carry before you go to war. Good luck to all those who will be taking the NLE! Ace the test!

Back to Square One

After an almost three-week long hiatus, I am back with an enthusiasm that I think I have never known of before.

I guess the last three weeks were enough to finally put the past to its grave.

Yes, that's right. I'm now ready to move forward and start anew. 

There is no doubt in my mind that what I have been through was definitely a first for me and is certainly on my top list of the toughest things I have encountered in the entire 21 years of my existence. Hell, it was even dreadful than the July Integrated Comprehensive Nursing Licensure Examination horror last year. But then again, although battle-scarred, I managed to survive with not only my principles and sanity intact, but with an extra shield of strength, courage and wisdom.

To fall from a setback and be frustrated by your own stupidity actually has a lot of perks than its negative counterpart. Imagine having to lose 10 lbs in just a week without undergoing that sweaty and tiresome workout. Or that moment when you’re just so exhausted at looking hideous and at feeling overly insecure that you finally craved for a change; to look at your best and to redeem yourself from melancholia. The lessons you've learned from your mistakes will not be negated too as well as the emergence of an updated version of yourself; a better, stronger and wiser upgrade.

I know whatever it is that happened is just the tip of an iceberg in this earthly occupation of mine. There will still be more wretched things that would go my way; a far cry from what I have dealt with in the past. There will still be numerous bumps, bruises, blows and wrong turns to come. One thing is for sure though, quitting is NOT AN OPTION. After all, there will always be a rainbow after the rain right?

Farewell To You

I want you to know that I'm getting by. I want you to know that as time flies by, the wounds are now turning into scars. The first few days were hard and it was definitely a blow that caught me off guard. I was in an adamant refusal that it was the end of the road. To me, it felt like I was a kid again and I'm being deprived of something that I'm already used to having. I was so attached at what short and limited bond that we had that I was beginning to weave a basket full of dreams. It's funny how as I've looked back at what happened; I could now smile bitterly at my own foolishness. I was so busy looking up at the stars and too preoccupied with their beautiful promises that I forgot the stones at my feet. Please do not feel sorry for me. I've had enough of that for myself. It's true, I stumbled and fell; bruises and cuts bled and I can hardly say I'm okay back then. I was mad and frustrated not at you but at what you did. But I think that you should know that I do not blame you for what has transpired. I brought it upon myself without any inhibition and I didn't even care for precautionary measures.

It's been quite a while now; quite a span of time to allow recuperation. I wanted to ask you so many questions and I wanted to yell and nag but I could never bring myself to do such things; fearing that those might estrange us more. I never knew that I could be ever glad for the departing silence we both allow to further the long and distant gap between us. For in this dead air; I have understood quite a handful of ambiguities in life and for that, I could not thank you enough. Do not worry about me and go on; chase your dreams. I will be okay. What happened was just a setback that I haven't anticipated and from this, I have grown and learned a few things. It is still a long road for me and I think I can manage to find my way around.

This might be the last time that you will hear from me. Know that despite all the things said and done, I'm happy that I've had the chance to encounter someone like you. Do not get me wrong; I do not intend to end this with a bitter remark. In fact, I wanted this to be my final adieu to you. The one that we're both entitled to. There was a time when I so desperately seek out the reasons; your reasons as to why things has to end that way, but I failed to see that even now I'm still too weak to face the truth so, I'll be leaving things the way that I think it should be. Reasons are no longer as essential for whatever those could be; I do not think that in my current state, I have the ability to comprehend them. My reluctance to talk to you does not mean I don't care. I do. It's just that I still cannot battle my inner demons. I do not mean to offend you with what seem like an impersonal goodbye; much less a very public array of farewell. I'm sorry that my lack of brevity and courage has brought me down to this. You deserve a lot more. Sadly, I cannot give you that much. But for all that it was and for all that it's worth; for me, it felt real. To me, it was real. Goodbye.

Not Just For The Sake of Writing

I do not fancy being called a writer simply because I believe I am a novice at this craft. I may have written a mishmash of passing thoughts and a jumble of chronicled emotional outbursts but then again, those might not qualify me as a writer. And although there exist a contrast between being a writer and being a blogger somewhere along a fine line; it is however, not a pressing issue for me since I know that the distinction of both is something that I shouldn't be much paying attention to. For both allows the freedom of expression in ways that I see no difference at all. All I could ever precisely comprehend is that words are created base on the need to communicate. A lexicon, a jargon, layman's terms and highfalutin words; all of it generated from the need to deliver a message. A message that does not guarantee understanding and enlightenment for all but nonetheless, a message in itself.

In this world of chaotic and confusing misunderstanding and misinterpretation, words are my peaceful sanctuary; my little piece of heaven. They have become an integral part of my being and my most efficient way of making concrete ideas and tangible feelings. Writing has become my strongest voice in which I can never be dumbfounded. It has become an invaluable compendium of my reflections and realizations in this bizarre way of life. Most of all, writing is a good desolate friend that lets me share the ups and downs of living.

I should have done this before I provided my e-mail address and password to create a Blogspot account. That was a long time ago and I cannot recall why I haven't thought of this back then. Maybe it's the eagerness to start pouring my heart out through an abysmal slew of words or maybe the blabbermouth in me that hindered me to think about giving a forewarning to those who will be coming across this part of the World Wide Web. In the days that passed after the decision to put up my own egocentric online fib, I have written less and less given the demands of school and the struggles of keeping up with the pace of life that made me ignore my solitary companion; writing. It even came to a point where stagnation was crystal clear. And in that stagnant disregard, I lost touch with my inner voice.

Until recently, I have decided to resurrect my blog and seek refuge to the comfort that it once provided me. It felt awkward getting my reigns back and being in-charge again of my wild perspectives. But I'm glad for having to get by just fine. I do not plan to justify my freedom to use writing as my medium to convey and communicate. I'm not even sure if I'm writing for an audience or for posterity's sake or for the mere satisfaction of my need to rant. Hey, I’m not great at this, probably not even close to being fair. But in this eureka moment of mine, what is clear to me now amid my ever constant cluttered mind is that I will blabber about anything and everything. This is what I'm good at. I tittle-tattle and these are my boisterous thoughts.

Thoughts On Mother's Day

My most formidable foe these days is sloth basking in a glow of nothingness. I don't know why for the love of god I feel this obscure laziness these past few days making me stall on something I look forward in doing. Maybe it's the bummer in me saying I have an infinite supply of time to bother making an effort. And so for days, I've procrastinated and delayed my purpose. It's already 7:17 pm on my screen and I'm still uninspired. I've thought ahead of this but the blank, wasted days behind me deprived me of the right things to say. 

7:30 pm. I still have nothing on my mind. I'm getting frustrated now. I feel like I'm going to fail yet again this year. See, I've always wanted to write something about my mom. She may not be perfect but she's entirely the best at least in mine and my sibling's point of view and that should count. It's the only thing that should and other people's opinion of her and her parenting couldn't matter more. I wouldn't care less about how people see her. For me, she's the epitome of all things good. All moms are regardless of their mistakes, flaws and weaknesses. 

7:38 pm. Thank God I'm getting somewhere. I thought about having kids of my own someday. Little ones I could call my own but the trail begins and ends there. As to how I'm going to have kids? I'll think of ways. If no options are available, I'll improvise. Don't get me wrong. I'm not desperate. I'm not in the position to be but, I just don't see myself as a wife. A mom? Absolutely. A wife? I don't think so as of the moment. Why? Well, I don't think this is the time to discuss about it. Anyway, I'm not going to venture on that uncharted lands now. Maybe some other time will do. Perhaps by then I'm finally enlightened. Besides, the spotlight is on my mom and all the moms out there today. It's this time of the year again where prodigal sons and daughters like me remember how special and wonderful those women who braved life and death only for us to breathe and have the best that life could offer. 

8:09 pm. Wow. That previous paragraph took time. But at least I'm halfway there. Going back to my line of thought, I've seen how life is conceived from day one until that aggravating period of bringing forth life on earth. I mean bringing forth literally as I've been in a front row seat of excruciating labor pains and agonizing deliveries a number of times in the past. Not that I've been pregnant but my field of profession gave me VIP access during birthing and mind you; as much as it is amazing to see how life came out of another person's body, it isn't a very appetizing and appealing flick. Not just that. Let's not forget the 9 month-period of mood swings, food cravings, blues and weight gain. 

8:24 pm. No. Things do not end there for a mother. In fact, it's just the beginning of that extraordinary odyssey. You and I would probably not remember those sleepless nights where a wailing infant rattles an entire household because he's hungry or his diaper needs changing. It's also not in our memories how we steered to pull heartbreaking stunts and managed to break mom's favorite porcelain, create a mess out of her makeup and upset her because we just got bumps and bruises from reckless playing. Those times when mama wanted to buy that beautiful shoes or bag but wouldn't because her daughter wanted so much that dress at an unbelievably expensive boutique or that her son would need the extra cash for school would escape our notice too. What we probably would remember are those times when we argue with her just because she said we're too young to party, too immature to date, too messy in our rooms and too childish to earn their trust. Yeah. Those moments will surely be remembered specially those times when we got grounded and those when we got spanked out of our naughtiness and hardheadedness. Those times have been bad and hard on our part and we'd think mommy's being too nosy and too protective that she gets a hold of our freedom with vise grips. Little did we know how it actually hurts nanay too when she hears us talk back, break curfew rules and fall down hard from our mistakes that shouldn't have happened in the first place if only we've listened to her. 

8:45 pm. I have to end this now. It's getting too long and I'm running out of words. The whole point of this is, motherhood isn't an easy task. Others would agree with me on this specially those who've been there and done that. I am no expert and certainly I do not have a firsthand experience but, I would dare say that to be a mother, one needs to have and exert a herculean effort to go about the commitment. Yes. Motherhood is a lifetime commitment and a lasting responsibility. It isn't a benign and monotonous task. It's a conquest of great efforts and sacrifices. My mom's ways maybe esoteric and sometimes misunderstood but when the time comes and it's going to be my turn, I know things will unfold little by little for me and until then, I'll strive hard to be the daughter she's going to be proud of. 

9:05 pm. Seriously. I should end this before I choke on my tears. To you, mom and to all the mothers out there, thank you so much for the selfless and unrelenting love, patience and kindness. I salute you for the everyday sacrifices that you've made just so we could be the best and we could have the best. 

9:23 pm.

I love you Ma.

Quarter-life Ruminations

"Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional." 

-Cindy Gerard 

I woke up this morning and stared at the ceiling for the longest time. It's a habit I've developed over the years and a habit I just couldn't break. My mind is at its clearest at this time of the day allowing me to think of all sorts of things from random thoughts to nostalgic memories to list of things-to-do for the day. Today; however, was different. As I lay there on my bed with eyes wide open, I suddenly felt a wave of triteness out of nowhere and then like a rocket flying at the speed of light, it hit me. It's been two decades now, two decennia of sharp and blunt mementos of a life lived in flowing waters. Like a floating leaf, I have been going where the currents and tides take me. No compass, no maps, no directions or whatsoever. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or if this will lead me somewhere but as of now, it's just me and the winds and the waves cruising together. 

Oh boy. I'm getting old am I? And dependence is taking its toll on me. I've always thought of myself as someone who can stand the test of time; someone who can stand her ground. Alas! I had it all wrong. Notwithstanding this mask of denial, I have now realized that I have been complacent in relying unto others in almost everything that I do. Almost. Since human basic needs are granted by primitive instincts, these are the only close-ended questions I answer with free will. The rest? I can only say, “Ask them” or “It depends”. I abhor the fact that decisions have to be made in accordance to what others will think and feel about the specific matter. I despise how words are uttered in subtle variations as to not harm or hurt people even if it means covering the grave and harsh truths. I detest how special considerations are done so as to attain the approval of those you've considered the wise even if it means sacrificing your own principles, beliefs and happiness. 

Oh the frivolities of life can sometimes be very sarcastic. It's ironic how when I was young, I wanted to grow up and be an adult in no time to relish that strange kind of freedom and self actualization but now that I can already consider myself one, there is not a single day that I wish I could turn back time and savor the innocence of being a kid again. Time flies by so fast that it seems to me it was just yesterday when I made that silly wish of becoming a grown up in the soonest possible time. Be careful what you wish for. It might just come true. I guess this is the point where a genie would have said; "I hate to say this but, I told you so."

Everything is easy and carefree in the eyes of the young. It's something I wish could have highly regarded when I was kid instead of hurrying to grow old and grow up. Gone are the days of childhood, my childhood. Gone are the days of naïveté and playhouse games, of rhymes and fairy tale endings and it's upsetting how the world is very capable of corrupting the candor and the impeccable outlook of a person who was once a child. Someone should have warned me about how life gets so chaotic and complicated when you have come of age but unfortunately for me, nobody did. Ergo, I wasn't prepared to face the realities of life as I know it. And I continuously tread the waters one slow yet, phlegmatic step at a time for an agitated and hurried stride could send me drowning in the pool of man's selfish endeavors. 

I've grown old but I'm afraid that I am not yet ready to grow up. Something tells me that I still cannot carry the burdens of the responsibilities passed on to me. I fear that my lack of preparedness and hindsight will eventually be the cause of my downfall. I find the uptight and required maturity that comes with age further complicates a simple mathematical equation of 1+1 into an intricate x ² + (a+b)x + AB = (x + a)(x + b) and so why bother? I do not want to worry about the future as much as I wanted to enjoy the present and forget the past for learning from what has transpired could wait for another day. You can call it procrastination but I call it giving a rest from what seem to be a pandemonium and disarray way of life. And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I was shunned to this optimistic approach. There is no way for me to turn back now. It isn't scientifically possible. So, I guess my only option now is to go forth and live a life that is expected of me. Whatever it is.

Somebody That I Used To Know

Just a few days ago, I decided to write my last piece about the emotional roller coaster that I have been through for a couple of weeks. I promised myself that I wouldn't let what happened bring me down again. I promised myself that I will exhaust all my efforts in trying to forget things and trying to live again. After all, it's all been said and done so what's left for me to do is pick up where he left off and that's one stingy truth I have learned to accept and live with now. Part of that promise is that I wouldn't talk or write about this ill-gotten circumstance of mine so that I won't be able to think about it much and so that I could bury the past six feet under. I didn't expect much since it has just been almost a month since that night, but I'm actually doing good so far after I've made a decision of cutting the strings and letting it all loose. I'm pretty surprised that these past few days weren't an ordeal for me anymore. I can sleep early without having to take antihistamines (I don't have a prescription for sleeping pills), I can go about my daily routines without having to wonder or think about him all the time. I'm slowly trying to function like myself again before him.

So what made me write a blog about something that I vowed not to talk about? Well, my cousin made me listen to a song two nights ago and I was amazed that it perfectly described how I felt. It's like the missing piece in a jigsaw puzzle or Cinderella's missing shoe. A perfect fit. It was so appropriate that I was actually able to relate to it rather well. I tried not to be bothered by it and ignored this obsession of making a blog out of it since I already made up my mind about sealing the past, but the song was stuck inside my head that I find myself singing it all day. My mind is really preoccupied about the song that it came to an extent that writing about it is like an itch that I couldn't ignore. Hence, this entry.

I won't hide the fact that when I first heard the whole song, it brought the same familiar kind of sadness and I was in the brink of tears, but I felt comfort in knowing that somehow someone knows exactly how it feels to be cut off by someone you think was the one. Well, except for the friendship and the changing of the number part (you'll know what I mean after this paragraph) since that never happened to us, but the gist of the song is what hit me big time. So, without further ado, here's Somebody That I Used To Know by Gotye featuring Kimbra. I've included the lyrics for those interested and for those who wanted to sing-along.

"Somebody That I Used To Know"

(Gotye feat. Kimbra)

Now and then I think of when we were together
Like when you said you felt so happy you could die
Told myself that you were right for me
But felt so lonely in your company
But that was love and it's an ache I still remember

You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness
Like resignation to the end, always the end
So when we found that we could not make sense
Well you said that we would still be friends
But I'll admit that I was glad it was over

But you didn't have to cut me off
Make it like it never happened and that we were nothing
And I don't even need your love
But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough
No you didn't have to stoop so low
Have your friends collect your records and then change your number
I guess that I don't need that though
Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Now you're just somebody that I used to know
Now you're just somebody that I used to know


Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over
Part of me believing it was always something that I'd done
But I don't wanna live that way
Reading into every word you say
You said that you could let it go
And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know


But you didn't have to cut me off
Make it like it never happened and that we were nothing
And I don't even need your love
But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough
And you didn't have to stoop so low
Have your friends collect your records and then change your number
I guess that I don't need that though
Now you're just somebody that I used to know


Somebody
(I used to know)
Somebody
(Now you're just somebody that I used to know)

(I used to know)
(That I used to know)
(I used to know)
Somebody

Credits to http://www.azlyrics.com for the lyrics.

Iron Fist

She was talking as if I was the only misfit in her life. For a long time now, I am already used to her endless ranting of how I should be the perfect person that she wants me to be. But I just can't be the person that she really wanted and I guess that disappointed her. When I was young, she would tend to compare me to those kids who achieved more than I could; her family tends to do that to "inspire" me to do better; however, it just wouldn't take its desired effect on me. Don't ask me why, it just wouldn't. When I was at the height of my rebellious stage, we used to fight a lot and it’s funny because it would usually start with a nag over cluttered things and curfew violations, too little things to make a big deal out of.

I don’t know how things were back in her time but, judging from the things that she tells and shows me; I like this era more than that of which she was born and raised and I would give up my life (literally) just to stay in my generation for reasons too many to mention. Families like the one that she has still embody the traditions of the "old" world. It isn't really bad once you're used to it and you'll learn a lot form it. I mean, a culture defines a person but I guess traditions and practices should fit into the kind of world that we are into right now. As they say, change is the only constant thing; so why not adapt to the changes that time brings instead of walking backwards? There are a lot of ways on how one should approach the youth of today without hurting, humiliating, provoking or outraging them (that is if you are only patient enough to find creative ways and that is if you'd go out of the box to figure them out). But I guess old habits are hard to break and I just cannot do something about it.

Some say; what you hated when you were a kid will be your practice when you're already a parent. If this is true, then I wouldn't want to become a parent someday. I hated the "Iron Fist" rule that the oldies practice. It imprisons, oppresses and discourages a person. In some instances, it hardens a person's heart, depresses a beautiful spirit, plants revenge, nourishes hatred and changes a personality. However, in most commendable cases; it cultivates a person, refines her virtues and implants principles making her a better individual. But c'mon! The youth of today is different. By that I mean the youth of today has a voice that you should and must hear. It is louder than a boom box and I just couldn't get the reason why you cannot hear it. If you are frustrated to the kind of youngsters that the world has today, it is twice as frustrating to us that you do not use your wisdom and years of experience to understand us! We seem to be a complex mathematical equation at first glance but when you look at it closely, we're just a simple problem you can solve with just a simple addition or subtraction.

What we are now, we owe it to you. So please do not blame us for our flaws and oddities! All of these have something to do with what you have said, shown and did when we were young. What we are now are reflections of your examples. And do you know what we really need? I hope you do but in case you don't, it’s never too late to see the things in our point of view and put your feet in our shoes.

Those That Kept, Keep and Will Keep Me Sane

I'll start things off by telling a random fact about myself.  I do not have a best friend (shocker? nah....). It's not because no one wanted to be one (maybe yes, maybe no) but because I chose not to have one. I have this idealism that if I have one, I'd be partially bias as a friend. There would be a ''favored" one among the bunch and because I was born under the zodiac sign Libra, I always strive for balance. It's no paper weight task but I want things fair. One might argue with me because of this piece of thought and I have one and only one thing to tell whomever it would be, MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS.

I can never understand how they could tolerate my nasty and bitchy persona.

When the road is rough and the going is tough, there are those that kept me from slipping into insanity. I owe these people for a lot of reasons and despite my ugly flaws, mood swings, foul mouth and everything in between, they've always been there when I needed a shoulder to cry on, a joke to laugh about and a thought to ponder on. The silence isn't awkward when I am with these folks and for every silent moment I am with them, it feels like it's the best intellectual and heart-felt conversation I had in a long time. You don't get to choose your friends. They're created the way they are so they could do your shitty attitude good. For that, I am truly grateful for having been blessed with the right people to keep me off the bad tracks and this is my way of saying thanks for keeping my sanity intact and for just being there. I really do appreciate even the little efforts they've done for me. That goes too for those whom I could count on anytime and anywhere and those who've made the wrong and haste choice of making friends with me (LOL).

A hug is worth a thousand words. A friend is worth more.

A friend is one who knows and loves you just the same
- Elbert Hubbard

And I guess every thanks is accompanied with a sorry so, I'll take this opportunity to apologize for every mean word or act that I said and did not only for the faces that I've placed in this blog but for all those who've considered me as a friend and for all those I've hurt and ignored. I won't deny the fact that there really are those times that dealing with someone like me is arduous, burdensome and extremely exhausting. I am also deeply sorry for those times that I have been insensitive and callous. Of course, I shall be grabbing this chance to warn you guys that it's still is a long way for us so if ever I become so delinquent and evil in the near future, I'm sorry.

We may not be the best palls before but thanks for putting up with me now. 

I remember someone told me I don't have friends (the real kind) because of my "attitude problem".  I don't know about her but at that moment, I can remember perfectly those faces that have been with me all these years. Take a heed when I say that it's hard being friends with someone like me; go ask these people. Yes, I can be very bossy and demanding and bitchy at times and yes, my honesty is sometimes masked with sarcasm and rudeness but what amazes me is the fact that despite all the mentioned ill traits of mine, there are still those that stood by me through thick and thin. And no matter how pestered they are about my temperaments and tantrums, they still manage to stretch that fine line of patience an extra mile for me. If they aren't "friends", then what could they be?

But friendship is a breathing rose, with sweets in every fold.
- Oliver Wendell Holmes

If you ask anyone in my family about my deepest, darkest secrets; perhaps they could never tell you one. I tend to be very secretive and private when it comes to things that I am not comfortable discussing. But whenever I'm with these people, my life is an open book. I can never keep a secret of mine. They know me too well to tell whether I'm down, I'm ecstatic, or if I'm having my monthly period. My true colors are exposed and the most private of my thoughts echoes in their ears. That's how confident I am in giving them my trust in as much as it is difficult for me to place that same confidence in men and strangers. Surprisingly; instead of shunning me away, they've accepted me just the way that I am. They're brutal honesty keeps my feet on the ground and when we have those serious talks, I find the world finally making sense to me.

Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.
- Albert Camus

Birds of the same feathers are the same birds right?

Some say that I'm being complacent when it comes to my friends. Well, I guess it's just the way that I am with those that I consider my "sistahs and brothas from another motha" (trying really hard with the African-American slang) and maybe that's one of the reasons why some people would take advantage of my gullible and naive moments aside from the fact that well, I have quite a glitch in my personality. But so far, none of them failed me (as far as I know). And if ever they did or if they ever will, know that I might get mad (as in really mad) and I might say or do hurtful things but there will always be a room for a talk and a resolution in coming clean (if you know what I mean). And since this thought is heading down the "fight" line, I think it's safe to say that it's normal for friends to have a little of those cat fights and battle scenes. I mean, it makes the whole friendship thing work and last. The fights are definitely worth it. It's risky but it's the only thing that makes you realize how worthy the other person is to you and it makes you feel how important he or she is to your existence (that is if you've really treated each other like real friends do but if not, then it's definitely a waste of time, effort and all that shit).

Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls bloom.
- Marcel Proust

It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

The bottom line is that finding a person or a clique that gets you is hard. It's even harder to make the ties and the bond grow stronger as the years go by especially when you've gone separate ways. Relating and understanding each personality is as chaotic as an urban jungle. But as I journeyed through the course of life, John Donne was right. "No man is an island by itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.." Somehow, there will always be a link between people. A link that knocks upon locked doors and intimidating facades. There are no alpha males or females for there will always be that extra  hand willing to reach out and pull you in the right place where being you is perfect and belonging is without any pressure. Therefore, true friends, no matter how hard you've searched the entire universe for one; is worth keeping. Keep them close, cherish them and hold them dear.

Bittersweet Misery

Falling in love is the easiest thing, staying in love is hard but letting go is perhaps the hardest. 

Fuck that shit. 

Okay. So, here I am dead tired of ranting and bashing around about how some asshole dumped me for a reason I think only jerks like him could ever think of. Finally, I'm done feeling sorry and feeling awful for what happened. I guess that's just the way it is eh? At some point in life, shit like this happens. SHIT HAPPENS. 

I've said this before and I'm going to say this again for re-emphasis. It's been really tough for me, really, really tough. This crazy shit is so fucked up that I can barely live my "normal" life. It's always him. If I see or hear or feel something, I'm always reminded of how I fell head over heels over some shady and I'm getting sick of it. I'm sick of always having to choke on my tears at night. I'm sick of biting my lips just so I can't say out loud that I miss him. I'm tired of having to find myself thinking, worrying, mooning over him. 

So now, I guess this is the phase where every woman has the right to be having an emotional outburst after the so-called break up or in my case, the drop-off. It's the perfect time to feel the bitterness and the angst towards the male species. It's this part of the relationSHIT; I mean relationship cycle where animosity, asperity and acrimony are wrapped up in a ball of fury aimed towards the male population. (Sorry guys) I won't elaborate more on that since I know that everyone (men and women, well women in general) has had their own share of experiences when one just can't let go, get over and get going and because I'm doing this on the fly. It's this time when you just cannot help but generalizing your judgment among men and the knot of pessimism towards them and towards intimate relationships with them keeps your drive to move on and deal with life. You are even intolerant of their antics, sweet talks and romantic gestures. The lines, "Been there, done that." and "I've heard that before." are commonly said to drive away men who by this time would do anything to take advantage; I mean, "rescue" a damsel in distress or at least that's how some ladies would put it. As for me? I'd rather say, "FUCK OFF YOU SON OF A BITCH!" (With conviction of course) Now, that will have a nice ring to it. One could really feel the distaste and the exasperation. 

I should have known. I knew better but I wasn't using my neurons. And as to how I succumb into this idiosyncrasy? I wish I could tell you how but at the moment, my mind's been really a messy piece of crap. I was right. You see, most men just do the talking. (MOST) The empty and shallow but flowery words that come out of their mouths are carefully crafted into luring a woman into the pit of devastation. They're great actors too. They’re too good to be true pretenders. They would start off nice and smooth, pretend they're madly in love with you, put their best fucking foot forward all the time but at the end of that long run, they'd eventually get bored and they'll just dump you in a dumpster after they're done with you like you're some trash. And because SOME men are by nature closely related to pigs, expect that they'd piss and shit on you before they drop you off that garbage bin. As if those weren't enough, they're sly liars too that even CIA's lie interrogation is no match to their insidious deceit. Wake up! There is no prince charming. They're all one and the same. Dickheads. 

Pardon my cynicism and my rude and derogatory words, but I guess my belligerence, brackishness and distrust among men is justified. After all, what I have been through and the men I have met and dealt with are my only concrete basis for me to say these things. But I guess the only delightful thing you get from this god-forsaken circumstance is the fact that as days goes by, the hurt and the bitterness make you stronger. You aren't the person you used to know. You'd learn how to stand after that great fall and that's something no one can take away from you. And what's more is that somehow, no matter how you make yourself believe that there is no redemption for men, there is still this unwavering anticipation that there is someone out there who's bound to change your mind. Ain't that a saccharine consolation? 

I Miss You and It Sucks

I went to bed early in the hopes that I could sleep early tonight. I have been having a hard time sleeping lately that I opted to take antihistamines just so I could drift into that dreamless slumber. But tonight, it isn't the case. For the past three and a half hours, I have been tossing and turning in my bed trying to get that comfortable position. I tried counting my imaginary herd of sheep, I did my night routines twice and I read a book just so I can somehow feel sleepy but to no avail; I am still widely awake.

The ticking of the clock starts to annoy me and the silence of the night is a demon that tempts me to think of you. I refuse to let the thoughts of you enter my mind. You have been plaguing my conscious, subconscious and unconscious being for days and I wanted to take a break. But no matter how I force myself to shut my mind and avoid thinking of you, the memories just keeps banging on the door. And so, I got my laptop, open that hidden folder where I kept photos of you, our archived conversations and the things that we've shared in the last couple of months. I don't know if what I'm doing is right or if it's healthy for me to take a look back at what was once a lovely time. Well, what the hell right? 

So, I opened that folder and looked at some of the photos of you I secretly took. I can't help but smile. You looked silly on some pictures, you looked mad at a couple of snapshots, some were taken when you were caught off guard, a few were taken with you having that rare smile, a handful were taken when you looked gaunt and exhausted and most of the images were taken when you were sleeping. You're not physically attractive but I got to give it to you when you sleep. You look so gentle. It's like seeing a sleeping giant. Formidable when awake but so fragile when asleep. It's that image of you that I would like to remember for the rest of my days. That image of you that made me want to take care of you through thick and thin and through all of your tantrums and foul mood swings.

The next thing I did was read our old conversation threads. After a couple of minutes and a couple of lines, I started to weep. I know it's silly to waste away tears over something which one cannot take back. It's stupid to shed tears over someone you know won't come back either. But I just can't help it. I looked insane while laughing, smiling and crying over some messages. I felt wrecked and hyped at the same time. Crazy right? But oh God! Everything came back to me. The first tinge of admiration, the laughter, the sweet smiles, the thoughtful ways, that first silly fight, the excitement, every single thing that made me so attached to you came back. And I'm reminded of the exact reason why I got out of my shell and gambled against the odds.

What a beautiful way to start something special but what a morose way to put an end to it. It could have been more than what we dreamed of. There could have been more. But the bets are off and I lost it all. I miss you. I miss you a lot. I miss you even more as time flies. And it sucks because I know there wouldn't be even a flicker of thought spared for me.

Drop-off

Just as I thought things were going to last and that everything is smooth sailing, I was awoken from what I thought was the reality.

These past few days were really tough on my emotional side. It's been really difficult having to plaster a smile everywhere I go and for everyone I know. The turmoil that is going on inside me is unbearable and it hinders me from having to go on with my life as if nothing happened.

See, I met this guy whom I thought was special not a long time ago. I didn't like him at first and talking to him was just so that I could kill time and boredom. It wasn't really the typical gal likes boy thing. However, as days passed by, I was caught up in something I never consider would happen to me. I am never a fan of love stories or love or anything of that matter. I've seen enough heartbreak, heard enough heartache that I lost my faith and trust with that love thing and decided that I would just play safe. But he was different. He was persistent and consistent. Two things I would really appreciate in a person, two qualities that I would fall for. And that was it! The once cold, insensitive and nonchalant heart gave up its defenses and let him took over.

The first few weeks were lovely. He wanted me to share everything with him, even the most trivial details of my daily routines. At first, it felt awkward and that it was silly for me to tell him every aspect of my life. The deepest, darkest secrets, the most intimate details, the foolish and selfish things, the evil and angelic thoughts, everything, was bared for him. And it wasn't easy since I don't make a habit of opening myself up for strangers like him. I also have a hard time finding confidence in trusting men due to some instances that made me doubt every man's nature and intention. But surprisingly, telling him everything is something I look forward to. He was interested in my rants, my habits, my thoughts that it made me feel special considering the fact that not many men are concerned with the color of my nail polish, the facial wash I use and the body lotion I rub in my skin at night. So, I not only denuded my entire life for him but I gave him a part of me that I couldn't give anyone else. I gave him my heart.

He was what I wanted. He was the kind of person that made me change my ways. He made me believe that things would work out fine and we can make it last. And for the first time, I had faith in love. Yet, things were too good to be true.

I woke up one day and he was gone. I still cannot accept the fact that there will no longer be a "him" in my life. He left me hanging and dropped me off like I'm some witless doll he's grown bored and tired of. It would have hurt less if he could have explained why things fell to pieces. However, there was none. Not even a lie. I don't know what went wrong or if I have done something to upset him or made him feel different. I can't seem to figure out why he has done such a repulsive act of selfishness.

I feel used, ignored and it's so painful that I am to go about living my life again after what happened. Sometimes, when the loneliness is too much for me to handle, I have the urge to call him, beg him for an explanation, and beg him to stay. But my pride tells me I've done so much already. What pains me more is the fact that he seems to be indifferent. He doesn't seem to care for me at all. I was so blind to see that before. I was so wrapped up in his sweet words and charming smiles that I forgot to think and be rational.

Now, I'm left here with nothing but this clawing ache that I feel inside. My every waking moment is spent in wondering how he has been, if he has eaten his lunch or if things are working well at the hospital and my every sleepless night is spent on tears that I wouldn't want anybody to see. I take comfort in over the counter antihistamines to just calm my senses and drift me to that dreamless slumber when the lonesomeness is a lethal poison at any given moment.

I wanted to get mad at him. Loathe him; curse him for what he has done. It was so condescending that sometimes I think I haven't given him the reason to stay. He trampled that part of me that I gave him, broke it into pieces and threw it away. All my efforts were gone to waste. I was a fool for letting him get through my skin. But I can't blame anyone. I brought this upon myself. But no matter how I force myself to feel the angst and be angry at him, there is still this part of me that wanted to love him and wait for him, a small yet strong part of me that wouldn't want to stop this insane wishful thinking that someday he'll come back and he'll stay for good.