2011.

2011 was a colorful blur. It seriously was. It was a year of parties, cultural trips and eventful career-related drama that didn’t give me the permission to be still. Looking back at the year that was, I can say that it was more than eventful, it was  a year of being bullied into constantly keeping up with what’s happening with my life as well as that of my friends’. It felt like we were a bunch of tributes in our own personal version of Hunger games. It was a celebration of meeting new friends and reconnecting with the old and really reliable ones as we journey and constantly seek that one thing (or one million things, whichever is applicable) that we are passionate about. We weren’t aimless but we were confused.  There were a number of moments where we collectively asked the wonderful one-word question that is, “Why?” and hesitantly moved on. 

Yes. In 2011, we learned to move on.

The running joke that teases 2011 to be a 2012 wannabe may be apt to describe what kept me busy during the year. It really felt like I was out there, trying to do everything I can to try new things, acquire new experiences and indulge in them. That was the perfect word, INDULGE. It was a year of crazy indulgence. If 2011 was to be remembered for something, it was the year that I created an insanely big number of photo albums in Facebook and got me addicted to the lomography effect in Photoshop. It was like I was trying to hold on to every single memory created because it was a year that was worth looking back on.

What characterizes this eventful year will not be the series of major events that transpired because quite frankly, there weren’t a lot of those, but the series of surprisingly unforgettable minor events made special by the company that I had. For this, I am forever thankful.

We had a good run, 2011. You’ve been a bitch, but you’re OUR bitch.

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