17 Sunday Mar 2013
Posted in Musings, The Good Stuff
I find myself thinking about you sometimes, usually in between moments when my mind just finished thinking of something important. When my mind finally changes the subject, for some reason it drifts to you.
It’s not a big deal, really.
I mean, you just make me smile often.
You just make me laugh, too.
I just enjoy having you around.
I could possibly be thinking of you a little more than I should.
It’s not a big deal. I promise.
21 Thursday Feb 2013
Posted in Frustrations
Tags
crying, cryptic, frustrated, guts, honesty, how can I even, late night thoughts, meh, personal, You
I really hate crying. I hate it. I mean, there is nothing and I mean nothing fun about blotchy red eyes, a huge lump stuck in your throat and your heart ripping apart to every wretched sob that leaves your mouth. I hate the headache. I hate the heartache.
I promised myself I wouldn’t cry over you because you’re not worth it. Nobody’s worth locking myself up in the bathroom listening to shitty love songs until I can feel my body break into pieces. Nobody’s worth staring blankly into space for an hour afterwards, trying to get rid of the pounding against my temples.
Do you know how valuable tears are? In Harry Potter, Snape’s tears were used to capture all his precious memories with the one girl he lived for. In The Holiday, Cameron Diaz couldn’t even cry after how many years ever since her parents got divorced. Do you know how much I refuse to cry over you, because you seriously make me feel like I’m the most worthless person who is not worth any of your time?
You may not realize it, but I put so much effort for you. I drop everything, everything to talk to you. God knows what the hell goes on in my head and in my heart when I feel like I could possibly disappoint you, when I feel like there’s a chance I could mess up. But you – god, you don’t see any of it, do you? You don’t see me at all. Sometimes, I even feel like you don’t care.
For the first time, I feel so defeated. But for the first and last time, I’m going to cry over you – over you, me, “us” and whatever the hell is left of it.
I’m fucked. Totally fucked.
21 Monday Jan 2013
Posted in Frustrations, Letters To Someone
Okay, you want a reply? Here’s a reply.
Why don’t you talk to me in person instead of hiding behind a screen? Why don’t you approach me and see what’s wrong with me instead of assuming everything’s okay? Because everything is not okay. We’re not okay. I’m not okay.
You think it’s that easy, to just message me and say sorry and that’s it? Okay, you ignored me after I tell you something as important as what I said. I know you didn’t want to be awkward, but I shoved my pride up my ass and decided to tell you how I feel and you rejected me. The least you could do is try to see if I’m okay instead of just thinking that I am. ‘Cause maybe I was okay then, but I’m not okay now.
You don’t even know half of the things you did to hurt me, and you apologize for the most trivial thing. How about making me a rebound friend? How about not seeing that our friendship went down the drain? How about being insensitive to me and my feelings when you just toss me to the side and pick me up when you run out of people to talk about? Yeah, I’d appreciate it if you said sorry about that. But of course, you wouldn’t know.
I’m not mad. You may think I’m mad, but I’m not. I’m honestly just numb and disappointed. You want to be sensitive? Read this, and grow up a little. I know I’m probably being a hypocrite for not saying this to your face, but for once I’m tired of making the effort to patch up a friendship that maybe only I wanted to fix.
22 Saturday Dec 2012
Posted in Frustrations, Musings
Tags
cryptic, frustrated, guts, honesty, late night thoughts, love, meh, You
Would it be easier to just put all the cards on the table?
Would things be better for me to just tell you everything – to tell you what’s going on inside my head, to tell you what’s going on inside my head about you, to ask you the questions I’ve been dying to ask, to let out every painful, confusing thing you’ve done, and to have you clear up that everything that I’ve been thinking was either wrong or right? What would come out of it? What would happen? Would we be okay? Or is this the one-way ticket to messing everything up?
We practically just “survived” the supposed predicted apocalypse. And all throughout the day, I kept thinking that if today were the end of the world, I would tell you how I feel. And I guess I was wrong in hoping that you would do the same thing, because how am I so sure that you’re feeling what I’m feeling? How am I so sure that I mean as much to you as you do to me?
Maybe I’m better off writing you something and telling you in my head. Maybe you’re just better off not knowing. Maybe – I don’t know. I’ve had enough.
05 Wednesday Dec 2012
Posted in The Good Stuff, Tributes
We’ve all got our junk, and my junk is you –
You, being Lara and Aldrich. Three crazy people at Pizza Hut, laughing too loud over “pizza water” and subtlety, reunited after so long. Making fun of each other, embarrassing each other – these are the type of friends who seem to pick up where they left off a couple of weeks or months before. We never really needed to spend too much time together, but when we did, it would be enough to last us months at a time.
You, being Jaime. Jaime, my long lost brother who went to Los Angeles to live the life of a successful yet still struggling artist. Jaime, whom I spent most of my early 2012 with in Bare – it still feels like the jokes we made with Raisa and Reb were made only yesterday. It doesn’t get old, we don’t feel old – I love how it feels like we were never really apart. He’s constantly supportive, always easy to talk to – definitely what I would love about an older brother.
You, being some of my law school blockmates. Even if they know I’m drifting further away, they still try to pull me back. I’m glad that it seems like they still care, that they know I don’t really wanna talk about it, that they’re acting normal, which is really what I would prefer. I’m really blessed to have blockmates like this – they’re going to make it, because they really know the concept of never giving up, even on me.
You, being you. You’re a little more complicated than you seem, and I realized that I actually knew more about you than I thought. I’m gonna stick around, because you need it, and maybe because I need it to. I’m happy to have you around, and I think that’s enough for me to keep going, even if it seems pretty one-sided.
See we still keep talking after you’re gone / You’re still with me then, feels so good in my arms –
26 Monday Nov 2012
It always started with stupid little things, like his smile.
You don’t really notice it at first; after all, he’s just one of those random people you’re friends with. He’s nice, friendly, everything you’d want in an acquaintance to be your friend. You guys like similar things, which is probably why you guys became friends in the first place. There isn’t anything remotely interesting about him that would make you take a second glance.
And then one day, he smiled at you. And you suddenly felt your stomach drop.
It was ridiculous. So yeah, he had a cute smile. Whatever. Not a big deal, right? You’ll get over it. Maybe you just appreciate the way his lips curve upwards; there was absolutely nothing special about him whatsoever. It could be compared to telling someone you like their – well, I don’t know, their dress or something. Yeah, something like that.
And then come the other stupid little things like, well, the way your fingers brush against the other when you pass each other something, or the way he ruffles his hair, or the way he makes fun of himself that you find so adorable, the way he wraps his arms around you to hug you hello. And you realize all these stupid little things become one stupid big thing called him and the fact that you might, just might like him a little more than you should, because all these stupid little things started happening to you.
Things, like – the way your heart flutters when you guys make eye contact. The way you subtly try to avoid him just to see if he says hi first. The way butterflies invade your stomach whenever he smiles at you. The way you’re writing all these useless, beautiful things because he induces you into this pathetic, poetic stupor.
It’s ridiculous. It’s stupid. But sometimes, you smile to yourself, you have a feeling you’re going to like this kind of ridiculous stupidity.
01 Friday Jun 2012
Posted in Letters To Someone, Musings
We really shouldn’t have gone on that boat.
I mean, you had your boat and I had mine – two separate boats, both sturdy, safe and stable. Then you just had to go and bump your boat with mine, and now our ships are broken and we’re stuck on one of those orange inflatable rafts together. Pathetic, yet particularly exciting and beautiful.
I sincerely believe you are a pirate, because pirates steal things. You always steal the opportunity to talk first in a conversation (although that has no protest on my end), you always steal time after countless hours of conversation and once again you steal something from me that I wasn’t intending to give. You are a mean, true pirate – and I hate you.
I can’t even write this properly, because you don’t make me think straight and you make me idealistic and completely, utterly irrational.
I will edit this when I can, but god, I love hate you.
16 Wednesday May 2012
Posted in Frustrations, Letters To Someone
Tags
anonymous letter, cryptic, frustrated, honesty, personal, You
I probably don’t mean that much to you, and what I say probably doesn’t matter to you. I may just be that familiar stranger you happen to see more often than not. I may just be easy company, or even company that you don’t really care to be around. I probably mean nothing to you, and you’re probably okay with that.
You aren’t supposed to mean this much to me though. At one point, I really must say that you didn’t mean anything to me at all. You too were just some passing face I happened to see often; you were even someone that I dreaded seeing because I was slowly starting to get sick of you. What you said didn’t really matter to me; you were easy company and you were slightly entertaining.
Things turned around that one time, though. You probably didn’t want to seem as vulnerable as you really were, but I saw it because it wasn’t too long ago when I was just as vulnerable as you. I would see you go through the motions, like everything was okay. Everyone around you was walking on broken glass, or tiptoeing around you like a bomb waiting to explode. Everyone was probably waiting for that moment where you just lose it. But you never did. You kept an easy, slightly neutral face. But it was in your eyes: everything, the sadness, the hurt and that slight uncertainty of what the hell to do next. Seeing you that broken – well, it broke me.
All I knew is that I never wanted to see you like that again. Countless times I’ve tried to make the effort to make sure that you were okay, or that things would never be as bad, or that you wouldn’t ever have to go back to that place again. Maybe it didn’t seem like I was making that kind of effort, but I was – in my own weird, awkward way.
It seems like you’re back on your feet, but I’m afraid that you’re about to just make another mistake. I’m afraid that you might just be going back into this hole where there’s no way out, or where people might not be able to get you out. I’m just afraid that sooner or later, I’ll find myself staring at your eyes with that same kind of vulnerability, that kind of emotion that wrenched my guts in a way that I couldn’t even explain.
Trust me, even I don’t know why I’m so emotionally invested. Even I don’t know why I’m upset. I probably don’t mean that much to you, and what I say probably doesn’t matter to you. At the end of the day, people are probably going to read this and they won’t even know it’s you. At the end of the day, I’m still just a face in the crowd, this crowd of people who you acknowledge with a slight nod and a tight-lipped smile. I still probably don’t matter to you.
I just hope that you don’t end up in that place again. I don’t know if it’s a matter of gut feel or even the things people say, but I do worry that it would only hurt you instead of make you happy. You deserve so much more than what you’re looking for, yet you seem to keep your eyes on the ground instead of what’s in front of you. I just want you to know that I’m looking for out you, even if you probably don’t want me sticking around.
Sometimes, I wish it were me instead. But who am I kidding, right?
12 Sunday Feb 2012
Posted in Musings
Love has definitely been in the air lately, with Valentine’s Day around the corner and all. Of course, they only come in two varieties: “Cannot wait for Valentine’s Day with my baby!” or “Single Awareness Day! Shit.”
After celebrating Valentine’s Day with someone special for two years (which isn’t really a lot), I don’t really know how I feel about Valentine’s Day this year. To a certain extent, I agree with other people in thinking that Valentine’s Day is a pretty lame holiday. I don’t know if I’m saying that because I’m single (and I admit that sometimes, it really just sucks) or if it’s because I’m one of those people who believe that you don’t need a holiday to make a person feel loved.
According to Wikipedia (not that it’s reliable, but oh well, right?), Valentine’s Day actually was only associated with romantic love during the medieval ages when courtly love flourished. The story of St. Valentine was modified a bit, saying that the Emperor at that time wanted guys single for the army. St. Valentine then would marry young men to their beloved in secret or whatever, then the Emperor had him arrested and executed. But really, it used to be a feast day for St. Valentine – although apparently, there were three of them.
What I’m trying to say is, we’re celebrating a holiday that actually could be fake. Flowers, chocolates, dates? Do we really need to spend that much money or spend so much time and effort trying to do something for someone we love? Or is it really just that one day where one boy or one girl musters up enough guts to do something cheesy and romantic because he or she wanted to show someone he or she loved them? Maybe originally Valentine’s Day wasn’t romantic, but in a couple of days, couples all over the world will be celebrating a day of love. Cheeseballs, I know.
I may be single. Sometimes, I think Valentine’s Day sucks. But this year? I don’t know. Maybe it could be a chance for me, and a couple of other people, to just remind the other people we don’t usually show affection for that we love them – that deep down, I love you today, tomorrow, the day after that, the week after that, the year after that, forever.
And for someone, maybe I wouldn’t want to love anyone else.
09 Thursday Feb 2012
Posted in The Good Stuff
Sometimes, the best thing about writing is the muse behind it all.
Usually the night before the due date of my writing exercises for my Creative Writing class, I’m still stuck a couple of pages in. The worst of writer’s block hits me like the plague; it’s kind of like getting sick right before a big game or losing your voice during the last technical dress rehearsal before Opening Night. What’s horrible is that I have to write at least fifteen pages worth of substance – fifteen pages worth of Miguel’s sarcastic, dark wit that should spill out of me smoothly, like water pouring out of a pitcher full of it.
Today seems different. Suddenly, I’m caught up in a whirlwind of inspiration. My fingers are suddenly flitting over the keys like moths to a flame, fireflies dancing around the night’s sky and directing your gaze to the stars hidden behind a layer of smog and smoke. And I’d really, really like to think it’s because of you. Not because you did anything spectacular, but because the sight of you kind of leaves me feeling… like this.
I used to say that I could write a million things about you and it still wouldn’t be enough. But now, maybe I’d take that back. Right now? It feels like I could write a million things and it still wouldn’t be enough, because of you.
Yeah, I’m a cheeseball, as I always am. But for some reason, it doesn’t matter. It really, really doesn’t matter.
I’m leaving some of my inspiration for my homework, but to you – thanks. You totally made my day, my night and well – my week. I’m looking forward. 🙂
