some thoughts for the day...
When I was young, I expected people to give me more than they could - continuous friendship, permanent emotion. Now I have learned to expect less of them than they can give - a silent companionship. And their emotions, their friendship, and noble gestures keep their full miraculous value in my eyes; wholly the fruit of grace.
It's funny how we set qualifications for the right person to love while at the back of our mind, we truly know that the person we truly love will always be an exception..
The Ex.
Now I have an idea why people make such big deals about exes. You know... stuff like, getting over the ex, dealing with the ex, being friends with the ex and being an ex.
I am an ex. I know that it's stupid and silly to sound as a part of my life revolved around being somebody's ex. But I can't help it... that title packs a pretty strong punch. I am now and official member of the "love and lost" club. And while it's a title I don't exactly want, I have to admit that it does say something about me.
I am an ex. I once loved someone who really loved me back. But that someone didn't stay... so I had to let that someone go.
I cried. A lot. I spent countless nights wondering what went wrong, my muffling sobs with my pillows so that no one would suspect that something was amiss. I'd reminisce about out happy times, then break down when I'd realize that the person was no longer mine. I analyzed every single detail of our breakup. I talked endlessly about my situation. I spent nights in tearful telephone conversations and my days in daydreams where we'd end up in each other's arms again.
Sometimes that person still makes my world turn, I'd do anything for just to get that someone back. But sometimes, I saw that someone as the bitch incarnate who broke my heart, and who deserved to be horsewhipped at the very least.
I told myself that I was all for the better. That this was destined. My friends offered advice, none of which I hadn't heard before: "It's a sign that you're not meant for each other," "When God closes a door, He opens a window," "Someone better is coming for you," "There are so many other fish in the sea," etc.
But it didn't work. Because deep down, I still believed that person was the one. No one, except me, could ever say who is deserving of the love i give. And I couldn't understand how this was all for the better... when everyday seemed more torturous than the last... not being able to be with that person the way I wanted to be, seeing that person so unaffected, and dealing with my broken-and-smashed heart and bruised ego.
I tried to immerse myself in other activities to forget about that person. I went out a lot. I filled my schedule with movie marathons, shopping sprees, clubbing and partying. It worked for a while... but then there were times, times when my mind was cleared of the busy thoughts I tried to occupy it with, that I would think of that someone. Memories would sneak up to me on tiptoes, catching me in my most vulnerable moments.
I tried to show the world that I was OK. That I was over that someone. That it is fine just being friends. I didn't go around with a big "X" on my forehead, nor did I go around with puffy eyes and tissue box. I tried to live my life, as I knew it before I met that person. People thought I was doing great.
They heard me laugh, and they saw me smile; I seemed happy, they said; and I told myself I was. But in the solace of my room, where I tried to organize my thoughts and sort out my feelings, I had to admit to myself that I wasn't truly happy. Because I was still yearning for someone, and my heart still ached for something that could not be.
It's been more than a month now since we broke up, surprisingly, things have gotten better(?) I've changed. Somewhere along the way, I realized that the person wasn't the only one out there for me. I also realized that there were valid, powerful reasons why we split up. And I've become stronger, older and wiser.
That person has changed as well, when I look at that person, sometimes I still see the person I fell in love with. Sometimes I think that one's the same person as before... the same sweet smile and contagious charm that I fell for, and I like to believe that the rest of that is changed as well. But then I take a closer look and I realized that person HAS changed... that I don't know that person anymore, not really... not enough to love and care for as I once did.
I am an ex. I've loved and lost. I've cried tears for the things that were and that could have been. I've rested with intense feelings of love and hate, of jealousy, of frustration. I've tried to rebuild my world without the person whom it used to revolve around. I've tried to save myself from the depths of depression and self-pity, and when I couldn't do that, I tried to preoccupy myself.
I don't know exactly what I gained, or how much I lost. Maybe someday it will all be clear to me... then again, maybe not.
--Tophr
i hate love. fuck.
Aaaaarrggghhh…
It occurred to me again, this time in the middle of what’s supposed to be a time to relax. I kept you safe within the remote areas of my consciousness, but suddenly, as if driven by an unknown force, your memory unearths itself, returning some sort of unfinished business. Consequently, I pause from being dazed and I start thinking about you.
And it always left me a touch of sadness.
As far as I was concerned, I made it a point not to think about you anymore, at least not that often as I used to, in the form of preoccupation. There are lots of things to do, friends to spend time and energy with, family affairs (yeah, right!), radio, and the internet. There are even lots of new objects of affection in the rough. ^_^’
Works for the most part, I should say. Within the confines of my room with everything beside me, there is forgetting.
Just like the manner by which ice cubes freeze bacteria within their crystal networks. As long as they remain frozen, everything’s safe. There is no need to worry.
But somehow, you still manage to permeate my system, as if it were an expertise or a tediously-learned skill. Moment by moment, you profusely enter my mind, filling my awareness with lost memories of once-upon-a-times and whatnots. Memories of holding hands, afternoon walks, lunch outs, text messages and phone calls instantly zoomed into my mind as if they were scenes from a Matrix flick. I also remember of yesterday’s seemingly unbreakable promises and proclamations of forever. Fuck.
I should’ve put into mind what an old friend told me, ‘Forever’s not real’. Grr.. remembered Sarah Geronimo [
Forever’s not Enough]. I have always yearned to understand what had happened between us. “US” won’t even suffice: was it even a real relationship? We just hung out and talked and spent time together more often than we did with our other friends and colleagues. Sometimes it pained me that I could not do anything in my power to force you to effing tell me whatever’s going on in your mind. Certainly, the ambiguity was present, the ambiguity which you never wanted to clarify.
I could only let you go on with whatever it was that you desired, whether it be ranting about your insecurities, rejoicing over happier news or lamenting about your eventful past. On the other side, I remained silent in the middle of your hyped-up emotion. I was like a child with beaming eyes, eager to hear more stories of how you came about to be the person that you are. For you, once told me, that listening to you gave you strength to go on, and so I did. I have always wanted you to be okay.
Yet when it was my turn to be heard, the silence was a void. I suspended my disbelief when I convinced myself that you always meant well, whenever you apologized for there was nothing you can do about my bouts of depression, or when you simplify things by saying that everything’s gonna be alright. I know I should not expect things from other people; perhaps I was at fault when I wanted more from you when you can only give so little.
You hurt me. You hurt me many, many times. You hurt me so intensely I never dared to tell you anything about it. I was a fool to think that it was a better way of dealing with things. And that, I presume to be my biggest mistake: I abandoned myself. I sought for your happiness that I forgot about mine altogether.
And just like that, you vanished, very much like a soap bubble floating across air. I have watched you in complete awe, wonder and even fascination. And similar to any ethereal fleeting moment, you were gone, leaving me clueless as to whether you even existed in the first place.
So maybe what we had was love. Maybe I loved you, and I hope to heavens that you really loved me back: even just for a split second when we held each other’s hands, or during that moment when I looked into your eyes, or the time when I laughed at one of your silly quirks, or during the time you told me that you *really love me* while you were sobbing because you can’t imagine what would happen if I leave you. I’d be content with that idea, I’d be content that in the course of our ‘whatever-it-is-called’, there was a moment of mutuality; even if it was so fucking quick I never noticed it all.
Perhaps I still do love you, but that won’t do much now. I can fight to save everything that I’ve invested, but I chose not to. I have treasured you in the past, and that will be enough. Right now, all I can do is wish you well in all your endeavors.
The end is only a beginning disguised as a parting. I will still think about you every now and then, probably be sad once in a while, but you need not to worry. For I am okay and I will be okay under all circumstances. It may take time for me, but in the long run, it will be all worth it. I may still risk myself, but every risk in its own respect is worth taking anyway. Love is such a convoluted mixture of emotions and decisions that it’s a matter of working your way through it.
Thank you for gracing my life like a whirlwind, leaving me breathless and hurt, inspired and furious, affectionate and listless. You’ve taught me quite a lot (without you knowing it) and I learned them in the most humbling (and heartrending) manner. Thank you for showing me what it means to be human, to commit mistakes, and to discover how to regain myself after everything that had happened.
Like what I heard again from a friend, 'Ad astra per aspera.' A rough road leads to the stars. I’m on my way to becoming stellar.
-tophr
thoughts on a party...
I may not know how to dance, but i do know how to make money, and i have the money to make people dance! :)
what is love...?
a friend of mine texted me...
g: "how do you know pag mahal mo ang isang tao?"
my reply: hmm.. for me, it's someone who i can't live without. Who carries and shares my world, and who i cherish more than anything else. And lastly, who I picture my future with...
Funny how I still answer that question with so much candor and enthusiasm. I guess I don't give up that easily. I guess life really wants me to get hurt.. and wanted me to go through that experience so that i may learn, learn more about what is lying ahead of me... there are no regrets in this journey of life. only learning experience.. stepping stones of who i want to be, and who I'm going to be...fate really has a funny way of making people meet. This is a small world. So small that our every action affects others indirectly..
Website
Today.. I spent the whole time re-designing my website. It was long overdue. Haven't uploaded the rest yet though. I created a new section dedicated to
Kahlil Gibran, and I'll be adding a few more for the other writers.
I'll be off now. I'll be catching a movie. It's weekend finally! :) But have to go to work again tomorrow and on Sunday.
productivity
sometimes, it's not correct to compare activity with productivity...
G: "Happiness is between the intervals of unhappiness".
some updates
i am out of words... post something tomorrow. maybe i am still devastated with the fact that i'm not a better person to deserve forever... that i am nothing and a failure.
cruel small world
I've learned that life is cruel. Our world small. And our actions affect not only ourselves but the greater whole itself. Have you made a difference?
she was for me the single probable "what-if" left in my life. but after tonight, i wouldn't even have that.
i was practically crushing on her since i was twelve. back then i didn't really think she knew i existed. i was one of her groupies (albeit the silent one that never admits). she had an adorable face and she was justifiably adored by the everyone who God blessed with early puberty, while i was still wearing boy's tees and an incredibly school boyish facade. so i gave her up to some other person early in life.
a decade later she comes back with the same adorable face and also with an inkling of interest in moi. hmmm...
but sometimes interests never really get people anywhere until they have enough passion (okay, hormones) to get the friendship moving to the next level. so our love story was pretty much phone calls, emails and then the dubious mushy quote which used to keep me awake thinking of its subtext.
then add about a dozen other boys running after her at the time and her perpetual mumness about her lovelife. there: you've got the perfect formula for a love tragedy by stagnancy.
after all the gathered information, i came up with this tentative hypothesis that she had a thing for me. only, she never really said so...and her word was the single most significant data for a conclusion.
up until the month i hooked up with my present love interest, she was texting me mushy quotes. to hell with mushy quotes, if you've got something to say, say it. mushy quotes only complicate matters.
after several months, she texts me out of nowhere and asks me if i'm busy. a few hours after, we're talking about our present lovelives over rootbeer floats in a mini mart. Then of all times, of all places, she tells me she is over me and she has moved on. what the f?! where did that come from?! anyway, i wanted to ask her what exactly she was moving on from when nothing really happened. but i thought, who was i to say nothing happened? her version of the story might be more eventful for all i know. but i never will know because we talked about the "thing" for a whole two minutes.
...and that was that.
i guess it's just something we brushed off as trivial even if we knew that this closure was more monumental than we would ever care to admit.
