It was a Sunday, when I gave love a chance.
I shared my whole heart. It was another life chapter written. Deep in my heart, I would really like to believe and tell myself that the beginning of the end was on the fourth of February. It was not. The end started in April 2017. It was a slow burn. And burn we did. Pain after pain. Heartaches after heartaches. I remember the last significant word I spoke was "it was good while it lasted." You didn't seem to catch it; I just left it there in the air. Then there were tears, lots of tears, ugly crying, final hugs, and a final kiss. And finally, the last goodbye. What we had was something good. It was easy. It was what other couples aspire to have. Until it no longer was. Until we no longer were. On a Sunday a year and a half later, it ended. A book closed, a new one shall open and shall be written. Thank you for the love, thank you for the experience, and thank you for the lessons. Someday I will look back with a smile on my face and a heart of joy and say, we had something nice. And it was good while it lasted. This too, shall pass. This pain shall heal. These tears shall run dry. I will get up on my feet, back up again. And I will move on. Move forward to a better life ahead.
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Where do I go from here?
I ask myself this a lot lately. Crossroads are supposed to be just that, a road one needs to get or pass through. It should be just a part of the journey. But why does it become the highlight? And why do we, human beings, choose to get stuck here? Why is it so hard for us to choose which road to take? The earth is a scary place. Sometimes we get hurt just by merely occupying a space in this world. Life is hard and there are so many crossroads. But I guess we choose to stay in here to reasses ourselves. To give ourselves time to really feel. To help ourselves. And to heal ourselves. I do not need saving. I could save myself. I do not need pity. Pity is for the weak. I am broken, but I can lick my own wounds. Everyone deserves the time to just be. The time to feel. The time to let life just fuck you over. And finally, the time to stand up and heal. Someday I will probably look back, and tell myself that you did good. You needed that time to feel, that time to wait, and that time to cry. You will get out of it stronger and wiser. Trust me. Oh, and I love you. For now, I am choosing to be here at the crossroads. To feel and lick the wounds I sought for and brought on to myself. I deserve the time. I need this time. How long, I do not know. Someday. One day. I will move forward. But not yet. When 2016 has been the worst year for a lot of people around the world, I can say that it is one of the most memorable for me. I have accomplished quite a bit on my bucket list. I received a lot of blessings, I love more, let go of things, including people, and finally, I learned more about myself. As I turned 29 last March, I pondered upon these experiences and listed down the 29 things I’ve learned.
Written down somewhere in the cache and history of the interweb is a blog post dedicated to yours truly. Fast forward to a couple of years later, I stumbled upon this blog again. Hence, I am featuring it here on gtakesontheworld! Talk about some ego boost for me haha! An Open Letter of Appreciation March 10, 2014October 20, 2015 / geekypaul This is an open letter to one of the best people I have ever known, and one of the few I have ever loved. Hold it right there; loving someone doesn’t mean romanticizing things out of proportion. It isn’t even exclusive to erotic attraction toward another person. In more ways than one, professing love for someone else can simply mean showing your utmost appreciation for the person’s existence and the very existence of your relationship. And for that matter, this is an open letter of appreciation for a certain someone. A letter of love. Some years ago I met a woman who I immediately associated with unconventional Bohemian flair. The dress she wore evoked an intrinsic eye for detail and I’ll-wear-what-I-want-to attitude. Ballsy, I thought. That first impression, though, admittedly didn’t immediately translate to a friendship, despite the fact that I am also an avant-garde person at heart. Her aura struck me as that of a no-nonsense woman who hates bullshits and stupidities; and being an at-times cocky person that I am, I kept my distance. It would take probably a couple of things in common (admiration for Jason Mraz and the Backstreet Boys; inclination for music; affinity for war films; hatred for Justin Bieber) before our conversations took off and we became friends. So good, in fact, that there were times we would decipher each other’s thoughts and finish each other’s sentences (not ‘sandwiches’, you Frozen lover). As we became closer by the minute, she would become my living embodiment of a thinking man’s crumpet; because apart from the physical elegance that she radiates, her brains are like that of someone who can trump you anytime, without prior notice. Her intellect…damn. Her quick wit and knowledge base impressed me in no time. From her high-pitched opinions to her scientific knowledge, she seemed like someone who would never speak when she doesn’t know a thing; and being the saphiosexual that I am, I found that very, very attractive. It was platonic love for me, however. Boo, you might say. Well, it never crossed my mind to fall for her, because that would feel like reaching farther than what your arms could. She was more than enough, and she obviously deserved someone who could at least match her, head to toe. I’m not that one. But with our friendship, I feel just as blessed that we are very good friends. She would eventually become my confidant: my work spouse. I already knew from the moment we got along that our personalities would clash as frequent as our kindred souls would enjoy each other’s company. We talk about almost anything there is—except love. I guess she’s just as put off as I am regarding the topic. C.S. Lewis once said that a ‘friendship is born at that moment when one man says to another: “What! You too? I thought that no one but myself…”’. This perfectly summarizes my friendship with her. She understands my shenanigans and utter idiosyncrasies and, in certain instances, even takes part in them. On the other hand, she’s never the type to shy away from pulling the trigger either, contradicting me if necessary and shutting me up by displaying her more in-depth discernment in some aspects. Her bitchiness is maddening at times, to the point of hopelessness; but hey, friends really get on our last nerve, right? And they know they can get away with it. Her calm-and-collected aura is a foil to my coarse personality toward others; although sometimes, as noted previously, her abrasiveness could be worse. We’ve also kind of mastered how to keep calm when one of us loses our cool and I have grown to like that sudden adjustment. However, there’s a tightrope walk between the strengths and fragilities of our friendship—a thin line that would take me a while to comprehend. With her, I could either be learned or ignorant; calm or belligerent; an aggressor or a wuss. Yes, like any other friend out there, there are times when she would exasperate me with her thoughtless words; but so would anybody’s blood brothers and sisters, right? She would frustrate me—many times a day at some points, in fact—but at the end of the day, I would rather have her company than what most other people could offer. Why am I writing this in the first place? I don’t know. She doesn’t even know I’m doing this in appreciation for the friendship I’ve been enjoying with her these past few years. Maybe I just want to share all the happy thoughts. I mean, I’ve experienced some of my misadventures with her and even opened up some of my personal trials to her. I know some of them she couldn’t really relate to, but her mere presence takes a substantive weight off my shoulders. It’s not like I’m married to the thought of having someone to rely on; but having someone like her, however inattentive or uninterested she might seem at times, is a welcome benefit of being somebody’s friend. Yes, we are not lovers (you should really look and listen to her contemptibly dispel people’s two cents about us ending up together. She looks funny); and as far as I believe, she’s available (wait, this is pimping, right? Oh well). With a lending ear, honest-to-goodness candor, and unbelievable maturity for a woman her age, she fits many other guys’ dream of a good girlfriend. If only I could love her that way, I would. Either way, I just feel so fortunate to have met someone as awesome and lovable as she is, and I hope she sees me the same way. As far as I can tell, I’m writing this to thank her for being awesome. I feel so privileged to have known a part of her, despite her having a select group of people whom she trusts and confides in. You just turned 26, buddy. Stay as bubbly and complicated as you have always been. Here’s hoping life would shower you with more blessings, and ultimately the happiness that someone as lovable as you rightfully deserves. This post originally appeared on this blog with minor edits.
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About GAn RN-turned-copy-editor, dreamer and lover of all life, taking on the world, G-style. Archives
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