Sunday, March 16, 2014

Dreams of apocalyptic desires

"When someone appears in your dreams like that, it's because that other person's desire to see you leaves their body and comes out flying into your dreams" - Honey And Clover

Lately, I've been having more and more dreams with him in it. They were mostly reminiscent and there were a few where it felt like I was chasing him or he would just stand there.

I've always believed that dreams are fueled by our desires. So as much as I would wish that it was him, missing me, but I think it was really me doing all the missing.

Since I'm already in the topic of missing, maybe if it will help me if I unload some things.

What do I remember and miss about him? I can never list everything but I think I can list the few that would send me flying back in time and tear up, reliving the moments in my head.

The first of the many things I miss about him is his "Hm?" with a half nod. This would usually happen when I am saying something or telling him a story. I remember, we were walking to the jeepney stop in Pateros and I was telling him a story about work or a friend, he turned to me and said "Hm?" with a half nod. Irritated, thinking it was a notion that he didn't understand, I ended up repeating everything I said. My tone was different and he knew this. He chuckled and asked "Bakit mo inulit yung sinabi mo?" with a smile. It was here that he explained that his expression was confirmation that he understood. It was funny cause prior to that day, I kept repeating everything when he does this. I miss it...

I miss his eyes that sparkle when he is introduced to something new. He would excitedly ask questions and express his desire to try it out. The child-like wonder that resides in him, this trait that he nurtures is amazingly beautiful. The way he says "Ehhhhhhhhh?!" when you tell him something new, and how he excitedly asks "Wow! Pano yun?!" is just precious. This... is one of the things that made me attracted to him.

His excited expression and hand gestures when he's telling me something new or something funny. He can make any dull story sound like it's the most interesting thing in the world. He can be so animated with his hands while explaining. He sparks interest in others when he's like this, and I love it... and I miss it.

Faced with many adversities in life, his determined face reminds me that he wouldn't back down so easily. He likes a good challenge, even though sometimes, it makes him feel depressed, he'd spring back to life and face it head on. Truly admirable, I was jealous of this.... And I miss it.

He hates it when we are late for anything. One of the things I miss is his irritated expression when I'm running late. The way his eyes would squint and his tiny mouth would pout while telling me why I am running late and why it shouldn't happen. It irritated me then. It felt like he was nagging me but I know he was right ... now, when I look back and close my eyes, it's no longer irritating but cute. I'd like to see this expression on his face again.

There were only a few times but, the biggest impact, out of everything he did when we were together, was when he would punch walls. I remember him telling me a story about his injured knuckle, how it would hurt cause some bones might have been misaligned. Whenever he would punch the wall, I would always worry that it would hurt twice as much because of that injury. The day we broke up, I heard him punch the wall. I stood with my back to the door outside his room and closed my eyes. I knew it could have hurt him but I stopped myself from going back in. If I did, I wouldn't be able to leave...

Lastly, his voice. I don't know what is the span of time where in one would forget how another person's voice sounds like. It's been more than a year now and I think I may have forgotten the sound. I hope that the next time I hear it, though the encounter may be heartbreaking, I would still be able to recognize it.

There are plenty of things that I miss about him, and there are plenty of things that reminds me that I do miss him.

But I believe that he is happy now and I don't belong in his world anymore. I'll be working my best to get over this feeling. I'll probably create a separate blog just for the purpose of getting over. I need suggestions on what I should call it. I'm thinking of calling it, 365 days of something.

Honestly, this won't do
How is he doing?
I tell myself I'm feeling swell
But I know I'm such a fool 

I could take it as a new beginning
But you know I don't feel that way
Who will take all this pain away?
I know it's wrong for me to say...

Monday, March 10, 2014

Getting to that halfway point

Things will be harder...

I think I've finally come to terms with this feeling. I think this is what they call "Regret."

According to Wikipedia, 

"Regret is a negative conscious and emotional reaction to personal past acts and behaviors. Regret is often expressed by the term "sorry." Regret is often a feeling of sadnessshameembarrassmentdepressionannoyance, or guilt, after one acts in a manner and later wishes not to have done so. Regret is distinct from guilt, which is a deeply emotional form of regret — one which may be difficult to comprehend in an objective or conceptual way. In this regard, the concept of regret is subordinate to guilt in terms of its emotional intensity. By comparison, shame typically refers to the social (rather than personal) aspect of guilt or (in minor context) regret as imposed by the society or culture (enforcement of ethicsmorality), which has substantial bearing in matters of (personal and social) honor."


I am well aware of this textbook definition of the word but nothing could have prepared me for the abyss of emotions unleashed when you come to accept that this dwells within you. 

I guess it comes in different forms but for me, regret comes in the form of uncontrollable sighs, daydreams and a dark nostalgia of emotions that attack me during random times. 

It could be a condition, or at least I'm hoping it is. If it were, then there should be something prescribed to deal with it somewhere. Although, I've still yet to find it. 

If I would relay the events that would lead me to this conclusion, it would be as follows: 

The first time was when I went home. I haven't been home for a while. At home, when I prepare for bed, I would usually leave my Itunes playing everything. This usually calms me down 'til I fall asleep. However, as I prepared to embark S.S. Dreamland, a familiar song played. 

"It's time to relive all the memories
Catch every day in a frame

Sing with me
Na na na na na...
Let us go back in time
Just for a minute to 69
Come sing along with me
Na na na na na...
Let us go back again
We're praying this time it will never end
Come sing along with me"

What this song meant to him was beyond what I could comprehend. But this song, to me, represent the scent of his room, the sofa bed where we would lie talking, the wooden floor with creeking floorboards and how we would make a thumping sound when we would fall laughing about all the random things. 

I was dreaming but my eyes were wide open. It's such a gentle dream but the emotions it invoked were of a raging storm....In the end, I was unable to sleep. I felt robbed of a good rest but I had no one to blame. 

There was another time when I was on a bus, sitting by the window. It was a short trip but it felt longer. I knew I was riding on a bus but it felt like I was riding in tandem on a bike. I would look around and see the traffic lights, the pedestrians, and the buildings from that perspective. The only difference was, there was no smoke, no noise, and I wasn't holding onto him. I'd be frustrated when the bus won't move and throttle at the green lights as he did. I felt upset, and again, I felt robbed of a good opportunity to appreciate the scenery but I had no one to blame.

There was another time when I went to Eastwood. This was when my sister was in the hospital and I took time off work to watch over her. I got a chance to go to Eastwood, to her office, to pick up some documents for the hospital while her friend agreed to watch her while I was gone. The place was still a marvel to me. There were so many new places and the area looked busier than ever.

It was here where we used to spend time together. And just like that, vivid images of those memories started to manifest themselves in the form of daydreams. My mom, who was with me at that time, would often shake me out of it as I would stop and stare at the benches where we sat, places where we ate at, and spots where we would stop and talk. I didn't understand why all these good memories seem to elicit and stir unwanted emotions inside me. I felt robbed of a good time but I had no one to blame. 

Image from Dataentry

Another time, this was when a few co-workers and I were eating breakfast at a local french restaurant. We were punting each other with jokes when one of them mentioned something that made me remember him. I could not, for the life of me, recall what it was, but what lingered was an unwelcome feeling of longing to share the meal with him. I remember when we would often eat out, we would order the best meals to make the most out of the experience. We would explore new food places and post pictures online. The memory sank in and I felt sad. I felt robbed of a good meal but I had no one to blame. 

And the last one that I could relay and remember, It was late and I was on my way to work. Then the sky suddenly decided it was a good prank to 'til the basin and pour water in the ill infested world below it. I was unlucky enough to leave my small umbrella inside my locker at work, and my spare at home. I would have gone back to get it but I thought it would be nice to feel the rain every once in a while.

I hate rain. I hate how it creates dirty puddles on the ground. I hate how it makes the ground smell pungent and I hate how people seem to multiply under it. I hate every part of it. 

As I made my way to the closest block to the where I could ride, I felt the water trickle down my nape and down to my back. It was a sensation I felt before and a feeling I know better than others. That single drop that escapes when we would ride home on his bike on a rainy night. I would hold tight around his body while he breezed through the wall of dripping water in front of us. 

I felt robbed... but here is where I understood why. Here is where I finally came to understand why all these memories were giving me such pain. It was hard to accept at first since this wasn't me. I was never one to look back cause I believe that the past is just there to learn from and holding on to it will keep you from moving forward. 

It was regret.

These memories were beautiful; every single one of them. It was a puzzle to me at first but I came to understand that it wasn't these memories alone that is making me feel this way but how they were wasted because of my indecisiveness and my habit of letting things go so easily. 

There are tons of what if's and Why's in my head. And it's overwhelming that I can answer not a single one of them. I never thought, out of all the things I learned and experienced that I would come to this point. I used to pride myself that I am someone who never lets the past hold me down. 

I guess, this was to prove, that I was wrong. 

This is just the first step. Realizing the problem and rationalizing the cause. There are still more steps to get to the halfway point where my aim is to rid myself of this feeling and move forward. 

I need to find a cure. 

All I need to do is to find a cure that would work for me. 

Monday, March 03, 2014

Last year

Oh hello Blog. It's been a while since we've had any contact. It was thanks to a few friends at work that I remembered that I had you. I figured that it's about time that we did some catching up so here's an entry.

"Sometimes we find ourselves in the middle of nowhere, and sometimes in the middle of nowhere... we find ourselves. "

I found this posted in a random timeline on facebook. It got my attention cause, for as long as I could remember, I have been telling myself to find me. Who am I? It's a question about my identity that I can't seem to answer. Or I may just not be trying hard enough.

With this, I would like to tell you a story about me while we've been separated. My experiences, the things I've learned, and how the same question about my identity haunts me to this day.

By the time of writing this entry, I am still at a loss for words on how to describe the swelling emptiness that I have created. Writing about emptiness isn't the goal here though so I will do my best to paint the best picture of how wonderful and bitter the whole story was so that we could both remember and preserve this emotion while I still have it.

After I've been separated from my partner from the US, I fell in love. I want to stop at that description and follow it up with a fact that I realized that I cannot truly love. Such irony, but yes, it depicts the truth.

I traveled to Singapore where I stayed for a few months. It was a beautiful country with the level of discipline that I cannot hope to find in mine and pride that goes along with it. It has it's own enchantment and it bewildered me. And in the lion city,Singapura , I started a new relationship with my best friend.

Initially, I had strengthened my resolve to not have a relationship with him for he was too precious and gentle, a complete opposite of how I live my life. But I appreciate the little wonders that he brought. I'd like to say that he was the sweetest man I've ever met.

Words would not do justice to describe how he took my heart. In the language of sweets, it was most delectable. He is the depiction of what every perfect man would be for a woman. A few of his whimsical charms is that he will surprise you with flowers on a day with no occasion, he will bring you what you are craving for after posting it on your facebook page, and the most important part of it all.... He will catch you in his arms when you're about trip or fall. He was everything anyone could ever ask for.

We made plans, a place of our own, a family, friends, a life we could have lived,  it was all too perfect, .

And then there was me. I felt like the relationship was the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me. I was drunk in the liquor of content and happiness of that moment, looking forward to everyday that we spent together.

And then one day, I looked into the mirror and saw a horrendous sight.

It was me, reluctant and unsure. I didn't notice that the time I spent being wooed and smothered by his undivided attention would result to what I have become. I've steadily gained weight and I've lost contact with people I usually hung out with. My self esteem was trampled by the compliments that he fed me of which, majority aren't to speak truth about me but to aim at flattery. And all of a sudden, I was scared. I was scared that he would change as I did. I was scared that it was all a lie and I would end up alone in the end. And this fear fed my heart continuously

I've started to close my heart and I've become cold and unfeeling. I wanted to protect myself as if it was an instinct, but one that I should have fought while I had the chance. Slowly, I felt so jaded that I couldn't even say "I love you" to him without meaning it until I stopped saying it altogether.

It was over the phone when he asked me if I still loved him. The moment I said I couldn't, felt like forever. In my head, his expression was of complete fraught silence. At that instance, I fell off the edge. Since June, I've been trying to escape. I wanted to move out and only see him once a week so I would feel the sense of longing. I want to need to see him again but come November, I woke up and I no longer feel love.

I've lost the feeling. Somewhere during that year, I felt like I dropped it somewhere I could not reach. I hopelessly searched for it and I was afraid he'd find out. In the end, I had to let go. I couldn't lie anymore. I couldn't say I'm feeling something I don't. And I've asked myself multiple times if I'm doing the right thing, but before I could even answer, there was an incessant ringing in my head telling me to let go.

And then his eyes, and then his face, and the look of pain on both gets to me. He wasn't happy but he's trying his best to be. I don't want that. I want him to experience the love he deserves and for one who isn't feeling it, I don't deserve that spot in his heart. As do most parts of a whole, when one is not functioning as it is intended, it should be removed and replaced. I felt like I was that malfunctioning part. I was the one not making it work. So I removed myself.

An afternoon with him, I discarded all of my emotions and humanity and told him I wanted to end it. Up til today, I die every time I would close my eyes and imagine the moment he heard that I wanted to break up. It must have felt like a thousand spears to the heart.

We met again once after that but the succeeding meetings never happened. I understood that friends, family and people around him are probably telling him to let me go. And I would have sided with them. I deserve none of his love, his fondness and care. It would be best spent on a woman fit to love him and will cherish him for who he is.

I tried to drown myself in work and condition myself to be alone as I felt like I deserve to be. And then, I met a friend. An old friend, an acquaintance who consoled me and made me feel that I did the right thing. He confessed his feelings for me at a later time, and he won my friends overs at work and tried to get to me, overcoming boundaries and limits in our company. It was overwhelming and I thought it was sweet.

Not long after, we got into a relationship but I couldn't help feeling that it was odd. I decided to try it out to maybe see if I can feel again but as the relationship deepens, I found out how broken we both were and how this was not going to work out.

The first red flag was when he sent an email to my bestfriend, the one I just ended a relationship with. You see, my best friend has been sending me emails and though I've read them, I've been avoiding responding as I am still unsure of what to say and how to say it. One day, He sent me a forwarded message. I read it and it brought me to tears. He received an email from the guy I just had started a relationship with, and the contents was just unbearable. I know his aim was to make my best friend understand that we're venturing on to a new relationship. But the act itself was just a dick move. I read the email and it was an ego strokingly vacuous attempt to redeem his position as victor of some contest.

 I cried so hard when I read what followed. It was a message from my best friend saying how he loathes me and how he has lost respect for me. I tried to keep my composure in front of all my friends as I was at work but there came a point where I had to be excused and I cried in a cubicle stall in the toilet. It was unbearable. Up 'til now, I still can't comprehend why he had to go out of his way to do that.

This sparked a long argument and I almost broke up with him. In my head, I thought that I've never met a person who could go so low until I met him. I don't know how but I was somehow convinced that things happen for a reason and maybe this happened so my best friend could move on and find someone more worthy of his love. It was a frail attempt to justify the act and I lived with it, though still defiant about it inside.

After that, I stopped following my bestfriend. I figured it would hurt to keep reading on his updates and stories from a few common friends he didn't know about. I wished him happiness and true love... And then I let go.

I carried on with my life with the new person. It didn't take long before I felt like I needed to let go again. To begin with, it wasn't made to last, but I wanted to try. He represented everything I loathe from a person. And much to my fear, he was exactly like my father.

It was a tiring night when it happened. After talking to his parents, we wrestled through 4 hours of persuasion about why I need to stay and why I am leaving. I've taken precautions and prepared everything for my departure so there should be nothing holding me back except for him, literally pinning me to the wall and the kitchen counter and preventing me from getting to the door. Out of all my relationships, this has been the most physical I've ever gotten. By the time I got home, the first people to greet me were my mom and my brother who were both relieved that I am back home and safe.

After the break-up, I swore I would never be in another relationship again. I don't feel like I belong in one. I don't feel like I deserve one. I'm better off alone. That way, I get to live my life the way I want to and I won't be hurting anyone. It's saving another person from pain.

I am happy now though. I can go out whenever I feel like it. I can hang out with friends. But there's still this empty feeling that bothers me. And it would all go back to that day when I received an email from my best friend. I want to apologize to him for not being able to respond. I kind of want to let him know that I stood up for him somehow. I wanted to make him understand that I didn't really abandon him, that I was always watching and being happy for him that he's doing so much better that I was gone.

Last February, I wanted greet him for his birthday but I didn't feel it was appropriate. I felt that a message from me might ruin, what could have been an awesome day for him and his friends. It's like how you would throw a stone to a quiet pond. The water is clear but as soon as the stone hits the surface, the ripples appear and disrupts the image and as soon as the stone hits the bottom it will cloud the water with earth.

He has established the feeling that he hates me, probably. He has built relationships and friends who would hate me unitedly. A message from me might just ruin that.

I celebrated it alone with Midori instead. At least silently, we would have shared our piece of happiness with him in spirit.

Happy Birthday Daddy Bear - Midori

I want to talk to him again to clear things up but I don't quite know where to start and how to say it. I figured it would be best to talk to him once I could answer my own questions about me. That way, whatever the outcome may be, I would regret nothing.

Everyday, I wallow in the despair of my own creation. Remembering it, is painful enough but re-writing it, is just torture. But I want you to know how it felt. I want to be able to read this blog in the future and feel exactly the same feeling.