The Waiting Game

February 1, 2016

It has been exactly 17 months today.

I didn’t expect to still be here. There are times when I ask myself, ”When is the right time? How does one know when to stop?” But then I’d switch to, “No. You ain’t a quitter so don’t bother.” It’s a cycle I can never get myself out of. It’s a game where all you can do is hope, pray, and wait. It is a painful, exhausting game. It’s a game where you kill yourself slowly while savoring every second of it.

I have invested so much on this, but it got me too tired and bankrupt. Nothing much is left of me, so I’m acting on it now before I my ammo goes zero. This will be my last cry. Don’t worry; I didn’t write to invite you to join me and to help me in this game. I wrote to tell you that I am using my last bullet to tell everyone that I lost, and that I am done.




Broken Hearts

I know you’ve lost someone and it hurts. You may have lost them suddenly, unexpectedly. Or perhaps you began losing pieces of them until one day, there was nothing left. You may have known them all your life or you may have barely known them at all. Either way, it is irrelevant—you cannot control the depth of a wound another inflicts upon you.Which is why I am not here to tell you tomorrow will be a new day. That the sun will go on shining. Or there are plenty of fish in the sea. What I will tell you is this; it’s okay to be hurting as much as you are. What you are feeling is not only completely valid but necessary—because it makes you so much more human. And though I can’t promise it will get better any time soon, I can tell you that it will—eventually. For now, all you can do is take your time. Take all the time you need.

– Lullabies, Lang Leav

An Open Letter to My Number One Fan

To the person who always know what to do how ever difficult the situation is, to the person who never ceased to believe in me despite my shortcomings and defects, to the person who always makes me see the good out of the bad, to the person who drives me, inspires me to achieve and to do better, to the person who never lived a day without being proud of me…
It has been three months. Three months without you.

The first month felt like nothing happened. The house still felt like a home. It was as if you just did the groceries or you just went out to see a client. It felt like at the end of the day, I’d still see you. At the end of the day, I’d still be able to talk to you. At the end of the day, I’d still be able to hug you and to kiss you and to tell you stories about how my day went.
The next day after we went home from the crematorium, your youngest sister visited us at home. She asked me, “Where’s your mom?” I stared at her for a few seconds; I didn’t know how to respond. Then I realized she was not asking where you are. She was asking where your urn is. Wake up call number one.
The second month was a blur. I know it was filled with problems, worries, and fears, but I cannot remember how I was, how everyone around me was. The second month was all blank.
By the third month, the house started to feel empty and cold. With the unfamiliar embrace of sadness, I realized how lost I have become. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what will make me feel better. I hate talking to people. I hate being with people. I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to quit everything. I can’t find the drive to achieve. All positive energy seems to have been vacuumed out of my system and my reasoning faculty has become dysfunctional.
Now, the holiday season’s here and I’m starting to hate it too. It’ll be the first one without you; the first one when I’ll be reminiscing the memories we’ve made rather than creating new ones.
Mom, it’s so sad. I’m lost, empty and everything in between. I’m in so much pain, and I need you so bad right now. I feel so weak. I need you here beside me. Hug me. I want to rest in your arms after months of crying.
I do not know how to end this letter as I still have a lot of things to say to you, but I guess I’d keep the those between the two of us. Please visit me in my dreams, mom. I miss you so much.

An Open Letter to Mr. (Pseudo)Gentleman

27 December 2014

Dear OOMF, 

I don’t know what happened to you (or did it happen? Did something really change or was she just another victim of your acts?), but damn you are such a liar and a cheater and everything else in between. Your mind is so unstable, and at your age that is such a turn off. You don’t know what you want, and you cannot even stand by the things you said — the things you promised.

You are such a liar.

You told her you’re one-of-a-kind, and you’re not a boy who doesn’t know how to man up. You told her your standards of what is right and what is wrong, your principles and your values, and you told her you’ll stick by those no matter what. You made her feel you’re a man of your words. You acted like the most gentle and most genuine. You showed her the love and the care she’s yearning for. 

But you were such a show-off. Everything was just an act — an act to win whatever it is you want from her and to feed your Satanic ego. You took her by her weakness.

You are such a cheater.

You are not in a relationship with anyone, but you’re crossing two rivers at once by acting as a boyfriend for both. Yeah, labels suck. Just because you guys don’t label yourselves as “being in a relationship” doesn’t mean you can play with their feelings. You tell her you love her at the same time sending kisses to the other. You are not even good-looking and/or appealing to have that kind of attitude. What the hell is wrong with you. Did something happen in the past that you’re trying to collect hearts? Maybe you’ve got that stupid middle child syndrome. Weren’t you given enough attention and love that you’re craving for more than what you deserve right now? Yes, more than what you deserve because by your acts, I don’t think you deserve love and care from a significant other (SO) — or in your case, significant others. Oh. I remember. You once confessed you’ve got an incredibly low self-esteem. Maybe you’re using your SOs to boost that crappy self-esteem of yours. What kind of person are you? You wanna feel good about yourself by hurting others? Come on. Pathetic.

Go ahead and deny. You’re not the man everyone else is thinking. Lucky you; only a few people know about your shit. But hey, I exist so I don’t think that after this post, the head count of people who know about your shitty whereabouts will remain the same. You’re not the person whom she thought you to be, whom she’s proud of. It’s actually kind of a shame for her to be proud of you. You’re nothing but a grain in the sand. You’re still the good old loser you originally were.

On the Other Side of Fear

Hi. After a long time, it’s me again. I haven’t been really active this year as my last post was six months ago. I wasn’t able to write anything for half a year! That’s sad. I don’t really know why I didn’t write as much as I did the previous years. Maybe I’m a little too busy or maybe I’m not motivated or maybe I’m just making excuses.

Anyway, as a blog tradition, I’m posting an end-of-year-slash-kick-off post. Yeah; you read that right — just like parties. *wink* I ended 2012 with a to-do list and 2013 with a gratitude list. This year’s will be a usual paragraph-style post.

2014 has been a roller coaster of emotions and events for me — starting the year with my mom in the hospital, discovering how fast her illness has progressed, getting interviewed and hired for a new job, meeting new friends, creating new connections, falling in love, reuniting with my best friendstravelling, receiving a really nice end-of-year performance rating at work, getting lost and broken and lost again, and dealing with the ever-so-shitty quarter life crisis. It’s quite a jam-packed year.

I did a lot of things — old and new — but I still feel the lack of contentment and happiness. Pondering through the last two weeks of the year, I realized I’m doing something wrong. I started building my world (again) in the most comfortable place possible. I worked in the depths of my comfort zone, and when that comfort zone started to fall apart, I did all the efforts (actually still doing) to keep it standing. Instead of trying to walk on my own, I clung to my comfort zone too much that it started breaking me and making me lose myself. You can go ahead and give me a nuchal blow, but (sigh) I did it because I’m scared. I’m too scared to lose whatever I have because for me, that’s the best I’ve ever had so far.

As my brain is floating on a not so good space, making me feel lost in the past few weeks, I had to converse with someone whom I know has a broader perspective of things. This friend of mine’s too consistent in helping me understand what I’m going through and what stupid things I’m doing to keep up with these really adverse events (Oops. That sounded a little too serious). I’m too hard-headed that my mind repels what this friend’s saying, but this friend… This friend is right. Everything that I want, and need in this context, is right outside my broken, messed up and bullshit comfort zone. Everything is on the other side of fear.

I know this is (or will be) a life-changing realization, but I have yet to accept and to prepare myself for this huge step. It isn’t easy, but I will try my best for I am damn tired of crying and of hurting and of always being on the losing end. (Or am I really?)

May this year be a really better year for me and for everyone who’s with me right now, reading this post. Happy 2015, dear reader!

An Open Letter to the Person I Never Expected

06 July 2014

Hi. It’s 04:26 in the morning and I am here writing you a letter. You may find this letter-writing thing bizarre, but I’m writing this anyway.

As much as I want to tell you these things in person, I am not a good speaker; not that I’m a good writer, but I think I’m better in writing than in speaking. Shall I begin?

Trying to break the wall, you managed to plant a hole in it. It felt queer when the light from outside first bled through the hole but as the days went by, the heat of the light became a familiar feeling — it wasn’t burning; it was comforting. You must be a blessing.

Thank you for carrying my excess baggage with me. It isn’t easy to be with someone who seems to have lost hope. It isn’t easy to lift someone who’s very dragging, someone who seems to have forgotten how easier it is to walk forward than to run backwards. It isn’t easy to make someone who chose to fake smiles put on a genuine and innocent curve on the face. It isn’t easy to be with me, but you stayed. It isn’t easy to lift me, but you carried me like I am weightless. It isn’t easy to loosen my strings, but you managed to make me wear the smile I hid for years.

Thank you for taking things slow – slower, even. When I told you I’m not yet in for something deeper and more serious, you said you’d wait ’till I’m ready. You said you don’t care how long it takes for me to put myself together because no matter how long it takes, you’ll wait for me. When I told you I’m scared, you held my hand tight and told me, “It’s okay; I’m with you.”

Thank you for singing, “But I could be the guy to heal it over time, and I won’t stop until you believe me ‘cause baby, you’re worth it” after every time I sing, “People make promises all the time, then they turn right around and break them. When someone cuts your heart open with a knife and you’re bleeding.”

Thank you for showing me how a real gentleman should be, for showing me the right way how men should treat women. Thank you for helping me earn back the self-respect I lost. Thank you for making me feel my worth again, for pulling me up from the quicksand of poor self-esteem that I made and got myself into.

I can’t put my walls down… not yet, but one thing’s for sure: I want to spend more tomorrows with you.

“We are a generation of idiots: smartphones and dumb people. Look up from your phone, shut down those displays. Stop watching this video; live life the real way.” — Gary Turk

I have a few friends whom I’m always with, but I never really had the chance to know them deeper and to establish a better, stronger connection with them; they’re always on their phones, checking for notifications, posting photos and answering “What’s on your mind?” and ” What’s happening?” I really want to snatch their phones and tell them, “Hey, can we at least talk and be really with each other and not just with each other because we’re in the same space?” Sigh.

This is the main reason why I seldom use my phone when I’m bonding with friends, when I’m eating dinner with my family and when I’m exploring a new community. I’m guilty; I’m sometimes a part of the smartphones-dumb-people population but I try as much as possible to forget about social media when I’m spending time with real people. I want to remember the experience and not just capture the moment. I want to let the people I’m with know and feel that I want to be with them and not just so I can have something to post online. I’m a people person — I deeply value relationships.

Now who’s up for a catch up date with me?


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