Love Letter No. __.

Dear You,
Last night, in between that unrecognizable silence after the first song and before the next, I would find myself reaching out for your hand, only that I did not see your hand, and more significantly, that you were not there. I did look for you, in the crowd, so exhaustively that it seemed appropriate to shout.

Breaking away from the party, I looked up and watched in awe as colors burst from the sky. While altering smiling with smoking, with resignation I told myself, "It is true. Some things are meant to be shared with you."

Merry Christmas, Darling. Mistletoes suck without you.

Cheers,
Me.

Until Then, Twenty Ten!

So, it’s that time of the year again, when everything is heightened and emotions are exaggerated and what seemed like a clear delineation between what is real and fiction becomes a broken line. It’s time to look back, shake your head in amusement and well, disbelief while counting both your blessings and mistakes.

Say it with me, “It’s been a good year, dammit!”

If people interpret my blogging to be directly proportional to my issues, then my inability to blog about what’s been happening with me as often as I used to may also be interpreted as an indication of how smooth-sailing and stable my life has been this year. In fact, although 2010 had quite a rocky beginning, you know with that “WAITING FOR BAR RESULTS” sign flashing all over the place up until April, it was, hands down, one of the most stable years of my life.

I have quite a number of things to be thankful for, and this blog, above all, is a celebration of people: People who came into my life, people who voluntarily left and those whom, despite seeing what this hullabaloo that is EUNICE is all about, decided, with some humorous twist of fate, to stay. I see myself more like a stopover for those whom I interact with, and the small number of people whom eventually stick it out with me through thick and thin are those whom I am meant to travel with as I crawl and sometimes, sausage roll my way to DESTINY.

But this would not be a Eunice entry without that contemplation on how my life has been scoring in the LOVE DEPARTMENT. I have finally found the perfect sport to describe love, thanks to the Philippine Azkals and well, World Cup (Disclaimer: I still am clueless about the technicalities of football. All I know is that it involves a bunch of hot men, running around and trying to score, for a loooooooooong period of time. SUE ME.) I think, LOVE really is more like football, you work hard in trying to defend your goal, and it takes some time before you can score a point or two, but when you do, everyone who’s been watching you and supporting you from the sidelines celebrate with you. And even if you don’t, you’ll be happy to call it a day, hope for the best and be thankful that you survived the game, with a little muscle pain to remind you of how tough it is to be in THAT field. Most importantly, if you’re lucky, THERE WILL BE HOT SHIRTLESS MEN waiting for you in the locker room. Bright side, people, bright side.

And even if at times, I feel like a loser for basing my mood on how my favorite TV series ended in its last episode, and even if there are quite a number of moments when I still feel like I am lonely and in desperate need of human warmth, generally, 2010 has been a year of celebrations. It didn’t hurt that I have the best group of people one could ever hope for in trying to make it through this battlefield that we call life. And yes, even if my alcohol consumption has been cut into, I’m guessing, half, admittedly, the best moments are not when we sip our ice cold glass of whatever, but when we RAISE OUR GLASSES and acknowledge that what PINK said was true,

So if you're too school for cool,
and you're treated like a fool,
you can choose to let it go
we can always, we can always, 
party on our own.

Until then, Twenty Ten!

"You know that thing that when God closes a door, he opens a window? Well, sometimes out of nowhere he’ll throw you one better. He’ll take a whole wall down... "
-GLEE 2.08 "FURT"

The Rambling

Here’s what I need you to do. I need you to get over yourself and stop basking in the glory of being my “the one.” And when I blog about love, please don’t arrogantly presume that it is your love that I speak of.

When people tease me about not being able to move on from this one great love, don’t give me that knowing smile that glorifies your certainty of it being you.

If I say that I don’t like playing games anymore, don’t silently contemplate on what you did to make me think that you’re playing with me and my stupid heart and effin’ with my brain.

And when I say I still love him, never ever walk away. Because even if these things that you are sure of are absolutely true, one thing remains the same… I want to be friends with you. Not to wait for your love nor to make you realize that it is I who is destined to be with you, but to make you understand that in the same way that I consider you to be one of my best friends, I am yours too.

That’s what still matters. That’s what still counts.

Now, what are you still doing in that pretending-to-be-discreet corner, awkwardly looking at me from afar?

Throwing the Trash

When you make fun of my heart,
You don’t make fun of me
But of the you that my heart
Found so worthy to love.

When you mock what I felt,
you don’t mock my love
But the friendship
that we once so proudly spoke of.

When you make fun of yourself
and decide to mock this friendship,
You help me not regret
pretending we never met.

Now, go play with your friends,
while I continue loving mine.

The Warning

It's okay to repost my entries but please, PLEASE give credit where credit is due.

They say imitation is the greatest form of admiration. BUT plagiarism is ANNOYING and BLATANTLY OFFENSIVE.

The Things People Ask Google

I can totally relate with your blog ... " The one ( who got away ) " helped me decide about my love life :P Thank you so much :))

Wow.! You're welcome. I'm glad to be of help.

I'm an open book.

The One You Know

The Correspondence

Dear You,

Please do not think that I have, even for a second, forgotten my quest to finally find you, to finally find us. I do get it. I do get why I haven’t met you yet. I sometimes find myself uttering defensive statements like, “I don’t see myself getting married in the near future, not even in the far future.” Or “I am content with being who I am, single and fabulous.”, and honestly, I mean them. Not to be defeatist or anything, but I find it imperative for me to first be happy with being with myself before I, or should I say, we can delve into the matter that is US.

You have become my most cherished thought, my constant answer to the question, “What else should I look forward to?” At this point, besides true financial freedom and everything that comes with financial wealth, I have achieved what I’ve planned to achieve at twenty six. Yes, there are a few imperfections that are in need of tweaking, and yes, there are bumps on the road that may feel and look more like roadblocks than bumps, but they don’t bother me anymore. I don’t see them as roadblocks but as guides. These guides, I believe, will lead me to you.

Here comes the romantic part of the letter. It is meant to be a love letter after all, for you, and about you. I know that either way, with love, you should be able to accept me for who I am, and by now, it is quite clear that who I am and who I will be is something that I have control over. I have come to love myself because I want to give justice to my love for you. I don’t want to be a hypocritical lover because hypocritical love is the worst love. I breathe for myself, live for myself and love for myself not to be selfish but to be able to selflessly surrender to you… at my best. There is no rush for you to get here and well, there is no rush on my end to get there either. You should probably take your time in the same way that I am taking mine.

Be still, even if we are reminded daily of the dilemma of how short life is. I don’t deny it. It is very true. Yet I feel that we don’t need to cram. Remember that when we finally meet, (notice how I say “WHEN” and not “IF” – remember, even FOREVER is a prescriptive term.), we’ll be ready with an endless number of stories to share and the gift of insurmountable eagerness that will get us through memory loss, pain and all things that are ironic in life.

Our hearts beat with a rhythm; listen to our unfinished melody, soon, your words and my words will rhyme. Take care of your heart for me, and I promise, I will take care of mine.

Love,

Me

 

On Playing your Part, Self-righteousness and Freedom of Speech

When you do your part, you don't earn the right to judge people on the basis of what you do. Why? Because that is YOUR part. You don't go around making yourself the standard. Their part, no matter how seemingly insignificant to you, may be most significant to another. When you volunteer for something, and when you feel so selfless helping strangers, you do not become better than people who choose to take care of their family, or their friends. You choose your part. No one imposes it on you.

Everyone has the right to say their piece. There is no blame per se, there is a discussion. An analysis of what could have been done, an expression of what one feels. This is why the Freedom of Speech is a right, not a privilege. There is no prerequisite but yes, there are limits.

And this is not to say that we know better, it’s just that when things like these happen, you rely on people who specialize on resolving these kinds of situations. When they don’t deliver, you resort to discussions not because you want to put them down but because you want an explanation. After all, everyone’s accountable for their actions.

They need to explain because they were the ones who had business there. I just follow this logic, If you’re a lawyer, would you expect the police to do your pleading for you? No. And when you fuck up, can you prevent them from saying that if only you wrote your Complaint more meticulously, the case couldn’t have been dismissed?” NO. Why? Because that is your turf, and they expect you to deliver.

Self-righteousness is a slippery slope. Being affected by a tragedy that killed people is not self-proclaimed patriotism,  nor is it an instant acquisition of crisis management knowledge. It's instinct. When someone dies, you care... not because of anything else, but because we all are here to live and we should be able to do EVERYTHING to ensure that we live. This is not being accusatory, this is probing.

Let people talk. Let everyone do THEIR part. Anyway, you're talking too. Who are you to judge?