Dear Friend,

Recently we’ve come clean about how we felt about each other. For me it seemed like a long overdue talk, and for you it seemed too soon, but I’m glad that somehow we finally stepped on the same plane. You see things as I do, and I see things as you do. However, why am I not happy about this arrangement? Why am I not entirely happy about what transpired between us? Until now, when you already know that I like you and I know that you like me, why can’t I still tell you how I really feel?

Yes, we know we like each other, but I don’t think you know just how much I like you. For some inexplicable reason, I feel like I’m on the deep end and you’re not. To be fair, my side of things has been going on for a longer time than yours. What you know is only the tip of the iceberg. You still can’t see how deep this whole thing goes.

I want you. I want us. I want there to be an us. So badly. But more than that, I want you to want us as much as I do. If not, it’ll just feel like I’m dragging you into this crazy ride because I think it’ll be fun while you’re entirely unsure about it. That won’t make me happy either.

I don’t know how deep your feelings run for me. Considering that they’re new, maybe it’s safe to assume that you don’t want this as much as I do. You don’t take the risks and laugh in its face like me. You’re not as bold to jump into this as I am, because I simply want this so much more than you do, and even though we both like each other, that statement in itself feels like a whole different rejection on its own.

I’m sorry for asking you if you weren’t ready. I’m sorry for pushing it when I shouldn’t have. I just had to hear your side. I needed to know, and I got my answer, but I still don’t feel satisfied. It’s an unsettling feeling and disappointing overall.

I don’t know. I feel stupid about how I dealt with this. Maybe it was too logical of an approach that it just seemed forced.  It’s complicated and I’m scared. I’m just trying so hard to make sense.

I wish I hadn’t said anything. I wish we could just go back to being us and being normal. I want to hold your hand if I feel like doing that. I want you to embrace me and know that it’s okay. I want to do all those things, but I don’t know if my heart can take it. This feels like breaking up and we were never even together.


March 29, 2013

I remember posting something before about having the need to apologize to the universe for not being good enough. This article from Thought Catalog is the perfect response to my less than appreciative post.

Thought Catalog

Recently, I heard someone say something so simple yet so profound: “When you hear something and then repeat it internally, you’re accepting it. Worse still, when you hear something and silently sit and don’t refute it, you are accepting it.”

It threw me at first. But then I remembered countless times wherein my silence meant a degree of acceptance.

In the third grade, I came home crying because a boy on the playground told me that my dream of becoming the first woman president would never happen because “Girls can’t be president.” While my 8-year-old brain clearly took in and deemed his faulty logic to be skewed, it still hurt. And I still knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that what he said was getting to me. Shaking my confidence. Telling me that I wasn’t good enough.

We truly are our own worst critics and enemies, aren’t we?

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March 19, 2013

I’m going to hold my breath until the term is over. I’m going to take the plunge and bury myself six feet under.

Breathing only makes me feel worse. Leisure is a crime. Complacency is a crime. Stillness is a crime. No matter what, I can’t stop moving.

Whenever I pause to take a second off, the waves come crashing down and water fills my lungs.

I’m struggling, I’m flailing…….

And then, there’s you. You’re probably stressed to the same level as I am. When we talk, it’s still about work, and I can’t take it. I talk to you to forget things like that, but we both can’t seem to let it go.

Twice you asked me to distract you, and twice, I think I have failed. Since when did I run out of things to talk about and just focus on work all the time? Since when?

Of course, I miss you. You had a rough day yesterday. Your plans might have not panned out like you thought they would. I’m sorry. I want to hear all about it, but maybe when you feel better, and when I feel better, too.

I hope you’re okay. I wish the same for me as well. We’ll get through this term. Like I said, you were right before, and I hope you’re right again now. We’ll be alright.

Make it good, hun.

Too bad

March 10, 2013

After not seeing you for two weeks (not counting when I caught a glimpse of you last… Monday?), and not talking to you properly since last Saturday (not counting our very short text exchange last Monday, too),  I decided to call you tonight. After five whole days of completely shutting ourselves off from one another (despite the promise I made last week), it all boiled down to this.

Called you once at 9.20.  You didn’t pick up. Thought you left your phone charging again and didn’t hear it. Decided to call back an hour later.

Called you back at 10:37. You did pick up.

We asked each other how the other was, and we pretty much had the same answer. Both of us were so busy — thesis, requirements, papers, classes, quizzes, etc. I understand. I was there. I’m guilty, too. I told you I still felt like I was drowning under all the work and pressure.

You said you wanted to tell me a whole lot more than you let on, but you couldn’t because you were doing your thesis. Apparently, you were sleeping over at your thesis mate’s to do some work. Oh, alright then. Uhm… Okay. There was a few seconds of awkward silence where I didn’t know what to do with myself. Maybe I should just leave then. Hang up? But we were barely talking for five minutes. It didn’t feel right. Anything that wasn’t our minimum three hour phone call quota didn’t feel right.

Then you offered that we could talk tomorrow, Sunday, but it was my turn to say no. It was my turn to sleep over and do my thesis. The timing of the world is just plain terrible.

I said it’s been quite a while since we’ve talked, and you agreed. You said like it seemed so long ago. A week is officially more than an eternity for us. Five days? Longer than it should have been. Longer than it actually is.

We were exchanging lines like “sayang”, “we have to talk”,  “gusto kong magkwento”, and somewhere in between I inserted, “I miss you na eh!” You replied with an adamant, “I know! Ako rin!”

We ended up not really saying much, except for the fact that we were both swamped up to the brim with school work. You thought that I was still in my academic-induced coma. You’re glad I’m still alive after all those days of silence.

I was kind of frustrated that tonight was the only night I sort of had off, and we still weren’t able to talk. Of all the things, something this simple couldn’t go like it was supposed to? Too bad. Honestly, too bad.

I decided that I shouldn’t keep you any longer, and so I decided to hang up. Before we did, it was,

“Alright, have fun with thesis.”
“I better! I hope so.”
“I miss you already!”
You laughed for a bit. “Same here.”
“See you soon! Bye!”

It’s so unfair though. Should I have still heard your voice for five minutes, when we wouldn’t be able to talk anyway? Give someone a good thing, then take it back oh so quickly. What word was that again? Oh, yeah, PAASA. Not you, okay, I meant the universe.

I remember during the break when one day of not talking to each other merited an eight hour encounter the following day. How much more these past several days, which most likely would turn into weeks? At the end of it all, would it be another super long bonding session, or will it be too late for any exchanges by then? Will too much have already happened that we just couldn’t bring ourselves to sit down and lay everything on the table? I hope not.

As much as I want to say that I shouldn’t let us drift apart or spend more than two days maximum without talking to each other, I can’t. I can’t promise that, because I know that I might not be able to do it in the long run. I’ll try to be as consistent as I can, but I will falter once a in a while, and I can’t have you being disappointed at that. I will get buried in work whether we like it or not, and I might not be able to talk or think about you even. I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll experience the same thing. I just hope that we can still be us when we do get breathers in between work.

I texted you that I was going on air the next day, so you could listen if you wanted to. I said I’ll make sure to give you a shout out. You replied that you still couldn’t believe how long it’s been since we last talked (perhaps since we last heard each other’s voices), and that you’ll try your best to tune in if you aren’t dead yet due to school work.

What got me hooked though, was the fact that you called me by my petname again. I haven’t called you by yours in a really long time. I thought we dropped those names a month ago. I thought we subconsciously agreed that they were too much. But you used it again, and that just sent me reeling in. It felt like I was still yours, and you were still mine, and we never left that one night when we walked around hand in hand for the first time.

I hate it when you call me that. It’s like all the space I’ve put between us suddenly vanished. I worked hard to get that space you know. Then again, I like it when you call me that, too, only because once the space vanishes, and I feel like I’m close to you again, I suddenly remember how much I miss being that way.

Thinking back on last night, I don’t really know why I said what I said.

Earlier that day, I was determined to break it off, to let you go a bit more, to stop caring as much, because it didn’t seem like you wanted me to stick around. It didn’t seem like you wanted to stick around me either.

Then later that night, you flip the tables. Well, you reacted the way I expected you to. You said goodbye, with all your dramatic flair, which I just deemed unnecessary. I expected some measure of letting go, but I didn’t expect goodbye. For me, it showed your lack of good faith. You talk as if we haven’t gone through anything together, like we haven’t made any memories, like it was all so easy to throw everything away, like we weren’t friends.

I was not going to stand for such bullshit. How dare you insinuate that I didn’t care about you? You selfish bastard. You don’t tell me things because you don’t want to involve me in your problems and drag me down with you? What the fuck? You need me to help you fix it. Don’t be so inconsiderate. Classic it’s not you, it’s me. Shut up.

You say that half of you wants to close yourself off from the world, to detach yourself from people, including me, because they simply do not give a damn about you and your problems. That half thinks it’s better to fix yourself first, by yourself, because no one wants to be friends with someone who’s broken and can’t deal with their own shit. The other half berates you for even thinking that, because that other half knows that somewhere along your life, you need to let people in once in a while. That other half knows that it’s okay to trust other people, because they help you heal.

I asked you, which side do you want? What kind of friend do you want me to be? The one that tolerates you and backs off when you want to close yourself off, or the one that pries and tries and shakes the sense out of you? You tell me you don’t know. You tell me you need both. Then you tell me that you don’t know again.

I asked you, why can’t you just be one kind of person? Why do you make it so difficult? Why do you refuse to let people in? You say that you’re not used to this. You’re not used to someone else other than your family giving a crap about you. Earth to you, that’s what friends are for. I’m sorry that you have major trust issues, and I’m sorry that maybe before, your friends didn’t think you were worth their time, but I’m saying, I keep telling you, that this time around, you have us,  you have me, and it will be different.

And so the night ended with me promising to stick around, whether you liked it or not. I reassured you multiple times that I do give a damn about you, and you can open up to me whenever you want about whatever you want because I will listen and I will care and I will give you advice if you need it. I will sympathize with you and not judge you for your decisions or mistakes. I promise to be your friend, if you would just let me in. Don’t push me away.

Things never go the way we expect to with us. Maybe that’s just me. I’m living the exact same situation, just two years later, from a different point of view. This time around, you’re me, and I’m you know who. Huh.

I realized that this whole friendship isn’t about me. It’s about you. I have to work harder to fix you, to show you it’s okay to trust other people. Why would I bother? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because despite what everybody else says, I think you’re worth keeping around.

Afterwards, we established the fact that our friendship is based on feelings of mutual hate and violence, of how you want to strangle me and how I want to stab you. We say this in jest, but some part of me knows it’s true. We find each other absolutely infuriating sometimes. It’s funny.

Then you told me twice that you’ll miss talking to me. Deep inside, I know you meant to say that you were going to miss me, but we’re off to a good start, and I’ll take what I can get. I returned the sentiment. I said I’ll miss talking to you, too, but I hope you soon realize that we both don’t have to.

The routine

January 10, 2013

Everyday, I find the need to apologize to myself and to the universe.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be prettier.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be skinnier.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be smarter.

I’m sorry.

Back at square one

December 2, 2012

Dear friend,

Do you ever get the feeling that you’re in the same dilemma, just at another time and in another place, involving  different people? If you’ve really learned from previous situations, why do you constantly find yourself stuck in the same predicament? You’re encountering the same exact problem, just two years later.

Dear friend, aren’t you tired?

Dear friend,

Sometimes (now is one of those times), I wish I could just delete your name and number from my mind, and be over and done with matters… with you. Sometimes, I really do believe I’m better off without you, better off if we’ve never met, better off without me having to feel this way.

Dear friend, why does it have to be like this?

Dear friend,

You always  make me feel as if I’m nothing special, like I’m a speck of dust, like I’m mundane, easy to get, easy to please, easy to replace. It’s you and me today, and another person tomorrow. It’s a futile cycle that I can’t wait to intercept and just stop. Perhaps I should start now.

Dear friend, what are we even doing wasting our time?

Dear friend,

We both know that you and I are better off doing other more productive things instead of harboring all this negative energy. As rational, selfish, and self-righteous human beings, we should do just that. We should use our heads for once and do something we should not regret.

Dear friend, is that so hard?

Dear friend,

As much as I want this to last, at the end of the day, it’s nothing but exasperating and downright ridiculous. You don’t see it, but I do, because I’ve been down this road before, and I know how it’s going to end. Maybe it’s the sleep and the hormones talking, but I don’t want to end this day with the decision that tomorrow will start out and play out exactly like today, and so by tomorrow night, I’ll end up feeling the exact same thing as right now, and I’ll be faced with the exact same decision that I chose to succumb to tonight.

Dear friend, I can only hope that I don’t regret anything in the morning.

Dear friend,

You have no idea how uplifting yet exhausting you could be sometimes. Does it have to be this difficult? Do you have to be this difficult? I can’t believe I’m still thinking about this.

Dear friend, when will it all just stop?

4 am

November 2, 2012

It’s 3:43 am. I guess my sleeping pattern/body clock’s fucked up again. So much for waking up at a uniform time for work. Gotta have that fixed.

Also, I’m getting the urge to paint my nails.

What would it be like to see things differently? To not live in a little box, concerned with only me? What would it be like to legitimately care about someone else? What would it be like putting another person’s interest before yours?

I’ve said it before, and I’ve said it again, I am a selfish person. My parents made it clear, I made it clear, my life has made it clear.

I can’t imagine how people would want to be with a selfish person. That’s just horrible.


October 1, 2012

It’s been a while since I’ve felt like running away and disappearing, but lately, I’ve been feeling just so anti-social. Maybe it’s because it’s that time of the month again, but I can’t really be sure.

At one point, I thought about the fear people have of becoming sober. I’m beginning to understand it: why people prefer to be drunk to feel numb rather than get a full grasp of reality. Things are always lighter with alcohol. Things always feel better when you can’t stop laughing because you can’t feel your face. Sometimes not feeling anything makes you feel good.

On another note, there’s news spiraling everywhere about the anti-cybercrime law. To be honest, I’m not too familiar with it. I haven’t read it’s clauses, provisions, sanctions, and whatnot. I don’t like reading laws, especially when they’re intentionally written in a matter that’s too complicated to understand. I suppose that this thing is an impending threat, giving privacy away and all, but the internet is a huge place. It’s as huge as the world, and maybe, just like anything in real life, that law everybody’s so angry about will pass and be forgotten in the long run. Nothing’s gonna change my world. Nothing’s gonna change my world. Now those last two sentences I took from Across the Universe by The Beatles. No one better sue me.

I have a photoshoot in ten hours for the yearbook, and I cannot, in heaven’s name, find the stub I need to present at the pictorial. It’s really frustrating, but I’m too sleepy to actually look for it. Let’s see what happens 6 hours later. Maybe I’ll have better luck.

My better judgment

September 9, 2012

It bothers me when I have to post something on twitter, but I can’t because it’s NSFW.

So maybe I’ll just say it here.

For ****:

Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here’s my number….

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