Keeping myself sane

My ex, the one I was in a relationship with the longest, and I talked last night. Throughout the course of our conversation, we happened to talk about how we used to be as a couple.

I asked him about how I was as a boyfriend. He recalled how much I was in love, how swept off my feet I was. And in those moments, I did make him feel like he was the only person I would love.

He talked to me about how he would text me the plate number of the bus he was in, so I could wait for it in the bus stop and we could be together on our way to school. It didn’t matter if we were going to be 45 minutes late for my 8 AM class and that I might possibly miss a quiz, which I did for a number of times; what mattered was that we were together on our way to school.

He reminded me of my “grand gestures”  and how we met secretly after class, because we couldn’t risk anyone seeing us. But we did end up risking everyone seeing us.

Then he told me how fragile my love was. How I tolerated the difficulties at first but ultimately let go because of them. There were certain things I just couldn’t look past at, and it ultimately led to the demise of the relationship. That was one mistake he did, and it was one mistake that drove me away. And I never looked back hence.

I wasn’t surprised by this, since it seems to have become a habit of mine when it comes to relationships. There are certain things that must be corrected in the relationship, lest I fall out of love. I may not know myself well enough, but that’s always been my breaking point—whenever the going gets a little too tough for me, I get out of it altogether.

I didn’t need to hear it from him, but I needed his confirmation. I needed to hear his words. Because that’s precisely what I need right now—to take comfort in the fact that once in the far future, I will be able to move forward and get a hold of myself.  That I can forget and never look back and maybe if I’m lucky, be delusional  enough to believe that relationships like this can work. It’s what I need to keep myself sane.

Don't leave me hanging

There are days when I’m so sure quitting is the only way out. And then, by some stroke of unfortunate hope, I find myself crawling back. Wounded, but hopeful nonetheless. It’s basically a cruel cycle of optimism and misery, hoping that one day, for reasons unknown, he'd suddenly make up his mind. And that he'd choose me.

But at this point, I just want an answer.

Leave me or stay. Just fucking choose.

Recent events

I went on a random date last Saturday. He was a nice guy, but it's no big secret I already had somebody else in mind. Why did i do it? Among a few reasons at the top of my head is the need to feel desired. Of course, there was no guarantee that my date would like me--but I'm glad he did.

He told me I was too proper and that I should open up. He told me that I should have fun, then proceeded to ask me personal questions about how I am as a lover, what I'm looking for in a partner, and things I don't really think deserve an answer on the first date. By the end of the date, he concluded that I was an abrasive guy (but strangely enough, this didn't stop him from "attaching" to me).

I know that he's not exactly right. I may not be the type to blend easily in conversations. I get annoyed at the smallest things. I don't like being forced to do things that I don't like. But give me the right person, and I'll talk about my dreams, my private thoughts, my insecurities, and my unsolicited drama. I could be someone's best.

***

I went on a funeral of a friend's mom a couple of weeks back. Forgive me for sounding self-absorbed, but don't deaths and funerals make us realize how short our time here is? It can be as soon as tomorrow on my way to school, or a few weeks as I'm writing this. Mindblowing, that we can't really ever know when our time is up.

The point is: life is short. It's a simple enough fact, but a lot of people seem to forget it, including me. Life is short, so what's the point of sweating over the small things? Life is short, so why should we worry so much about what other people think at the expense of what will really, really make us happy? Life is short, so why do we allow ourselves to go through the motions and not give the very best in every endeavor?  Why don't we pursue what we really want? Why do we permit ourselves to get hurt when it's plainly unnecessary?

It is for this reason that I've decided (1) to actively work on worthwhile relationships and people, and (2) just go for it, which really just means that I should be more spontaneous. Haha.

I just don't want to be the person who wounds up at his deathbed, regretting all the failed relationships and endeavors he could've worked out by simply trying a little bit harder.