Overweight. Overwait.

You lose what you don’t want to,

retain what you want to be rid of.

You wait and feel the weight.

You weigh if it’s worth the wait.

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image from POSTSECRET

Same Old. Same Ode.

Because what happened is happening,

And I already saw what I’m seeing.

I helplessly felt what I’m feeling.

I’m bound for the same old ending.

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image from Tumblr

The Imagined

"It felt so real.", you ponder. 

Your feeling? Oh, it is real. Sometimes your mind can trick you into believing that you’ve already given everything and done anything to show how much you like a person only to realize that your exhaustion comes not from doing but from mere thinking. 

That after experiencing this imagined but elaborate pseudo-reality where you have allowed yourself to finally free-fall, you open your eyes and remember that you're still alone... or that he was never there. 

It's time to wake up. Enough is enough.

Decluttering Cluttered Thoughts

image from ThingsWeForget

"So just live, make mistakes, and have wonderful times. But never ever second guess who you are, where you have been, and most importantly, where it is that you are going." - Sex and the City

The Checklist

Last night, my friends and I got into a discussion of how we picture our significant others to be. What would s/he be like? What qualities do we expect them to have that will endear them to us? My answer was simple; he would be someone whom I respect enough to consider his opinion – not exactly to follow what he said but to at least think about my decision in consideration of his stand. That is a big deal for someone who has been making her own decisions for herself all her life. I admittedly cannot change my innate stubbornness anymore, but to have the willingness to consider someone else’s opinion is, at least for me, already a big leap.

Abby told me that my attitude can be quite deceiving. That at first glance or encounter, I would not seem to be intimidating when in reality, I could be quite domineering and controlling. I jokingly declared that this only affirms my inking that I can sometimes be a scheming bitch. Anyway, this whole discussion got me into thinking of how we sometimes allow ourselves to mentally write a checklist of the characteristics of our elusive “The One” not to fully tick every single box but to test who will be worthy enough to make us forget about this checklist.  

We are actually in search of someone who will unknowingly allow us to go beyond our standards because s/he is worth it.

Manifestations of Unconditional Love

Another question that came up was as to how we envision unconditional love as manifested in our everyday interactions. My answer was this, “Unconditional love is someone’s ability to look at me and know that something’s wrong, and without saying a word, taking the time to hug me (preferably from behind) as a silent assurance that everything will be all right and that he will be there to try to protect me.” He will be my constant - the remaining orderly thing in the mess that is my life.

One of my guy friends said that it is easier for women to have an idea of how love is manifested because women are more capable of unconditional love compared to men. I was baffled by this revelation because I have always believed that anyone should be as capable as another in terms of this universal concept that is love. But he explained that with women, it would seem like we are more programmed to love without expecting anything in return. I tried to think about how this has come about and can only come up with one explanation – we are more able to handle loving someone from afar because the society has taught us to not act on our feelings and wait until the man confirms that the feeling is mutual. We are more capable of loving unconditionally because we are able to show our love albeit discreetly without giving away our true feelings.  Society screwed us up.

Sometimes I regret not being able to aggressively pursue the men I like… not that I have not done that in the past, back when I was more carefree and was more ready to feel pain, back when I really had nothing to lose but time. I was fearless because I thought I can afford to lose time. I did not fully understand the concept of time being “of the essence.”

On Being ‘OUT THERE’

"And I'm worried...I, I'm afraid that he took away my ability to believe. And I hate him for that. Because I always believed before. And now I just feel...lost. And I am, I'm trying to put myself out there, but... I feel hopeless." - Sex and the City

“I did not expect you to be a girly girl.” my friend taunted me, when I expressed that at present, I am more inclined to wait it out than actively pursue anyone. I guess it all stems from my evaluation of how I have played the game since time immemorial. Nobody can say that I was not out there because I was, I REALLY was. I have put myself out there, played the part of a journeying romantic, had my heart broken over and over again to find love - only to be stuck in the same place that I was when I started. It has obviously not worked for me. But this is what I have learned – ‘Love has no specific formula and no amount of thinking can ever solve this illogical puzzle.’

But in the end, it will make sense. I need to believe that it will.

Just Love.

Sometimes, all you need to do is listen to your heart. How many times have you met a stranger and felt that your heart has suddenly skipped a beat? How many times have you shared a cigarette break with a newfound friend and felt your heart scream, “This feels right!”? All people need to do is to listen to their heart more intently, to be more attentive to their irrational self to understand that love, really, is all around.

Because at the end of the day, the biggest question that needs to be answered is this, “What are you so fucking afraid of?”  It’s not like you are shielding yourself from pain when you avoid loving.  Just let go and love with abandon.  Without regard for the past but with high hopes for the future. Just love.  It’s alright to be scared but what should scare you the most is the realization that you have let another opportunity pass you by without even trying. 

I dare you to move.

Ang Pagtingala

Ikaw na hinihintay ko pa,

Hinahanap nanaman kita, katulad ng maraming mga gabi na ramdam na ramdam ko ang pag-iisa. Katulad ng maraming mga pagkakataon na hinihiling kong sana nandito ka na. Minsan may mga oras na hindi ko maintindihan kung paanong naiisip pa kita habang pinapaligiran naman ako ng lahat ng bagay at taong masasaya. Na kahit ilang beses akong tumawa, ang isip at lalong ang puso ko ay sumisigaw na ang lungkot lungkot na.

Sana balang araw masabi ko sayo kung gaano kahirap na wala ka at maiintindihan mo kung bakit ipinagdasal ko na dumating ka na. Gusto ko na sanang maramdamang katanggap tanggap ding maging mahina. Gusto kong marinig mula sayo ang kasiguraduhan na kapag ayoko nang magpatawa ay ikaw naman ang pipilit sa aking tumawa, na kapag pinagsisigawan kong kaya kong mag-isa ay mas ipagpipilitan mong maging kasama ka.  

Hindi na ako makapaghintay na makilala ka. Dahil alam ko na kapag naiiwan akong maglakad habang nagkukwentuhan tayo ay patago mong babagalan ang lakad mo para makasabay kita.Dahil alam ko na kapag ginagampanan ko ang responsibilidad na magpasaya ng iba ay mahahagip parin ng mga mata mo ang lungkot sa aking mata at sasabihin mo sa akin na tigilan ko na. Dahil kapag naramdaman mo na natatakot akong mahalin ka ay ikaw na mismo ang magbabalot ng mga kamay ko sa iyong palad para muling ipaalala na hinding-hindi ka na bibitaw pa. Dahil bawat detalye ng araw ko ay mananabik kang bigyang halaga at hindi mo hahayaan na sa pag-ibig mo ay may mamuo pang kahit anong duda. Dahil kapag sa pakiramdam ko ay mas marami pa sanang iba ay matapang mong ipapagsigawan sa mundo na, “Nagpursigi rin akong mahanap ka.”

Gusto kong malaman mo na handa na akong mahalin ka. Gusto kong malaman mo na ang pagmamahal na inipon ko sa puso ko ay pagmamahal na handang walang pag-aalinlangan na magpaubaya. Kahit ilang bituin pa ang kailangan kong hintayin at kahit ilang hiling pa ang kailangang hilingin – hindi ako magsasawang tumingala.

Ikaw ang natitirang permanenteng pangarap ko. Ikaw ang magpapahalaga ng mahalagang buhay ko.

Naghihintay,

Ako

Of Self Worth and Being Your Own Number One Fan

image from Tumblr

“You always act like you don’t deserve to be loved, or even be liked by the other person. Hence, the pep talk.”

It struck a chord in the guitar that is my heart. Looking back at how my (non)romantic life has taken shape through the years, I must say that I have always had very low self esteem in terms of loving and more importantly, in terms of being loved by another. I don’t exactly know when and how it happened, I may have an inkling why, but I always find myself believing that I have fallen for someone out of my league. It may be a question of not knowing my self worth, or the challenge of fully believing in my capability to make someone fall head over heels in love with me, but every time I begin to acknowledge that I might be falling for someone, I get scared.

How can one not be scared, really? Knowing that when you love, you should be able to share yourself to the other with the hope that what you share can be deemed valuable is such an overwhelming thought. If you really know me, you know that when I love, I love with everything I have, sometimes forgetting that pain should not be a constant. What am I trying to make up for?

It could be because I have tried almost every possible way to find love. I have experienced subtle, passive and even full on rejection and sometimes, I am on the verge of believing that I will never find him. I am trying to make up for my wrong choices, my lapses in judgment and the fear that my wounded heart can never be healed again. I am making up for the possibility that I might have emotionally disabled myself.

People can be too hard on themselves. I know I am. I tend to always look inward when something goes wrong and I don’t see anything wrong with it. I think everyone should. I’d like to think that I am always partly responsible, if not fully, for whatever has befallen me up to this point. However, the Facebook timeline reminded me that beyond my failures, I am in a way better place now than where I was months, years or even decades ago.

I have come too far to survive life and there is nothing wrong with accepting that I am worth it, that I deserve to love and be loved in return. If I can commit to being someone’s number one fan, I do not see why no one will find it worthy to make the same commitment to me and for me.  Anything less than “I believe in you.” can no longer be good enough.

During a cab ride home, my friend asked me, “I don’t understand why I can’t seem to find him. I know I have so much to offer.” I didn’t know why, at that time, but now I know.

Maybe it’s not about finding him anymore but about believing that somewhere, someone is also trying to find you. That if with some inexplicable magic, you find yourself bumping into that person, you’ll realize that he recognizes you, because you are what he’s been praying for and dreaming of, too. Maybe it’s about knowing that if someone finally finds you, he is the luckiest person on earth.  

Maybe it’s less about finding someone but more about finding yourself.

 

The Honor in Pain

image from ThingsWeForget

“I wake up, feeling nothing. At one point, I was looking forward to seeing him with another woman so I can feel again, but when I did, that thing that I was scared of happened. I felt nothing.” (7 September 2011)


Last night, after a wonderfully challenging Quiz Night in Capricciosa, Greenbelt 3, three of my friends and I opted to end the night with a round of alcohol. Yes, we do one rounds, surprisingly and we are capable of doing a post game analysis of a Quiz Night pretty well, too. Naturally, after what seemed like a never ending round of jokes oozing with sarcasm and a plan to organize THE party of the century, we got into a discussion of our mutual status of WALANG WALA (totally nothing). It all started with a realization of my and another friend’s inability to write again. If you know me, you will understand the frustration that I am feeling for being unable to write anything. I am pretty passionate about capturing raw emotions and writing about them in my blog. I feel that through that exercise, I am able to treasure extraordinary memories so I can look back someday with a contented look in my eyes.

Something must be wrong. A Eunice that does not feel is not the real Eunice. I am able to extract feelings by merely looking at a stupid chair, how can I not feel anything about something?

I have been wondering for the past months about what state I am currently in. I’ve been running around this city and a few cities outside, doing everything and nothing. I go home late, feeling happy about what I have accomplished and drifting to sleep with a smile on my face. Yet, when I wake up, I feel that nagging feeling of emptiness. It’s like I am complete but someone or something has taken away a part of me that I can never get back. Then I get dressed and that fleeting feeling of emptiness disappears, magically and alarmingly.

Then, Kris Aquino dragged me to hell, err reality. While I was preparing to go to work this morning, I was half watching, half deciding what to wear, when Melissa Ricks began to talk about her breakup with her long term non-boyfriend who recently announced that the breakup was mutual only to be refuted by Melissa’s silence when asked to confirm that declaration. Kris said, and I quote, “Boy always tells me that you have to honor your pain.”

CRAP. You have to honor your pain. And just like that, everything became clear. It actually is true. Although the happiness that I feel with the people I spend my time with, I believe, is genuine –and I’d like to think that their happiness is, too… almost all of us are actually in pain. We talk about it, jokingly, sometimes with a hint of wisdom but we never really dwell on them. May it be the pain of not being able to love, to the pain of not being loved back, the pain of doing something that you’d rather not do, the pain of not doing anything, the pain of doing everything and not being recognized for your everything - we all are in different levels and categories of pain.

We are not honoring our pain. We are looking past them, like they are informal settlers being concealed by pretentious colorful walls along a main highway. We know they exist but we’d rather ignore them because honestly, it scares the shit out of us.

I remember writing about living with pain and I said, “One thing I learned about living is that, “Pain is inevitable.” The moment you are able to come to terms with that, you realize that pain, really, is just a wonderful front act. You get hurt, once in a while, with some periods more painful than the others.”

Therefore, I take it back, once in a while, you have to let pain get to you. You have to sometimes honor your pain, dwell on your weakness and allow others to be strong for you, instead. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have anything to look forward to.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again –“Live with pain but don’t live IN it.” Honor your pain so you can honor happiness more. A real victory is not won from beginning to end. A real victory is being hurt, injured, and scarred for most of the battle but emerging as the survivor. A real victory takes away everything from you only to give back everything and so much more.

A real victory honors pain but lives through it so stories may be told and memories may be passed on. A real victory looks at pain through its mocking eyes and says to its face, “I honor you but, bring it on, motherfucker.”

I Got You

One night, I promised I’d someday write about you, and tonight, I shall keep that promise.

I have an inkling of how you feel. I see in your eyes what I used to see when I look at my reflection in the mirror. I see longing, I see grief, and most importantly, I see a lack of understanding. How can it hurt so much and when did it start to hurt this much?

You don’t know what hit you. One moment, you are busy enjoying your time together and the next, you become aware of what particular things you love about that time. Then, you love.

That isn’t the problem. The problem is that she doesn’t love you back, at least not in the same perspective that you love her.  You swear, no one will ever love her the way that you love her, but it’s not enough. It will never be enough.

If only you can freeze time and hold that scene that constantly haunts your dream. The scene where you held her hand, looked into her eyes and she did not let go – of your hand and of your eyes.

You know that every step that she makes on that fateful day will be one step away from you.

I kept my promise because I am inclined to make another one.

I promise that you will be fine.  It will hurt, it will feel like it can last a lifetime, but it won’t. And you will love again. It is true, nothing will ever compare to her but I assure you that every time you love, it is a love that is incomparable.

In the meantime, I will be there to hold your hand and remind you that someday, everything will be worth it.

I will never let go. I got you. 

The Throat

The Dream Sequence

I remember when I was in grade school, I would dream of prom night as some kind of a panacea. I imagined myself to be dramatically transformed into a swan from being the ugly duckling that is my normal self. I’d dream of being asked out to be someone’s date, of slow dancing and of an innocent good night kiss that will become the topic of a month long conversation with my girl friends, making a blow by blow analysis of what transpired that night and of how I was swept off my feet by my date. Then it didn’t happen. I, as a consolation prize, won the In Full Bloom award, affirming my inkling that nobody expected me to be extraordinarily pretty.

So I started dreaming of college – of how I’ll meet a ruggedly handsome artist who will blow me away with his eccentric ideas. I vowed to be fashionably unique, oozing with self confidence that no one would dare question how much of a girlfriend material I was. In my mind, and maybe, in my heart, I knew that if I finally find him, he would have no choice but to acknowledge that I was the one. Then it sort of happened. I found a lot of guys who resembled ‘him’ – the one. Only, they all turned out to be nothing more but segments of my serial dating. Yes, a lot of them were artists, but no, they did not blow me away, except that there might have been a handful who inadvertently tricked me into taking the leap. I fell for the sinfully cliché prototypes – the jock, the artist and the best friend. These fleeting amorous adventures unfolded into open ended romantic comedies that left me with no other choice but to dream again.

Naturally, I dreamt of law school. Because, really, who would not fall in love with someone who can just sit with you the whole day, inside the library, inside the coffee shop, or inside ‘God knows what place’, reading in silence without feeling like it’s been too long since you last talked? I told myself, if I cannot make someone fall in love with me this way, I cannot make someone fall in love with me. And you guessed it right, no one fell (By no one I mean someone whom I cannot seem to find in my heart to fall for and well, that simple and basic definition of no one that is NONE since I was busy falling in love with someone who was busy falling in love with someone else.)

 I became a lawyer and to put it bluntly, for a time, I could not seem to find it in my heart to dream again.

At one point, one would expect me to be broken; licking my badly wounded heart to at least make it beat decently, and perhaps, that could have been the logical expectation. Only, I realized that I need not be logical about love. I still want to dream of magic and madness and everything that comes between logical and stable love and head over heels, ‘ Hell, I will die for you’ love. I guess the only way for the dream to continue is for one to live the dream.

I am living it. I owe it to my puppy-eyed self in grade school, to my ‘I want to be swept off my feet’ self in high school, to my ‘ready when you are’ self in college, to my ‘I want to be still with someone’ self in law school – and most importantly, to my ‘I have been waiting for you all my life’ self when I finally find him. A series of heartbreaks is a minor detail. The major detail is this: LOVE IS WORTH IT.

No matter how long it takes. No matter how hard it gets.  I am ready.

The Corner of Wonder

‎


We'll always have our corner-
where our dreams meet and people wonder how 
we can still be there 
without wondering.


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image from Poor Artists

I Write.

I could be writing this for you. I remember how I looked at you from afar with a stare that could make the hardest and most stubborn of metals melt, only to look away during that split second that allows our eyes to meet.

 I see you, clearly, you never see me.

There are times when I would allow my mind and my heart to wander into the possibility that is you and me… where your hand will not only hold mine but will keep it entwined with yours. Where you will keep me still through a grip that says it all -

"I will never let go."

We say a lot of words but we never really talk. Words come easy, and there are nights that seem to go on forever. Topic after topic, we wonder and wander through silly things, deeper things, but never through our feelings. I dream of you, not the teeny-bopper daydreaming. It's the kind that pierces through my heart that not only skips a beat but stops when confronted with the possibility that it’s you. It could be you.

And then there’s that problem, it’s so minute that I tend to purposely forget. We are nearing the end, way before we even start.

I could be writing this for you… If only you will stay or at least say, or promise me that fateful day When I don’t have to perpetually weigh.

 I am writing this for you.

For everything that’s been left unsaid, for sweet-nothings that have become everything, for silly non-fights, and childish banters… for future goodbyes and occasional bittersweet hi’s. For everything that we shared, for emotions we couldn’t share, for the fun times and for the awkward times…

Don’t just not forget but remember, I wrote this for you.

Just so I can remember… that this could be a prelude to never or forever.

#Photords #introvertmindextrovertheart #LegallyBlunt #Photography #blackandwhitephotography #BlackAndWhite #photooftheday #Poetry #TheStalkerPicsSeries #LegallyBlunt #LegallyGrunt #RealityEverAfter #writersofinstagram #buttonpoetry #listen #findyourvoice #instapoet #shortform #instapoetry 

Hitch: Basic Principles

"... no woman wakes up saying "God, I hope I don't get swept off my feet today!" Now, she might say "This is a really bad time for me," or something like "I just need some space," or my personal favorite "I'm really into my career right now." You believe that? Neither does she.

You know why? 'Cause she's lying to you, that's why. You understand me? Lying! It's not a bad time for her. She doesn't need any space. And she may be into her career, but what she's really saying is "Uh, get away from me now," or possibly "Try harder, stupid," but which one is it? 60% of all human communication is nonverbal, body language; 30% is your tone, so that means 90% of what you're saying ain't coming out of your mouth. Of course she's going to lie to you! She's a nice person! She doesn't want to hurt your feelings!

What else she going to say? She doesn't even know you... yet. Luckily, the fact is that just like the rest of us, even a beautiful woman doesn't know what she wants until she sees it, and that's where I come in. My job is to open her eyes. Basic Principles - no matter what, no matter when, no matter who... any man has a chance to sweep any woman off her feet; he just needs the right broom."

-HITCH

On Emotional Diabetes, Regrets and Star Stuff

"The need for love is akin to emotional diabetes. Who needs another when you can produce insulin yourself?"

-Pao Soriano

Last night was supposed to be “SAKITAN NIGHT”, an event that happens every Monday in Good Earth Roasts, Rockwell with my closest friends in law school, just because a live band plays emo songs and we are reminded of our stupid mistakes in the past. True to its form, there were painful moments, especially when you are put on the hot seat and are made to realize that you’ve been doing it all wrong. With some twist of fate, Paopao, my source of joy in law school, was in the area, and he became our very able guest for the night. In the words of Jason, he was our “neutral”, especially because they’ve decided to dub me as the negative thinker and they, with much protest from me, are the optimistic ones.

I don’t know if it was the alcohol (which I would assume, Joan and Paopao will not agree with since they only consumed sugar), or the fact that we, once in a while, long for meaningful conversations that hit the spot, but hell we were talk show productive. We started with the question, “When did you realize that you are smarter than the others?” went on discussing more mundane stuff like using the statement, “Then he inserted his manhood to her pussy vagina vulva.” in answering the bar exam, and enthusiastically discussed the question, “Can you live with the possibility that you will, in fact, die alone?” The consensus was that it’s okay to be alone, it’s just hard to accept that in your moment of death, no one will be there to celebrate the life that you thought you lived. Paopao was envy-worthy, always the sound one and always reminding us of how we should ideally live. He didn’t care about being alone, was oblivious of the fact that he is smarter than a lot of us, and cannot seem to grasp our positive answer to the question, “Despite our celebration of singlehood, if somebody comes along, would you be willing to love?”

I mean, I’ve always believed in the mantra that “I am happy now, but I know I can be happier in the future.” But he challenges my stand by asking, “But if you are happy now? Why does happy have to compete with happier?” Then he concluded that it would seem like I live on being goal-oriented and that if there is no goal, there is no point in living. I wholeheartedly agree. And it boils down to human want, our nature to want more after getting one thing, the testimony to the toast, “May you get everything you want, except for one, so that you’ll still have something to look forward to.”

Then there was the question of, “Do you attribute who you are now to fate or decision?” We were united in saying that of course, it was us. There was that turning point, when you decided, “This is how I will live my life.” And the rest, as they say, is history.

Then we got to that never outdated issue that is LOVE. It was inevitable, really, I mean, most of the bad decisions that we’ve made are relationships-wise. We’ve gotten everything we’ve hoped for already (except for financial freedom… but we’re getting there too.), and with love, we just can’t fucking seem to get it right. Paopao asked, “Would you rather that you don’t need food? Or that you need it, but you can enjoy eating it in the process?” And I said, ideally, you don’t want to need anything. Self-sufficiency is the perfect scenario. But that is not to say, that maybe, enjoying eating is so much worth being needy for. Oh and then we got to discuss the hierarchy of our basic needs and got stopped with the dilemma of which is higher, the need for clothing or the need for sex? Because admittedly, one need can be enjoyed without the other, right? :D

So everything has been open-ended, except for the acceptance that we all are star stuff, or in the context of Big Bang Theory, we all are made of nuclear waste and sooner or later, we will have to face the need to explode. What needs to be done is to stop welcoming misery-generating things in our lives. Stop being in a situation that will create regret.

Our fear of denial is stopping us from knowing and having the opportunity to move on. We’d rather be turned down than spend our whole lives thinking of what might have been. Being passive aggressive didn’t work the first, second and nth time, it will not work now. Just do it. Or err, do him. No day but today. And when you get turned down, you don’t turn back. You smile, shrug your shoulders and carry on, because “We are young. Heartache to heartache we stand. No promises, no demand. LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD.”

Seriously, at the end of the day, you just want to be with people whom you can share bad ass conversations with, laugh about life with and will accept you, no matter what your cup size is. Believe us, Katy Perry has it right when she said, “No regrets. Just Love.”

The Blooming with(out) You

So, let me be resigned

With this path of happiness

That does not need

You

Who break my heart

Everytime you can.

It cannot break anymore

For you and with you.

It refuses to.

Take your flowers
with you. Like our love,
it will never bloom, too.

ANO RAW?

Friend: E kayo, kelan kayo magpapakasal ng boyfriend mo?
Girl: Ewan ko ba dun. Sabi nya pag hindi raw nag end of the world ng 2012.
Friend: Paano kung nag-end of the world?
Girl: Edi wala. End of the world na diba?

ANG LABO!

Overheard in Agave, Serendra

SOMETHING BORROWED: A Discussion

"We need to discuss."

That was the definite conclusion that we all came up with after watching the very divisive movie that is Something Borrowed. We can outline it into a number of chapters, in my mind the issues at hand are the following:

1. Is he or is he not into you.
2. Would you REALLY fall for your best friend’s guy?
3. Should a girl tell a guy how she feels at the risk of being too aggressive?
4. Should you fall for a really good friend at the risk of losing the friendship?

Let’s start with issue number one…

CHAPTER ONE

Is he or is he not into you? A.K.A. It shouldn’t be that hard to figure out.

“I didn't think someone like you could like someone like me,” -Rachel, Something Borrowed

We’ve seen it happen a million of times before. You spend time with a person, really have fun and spend those precious moments before you sleep, thinking, “Hey, he could really be into me too!” But that only consumes a few minutes, heck, a few seconds of your thinking time. For the rest of the night, you over exhaust yourself rationalizing and keeping your feet, and your heart pretty grounded. You start to think of reasons why he can’t like you. I mean, for a logical and emotionally beaten up person, you can think of an infinitely many reasons why he is only being a friend. Plus, this whole self esteem issue just can’t be shaken off, completely. I mean, for a woman lawyer, it is true that we have such high standards. Although we’d always dismiss this hypothesis by saying that we only want to end up with a decent guy, how we define this decent guy is a totally different story.

So, that’s where the problem starts, for someone who has high standards, we rarely get attracted to regular guys, and these non-regular guys, we feel, may be out of our league.  When we feel a connection, or when we feel that it may be safe to start assuming that there could be mutual attraction, you can depend on the fact that we have already jumped the gun by being our suspicious selves. We work hard to be THE GOOD FRIEND. Yes, we find safety in that not-so-comfortable net that is being in the FRIEND ZONE.

Then, a hot girl comes along, the fun, free-spirited one - she may be a friend, an acquaintance who just happens to be there to constantly remind us geeks that well, our guy can do better. I will let you in on a little secret - we also are easily discouraged. When we feel that the object of our affection has turned his attention to a hot woman, even for a millisecond, we act like it’s absolutely okay, like we never are offended or hurt – but believe you me, hell breaks loose in our hearts and minds. That’s when we start withdrawing ourselves from the conversation and let the hotter woman take center stage. We can be the most competitive bunch in a legal court, but we are such sissies in that court that is ruled by the heart.

Then we let it pass. We move on thinking that it was not worth fighting for in the first place. I mean, really, wouldn’t a guy do everything, and I mean everything to make the woman that he likes know that he likes her? There shouldn’t be any “Are you okay with this?”-like questions. If he really liked me, and even if I let him talk freely with the hotter girl, he should have reached for my hand to at least assure me that it is me whom he’d want to talk with. He should have sat beside me and poured all his attention on me, despite the hotter girl’s persistence.

In the ideal world, I guess. 

This is why you should never, ever get your hopes up. This is why you should see the glass as half empty. So when the whole thing spills, you aren’t as devastated."— Emily Giffin (Something Borrowed)

-To be continued-

The Proposal

And without any word, he knelt with one knee,

Offering what would seem like an engagement

Ring to the one he loves. His eyes, shining

With tears and his lips, quivering

In anticipation of her uncertain reply.

“I love you, please let me love you more.”
She took the ring, looked into the eyes

of the boy who has turned into a man

right before her very eyes and said,

“Ang arte  mo.”

He knew. It

was her answer

to his non-question.

Of Turning Tables, Eleven Minutes and Breakfast at Tiffany's

Keeping passion at bay or surrendering blindly to it – which of these two attitudes is the least destructive? I don’t know.

-Eleven Minutes

Let me talk about that thin line between being insensitive and careful. When I was younger, I must say that I did not have restraint. I will assume wholeheartedly, fall in love fully, and get my heart broken carelessly. But that’s just it, right? In the end, I realized that you break your heart when you’re careless, when you do not protect yourself above all, and when you allow yourself to freefall, not knowing what lies beneath.

What do they expect? Having chosen adventure, shouldn’t they be prepared to go the whole way? Or do they think that the intelligent thing to do would be to avoid the ups and downs and spend all their time on a carousel, going round and round on the spot?

-Eleven Minutes

Through the years, I have learned the art of being suspicious, of finding the security of friendship and companionship more logical to seek over wild and no holds barred love, and have mastered the game of not giving meaning to things that in the past might happily make me jump into the conclusion that someone is into me. I have, at present, acquired the label of being insensitive, or more appropriately, of being “manhid.” I don’t mind, really. It’s more peaceful this way. Yet, there is a catch. Look where it got me. It may be summed up with one statement that has been a constant running joke in our wee hour conversations, and drinking sprees, “Sinong mag-isa ngayon?”

You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness." You call yourself a free spirit, a "wild thing," and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.  -Breakfast at Tiffany’s

So now, I am at a crossroad. I don’t think I can ever go back to being careless, especially since at this point in my life, I cannot commit as many mistakes as I could when what was at stake was at a minimum. On the other hand, it sometimes makes me wonder if this path of “kamanhidan” (insensitivity) suits me well, or has just created more problems instead of resolving past issues. The only wonderful thing is that I don’t get hurt anymore.

Everything tells me that I am about to make a wrong decision, but making mistakes is just a part of life. What does the world want of me? Does it want me to take no risks, to go back where I came from because I didn’t have the courage to say “yes” to life?

-Eleven Minutes

It could be why I like Adele’s Turning Tables, the first time I heard it. I can relate. I don’t let anyone close enough to hurt me anymore. And in the process, I don’t let anyone close enough to love me too. So, the questions remain…

Is it really time to say goodbye to turning tables? Or should we just go ahead and make the most out of them?

Really important meetings are planned by the souls long before the bodies see each other. Generally speaking, these meetings occur when we reach a limit, when we need to die and be reborn emotionally. These meetings are waiting for us, but more often than not, we avoid them happening. If we are desperate, though, if we have nothing to lose, or if we are full of enthusiasm for life, then the unknown reveals itself, and our universe changes direction.

-Eleven Minutes

Life's a Beach.

"Waves are selfish entities, they push and pull you,without thought or regard. You are my wave. Carry me away."


“Miss is a funny word, one moment it can mean longing when in the next it can mean never.”

What would you do when you run out of things to give?

Excerpt from Jessica Zafra's "Aunt Janey’s Old-Fashioned Agony Column # 10: A return on your emotional investment"

"If you wish to win someone’s affections, never give that person gifts for the purpose of making him grateful to you. Gratitude can become a very heavy obligation and often leads to resentment. Whoever employs such a tactic immediately becomes transparent and will be prone to abuse. You can also be perceived as manipulative and you will definitely be detested and your gifts, no matter how grand, will be viewed with distaste, unless your beneficiary is as callous as I am. Generosity is finding joy in giving without expecting anything in return. Generosity begets friendship and even love. In romance, spreading your arms and legs and baking the man’s bread in your oven will not bind that man to you. Marriage will not help. He must want to be with you because of who you are and not because you give him nice things. What would you do when you run out of things to give?"

The Cycle

“I am absolutely certain that despite the odds, I love her.”

She looks at him, with pursed lips and a raised eyebrow while signaling to the obviously eavesdropping waiter to give them an ashtray. “Well, I know exactly how you feel. Although, I still cannot grasp your brilliant idea of ‘fessing up to me when you cannot even find it in your heart to reveal the identity of this muse of yours. You suck.” She opens her little purse that houses her pack of Marlboro Lights and gets a stick.

He lights her cigarette up, and pushes the ashtray to her side of the table. “Her identity is immaterial, mainly because you don’t know her and you cannot, in even the slightest way, contribute to how I can lure her into looking my way.”

“First, you should really stop hanging out with me when you are in love, it’s annoying, YOU ARE ANNOYING. Second, didn’t I just say that I know how you feel?”

“You have no idea.”

“Of course I do. I know the drill. There is a non-guy in my life too. I will give everything, and I mean everything, including my last stick of cigarette on a really stressful day, for him to look my way. But all he sees in me is this girl SPACE friend that he can smoke with and confide to. I mean, you’ve seen him with me, right? We are perfect for each other. He’d hold my hand and I’d hold his, and what do I get? Nothing. I listen to him rant on and on and on about this girl whom he claims to be the one, and I just sit there, nodding while I study his face, his lips, his eyes. I know him, more than anyone can and ever will know him. I know that he shuts up when he’s mad, I know that he does that knee-jerking action when he feels stressed or that he is never ever confrontational. I also know that he purposely never replies so he won’t appear too needy. I know that sometimes, he concocts feelings for other women to conceal that he is head over heels in love with this woman that he indirectly tells me stories about. He pretends to like going out, just so it won’t seem like he is lonely. But I know that he is. He’s not the partying type. He loves to write poetry, to read good books, to have coffee on a perfectly peaceful day. He loves conversations, not the drunken ones, his eyes light up when he is in an intellectually stimulating discussion about life. He likes to drink, not to get drunk but to appear as drunk and be free from other people’s expectations of him. I know that when he’s judged, he gets hurt and never forgets. And I am absolutely certain that despite the odds, I love him.”

“You are such a drama queen.” He puts his arm around her, “But believe me, inspite of your monologue reminiscent of an asthma attack, you clearly have no idea of what we’re dealing with here.”

She allows her weight to fall towards him and her body to be enveloped in his arm. “Maybe.” She looks up, her expression softened by his post-ranting evaluation of her. “I’m sure, whoever she is… she’ll come around.”

           

“I hope she does.” He slowly pulls away, “I want her to get what she wants.”

On the other side of the room, the eavesdropping waiter told his peers, “Bill daw nun dalawang pa-fall.”