Wind-Up

“I don’t know how to start this,” he said. I wanted to help him, but I couldn't.




I have no clue what’s been going on his mind for months now. All we've had were dry exchanges of hi’s and hello’s. But on that day, I know the words he’ll be uttering in a few minutes. I've heard them before. I've uttered them before. I remember the way it will feel but I can never be prepared for it. I couldn’t help him.




“I met someone else.”




I laughed. He must be kidding. I hope.




I instinctively looked around for cameras, caught glimpse of the people around us. Everything seemed normal sans his flushed face. I felt sick on the inside as I begged for it to be a bad joke.




The details of what happened next, now forever etched on my memory. How his hands shook as he went on with his story. How it seemed like hours being on that table with him. How my self-worth dissolved in front of a person I no longer knew.




I had a feeling we could have been just biding our time but no one told me it could be over too soon. That in every crank of the years and the gears and the tears, a screw or two will get loose.




I should have known.

Hit me with your best shot

I was 19 when someone said he liked me. I wasn’t really sure what that meant. I know I’m ugly, I’m awkward, I don’t have cool friends. I’m not one of the boys who get entangled in the scandalous, repressed, messy, and romantic gay dating scene in college. I’m not even a wallflower. Wallflowers attend parties. I’m not even invited to any.

I was so used to hearing how two guys met, dated, hooked up, became official, broke up, and became bitter to each other, eventually. It was an exciting world for good looking guys. I do not belong in that circle. I’m just a bystander.

Hearing someone say that he liked me got me all confused. I mean, what kind of prank is he playing? No one will ever love me. No one CAN ever love me. Somehow in my heart of hearts I understood I’ll grow old alone. And die alone. And I was busy preparing for that moment.

But I didn’t care if his words confused me. For the first time in my life, I’ve become a normal person. I am not THAT ugly, perhaps. Probably even with all my flaws, I can be loved? Is that even possible? I didn’t really care anymore.

Someone said he liked me. Wow.

Seven years from then, saying things have changed is an understatement. EVERYTHING has changed. I am more confident now and I’ve learned that things happen in due time. I know now that I can be loved even with all the shit that I have from time to time. More importantly, I have learned how to love in return.

I understand now that love is sometimes fuelled by too much fiery passion, but as soon as the flames start to mellow, it’s up to the two of you to work things out, enliven the dying ember. That love can say good bye as swiftly as it said hello. That love is too fragile and pure that it should not be dragged in dirt. That love can bring out the best in you. That love can destroy your very being. That love is simply not enough.

Although I live in a different world now, I have to say that the most important things I hold dearly in my heart remained constant. They have kept me sane when the winds are rough and the ground is crumbling from underneath.

In the years to come, I know I’ll learn more from life. I’ll love more, hurt more, bleed more, laugh more, and trust more. I welcome everything. With my head held high.

So life, hit me with your best shot.

Goodbye, my prince

It's been more than three months since we broke up, and although I do not subscribe to that 3-month rule shit, I think it has given us enough time to think - enough time to contemplate about what we need and what we merely want, what we can't live with anymore and what we can't live without. What makes us happy. No more breathing underwater. At least for me, I can stop holding my breath.

But I can't say I've completely healed. I understand that there will still be days that I'll go through quite a number of cycles of hatred, longing, sadness. It will take more months. Years, even. But I hope not.

The scars you left will forever be there, reminders of forced emotional maturity. I know I'll thank you one day for this, but I only have indifference for you today.

Please give me space to breathe, to grow, to move on. I don't need you checking up on me to know how I'm doing. It's just confusing me, making me hate you even more. I don't need to know that you're here, that you are glad to accidentally see me. I can't welcome you with open arms yet. Give me time.

I have no idea how you are doing. I already blocked you in any social media account imaginable. I can only wish you are doing well.

Goodbye, my prince. You gave me unforgettable moments in my life. I will not bury the memories we shared - they will be forever treasured. But I need to make new ones, this time without you.

I don't need a new prince anytime soon, I'd only hurt them. I will just be unfair to them. I'm a big boy now. I can stand on my own two feet planted firmly on the ground. I don't need anyone to sweep me off my feet.

Goodbye, my prince.

Good bye, Dad.

How to reply to an ex

Bearing a wounded heart (and ego) after a breakup is one of the worst tragedies a human being is ever entitled to experience in his lifetime. And inevitably, there will be an instance wherein the erring ex-partner will try to check up on you that will make the pain worse. They might try to continue the communication through text/pm/dm/email/comments. See sample below:

"Hi. Kamusta? Feel better? Just want to check how you are coping."

Yes, dear. It does really hurt. Just merely seeing his name on your phone will put you through another whirlwind of pain and confusion. But ultimately, your reply or an absence of a reply depends on what image you want to portray. Below are options on how to reply to your ex's message based on how you want to be portrayed.


Bitter: I was doing well until you texted.

Super Bitter: Hu u

Squatter: Tangina mo! Kapal ng mukha mo!

Poised: Oddly enough, I'm coping like a pro but I don't know what to make of your text.

Kinda Honest: I've had better days. I've had worse, too. And you?

Unaffected: I'm having sex as of the moment. Will send a lengthy reply after washing my hands.

Dying Inside: Hi! I'm doing well. How are you? :)

In Denial: Mahal na mahal pa din kita. How do I unlove you? :'(

Smart Bitch: *deletes text message*


Note: Thanks to my BFF for the idea and her options.

Temporary blog while I'm still grieving. Er, bitter.

http://mymovingonstory.blogspot.com/2014/01/enter-drama.html