Letters from Our Broken Hearts

 

…because at least once in our lives, we have been crushed, we have been scathed, we have been broken. And although those memories have already been erased, getting them out of our heart’s a whole different story.

Dear You,

“For those who were brokenhearted last 2013, things will only get better, sooner or later”

Tell those words straight to my face and tell me things would get better. Tell me everything would be fine when my world starts to crumble. Right before your eyes, I’m getting miserable.

It is so much easier said than done. When all you’ve ever done is end this game you’ve grown tired of playing. Just like that, I’ve been reduced to being just a stranger, stripped of every right care, denied of every right to claim.

You held my heart the whole time. For six months, I’ve been a puppet on a string. You became a dictator and I was your willing victim, a slave at your disposal. I’ve put up with everything that came up – your busy work schedule, your night outs with friends “you can’t miss”, your sisters’ recital, your dad’s musical, your occasional tantrums, your unnecessary incidentals. I’ve been very understanding for goodness sake but like your old wagon which often breaks down, we’ve become dysfunctional.

I know it must have been hard to be with me, too. I’ve turned selfish and greedy. Could you blame me if I yearn for your attention? Is it my fault to beg for time and affection? I’ve been desperate, I’ve been needy but I swallowed every bit of pride left on my system. I want to make things work, but then again, it didn’t.

Our relationship – if there was ever an “us” – eventually ran its course and I should now let go. Will it ever be easy? No. Will I ever be ok? Yes, but not in the near future. I’ve invested on what I thought is serendipity. I thought I saw my future in you, that I’ll end up with you.

You asked me once if I will marry you and I said I’ll eventually do. But God had other plans for us. And that is we are neither part of each other’s future. It is comforting to know that breaking up with you is a step closer on me finding The One. Until then, we owe it

Devastated,

Me

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Dear Me,

Get lost. Get out of my hair. Why? Because I want to, because I can. I’ve seen it before and really, it will never work.

Obstreperous,

You

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Dear You,

You don’t know how much courage it takes for me to stay calm and collected. You don’t know how hard it is for me to put on an act every day; that I am ok, that I have no problems at all. You don’t know how much time it took me just to accept the fact that I can no longer be with you. And you, you’re just there, unsurpassed, intact, nothing has changed, and you are still you.

Fuck you. Fuck you and your words. Tell me it will never work out when I did everything just to make things work. I’ve been thru hell and back just to give you what you want. I gave you everything I can when I can’t give anything for myself. My whole world would stop when you would call me and I would rush to wherever you are just so that you don’t have to wait. Tell me it will never work. It won’t because you can’t make it work on your end.

How hard it is for you to text me or message when you have your whole day on your bed just watching those goddamn movies? How hard it is for you to give me some attention when you would always update your status almost every half quarter? I waited, waited long enough to realize that I was a just blind guy waiting for some light that will never come.

I gave up on the fact that I will never ever be your #1 priority. I was not even close to being any of your priorities. I’ve been a backup plan just in case your friends would ditch you out. I was your last resort when you’re bored to death and you just want to go out. I’ve always been your last choice and I was succumbed to that fact.

I’ve practically waited my whole life for someone to come into my life and make sense of all these mess. Order in chaos; someone to organize my fed-up entropy. And I really thought it was you. But shit happened and I didn’t see it coming.

Whatever I said, I did or I felt that night, I won’t take it back. Because that’s the time I’ve been sincerest to you.

Out of all the girls I’ve ever loved before, to you I have been most honest, most vulnerable and most broken. So A, unfriend me please and take me out of this bliss.

Throwing out the towel,

Me

Twisted Fate

“So ano ng balak mo? Di ka na babalik ng Manila?”

“Dito na muna ko sa Bicol. Wala na kong planong bumalik. Masaya naman na ko dito”

               Then it hits me. I was no longer in your plans. I will no longer be included in your future. There will never be you and me.

                It was rather an ordinary night. I was lying in my bed, trying to sleep when someone called. It was just a number. And it looked too familiar to ignore. For once, I was dumbfounded. I don’t exactly know what to say, I don’t know what to feel. Emotions rushed, those proverbial feelings I had then set in.  It was you. I knew it was you.

                I was playing it cool when you called me up again. I wanted to hug you; I wanted to say how much I missed you. But all I ever said was to never leave again.

                It was exactly a year ago when I almost fell in love with you. Your voice, not the most relaxing but it was placid and cute. The way you sing me the songs I don’t even know existed. The way you narrate how your day went by and I just listened.  Those times when you push me to do things I’m not really sure I can do. Those nights when you tell me you will always be here for me and that you’ll never leave me. But you did leave. I was left there hanging, damaged and scathed.

                Call me stupid, call me crazy but the thing is I never really met you. Aside from all the feelings I invested, all I can even remember from you was this picture you had a black sando on and you sitting comfortably on the driver’s seat. I don’t even know your full name. Or should I say I don’t even know if that was your real name. They say you can’t fall for someone you barely know. I did. And I have no regrets falling for you.

                But so many things happened in between. Too many that I don’t even know if we’ll be able to catch up with each other’s life. We screwed up our shot at love. I wanted something tangible and concrete and you can’t give me that, I thought. You wanted to wait for you till you are ready but I can’t. I wish you could make up your mind and prove me right. Until then, you will just and always be my favorite “what if”.

(c) http://www.soulshepherding.org/tag/lonely/

Why we should not beg for love?

         
                So he left you. You cry, you mourn, and you grieve. Devastated, you start to question yourself. What have you done? Where did you go wrong this time?  Will you ever be good enough for anyone? Then, you beg. You beg for a second chance, you beg for one last time to prove your worth. You beg for forgiveness even if it was never your fault. You just dropped down on your knees and beg.

                And you just can’t take no for an answer. So you trap him in a corner and you insist on making him love you back. You gave in to that idea that what you had was the real deal, true love, serendipity. You convinced yourself that the world conspired for your relationship to happen and you just would not give up. You just would not let go of “THE One”. And just like that, you are down in the dumps again.

               Why do we keep on begging for love even if it makes us feel miserable?

   Because it’s extremely addicting. All these hunting and chasing is addicting. You chase, you force someone to like you, you feed yourself to the dragons hoping that some sparks could enflame your burning desire for love. Then you hurt yourself in the process because no one takes your bait.

                Because everyone is blinded with false hope. You cling to what we think is real, you tighten your grip to what you perceive is love. You make sense of even the tiniest of things as tangible proofs for your growing illusions. You hold one to that idea that one day, he wakes up and he might fall for you. But all those sh*t are just that, wishful thinking and mere illusions.

                Because you think you only have one shot at love and you don’t want to ever lose that chance. You will do everything to keep him even if he’s not yours in the first place. You’re so scared to let go of him that you start to impose yourself on to him. You incarcerate him and confine him in your own little world. You resist accepting the fact that he can never love you back.

                Stop begging. Every time you beg for love, you quash your self-respect. You attack your own dignity. You deprecate your own worth. You drain away your power and you let other people mistreat you.

   You should give yourself a legit chance to love and be loved. You should not cling on to the past and move on. You should not give someone a second chance when all along there is someone way better waiting for his first. Stop begging for his love when all it ever gives you was pain. When a man truly loves you, he pursues you. You should love yourself above everything else. You owe it to yourself not to beg.

               At the end of the day, love is something we should not plea for, it is for free. It’s not something that we need to earn, we deserve it. It is not a ransom, we should not bargain for anything less than our worth

   Stop begging. You should know your worth.

Of Life Lessons and Pusoy Dos

 

 

          
                One thing I probably missed the most in college would be playing Pusoy Dos at the tambayan. Well, after hours of “intrepid” studying and “vigilant” listening to our terror professors, we usually treat ourselves with a game or two of arguably the most popular game then during our time. Not saying that gambling is or was ever tolerated in UP, but we just play money-less, wholesome card game for fun, pride and bragging rights.

                Fortunately for me, I learned how to play Pusoy Dos when I was just five, the same time I learned how to play piko, tumbang preso and moro-moro. By staying up late at night and watching our card expert elderlies in Zambales (re: “sugarol”) play that tricky game, I already mastered the game that young. And I probably owe it to Pusoy Dos why I have a certain liking for numbers and in Math, in general. But that’s not the only thing I learned from that exciting game. I have learned some valuable lessons in life and love throughout all the hands that I have been dealt with before.

                I learned how to honor hierarchy and order. There are rules you have to follow and there is a hierarchy that has to be kept to have an organized society. A full house can never beat a straight flush. Though some rules may vary like what suits beat what, I will always believe that Hearts will always be better than Diamonds.

                I learned how to take risks. Your cards have been kept secret for a reason – you should know how to strategize and take calculated moves. You can only hold on to your card for so long. Sometimes, you have to give up your two of spades to get rid of your pair of threes. You have to go out of your comfort zone to open up for new possibilities.

                I learned how to not be too arrogant. Even with four two’s and three aces, you can never be sure that you have the winning hand. You should always stay humble and grounded. You shouldn’t not get too excited and start to brag about how good your cards look. No matter how lucky you get, no matter how excellent you have been, you should always play the game the same, you treat all your hands as if they were just plain.

                I learned about timing and discipline. You can’t throw a pair of aces after a pair of kings when everybody already passed on their turn. You shouldn’t play a four of a kind and play a queen as your kicker. You should know when to throw a straight hand then back it up with a royal flush. Timing is everything. You should know when to strike and go for the kill.

                I learned how to control my emotions. You can never get too emotional when playing cards. When people see that crack in your character, they will target that weakness and attack you mercilessly. Your emotions should be consistent and apparent; you should be sure of yourself and confident with every move. Plus you can only bluff so much.

            Finally, I learned that life is about dealing with cards you are given. We cannot control whatever hand you would be dealt with. But just because you think you are not given the right cards, you should complain and give up. Remember the cards you’ve been given is purely by fate but how you play your cards is your own free will. Like how American writer Jack London would put it, “Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but sometimes, playing a poor hand well.”

(c) image from http://screen-wallpapers.com/wallpapers/view/2729

Northern Star

The scent of freshly cut red roses still lingers as I pass by your workplace today. It was weird to see such a beautiful arrangement there on your table because you never liked roses. You were a Gaga, not a Perry, you mentioned. In our three year “secret” relationship, you always wanted something different, something rather unusual. I remembered how you love staring at the sky at night and you feel as if the stars were there to guide you. So I gave you this nice bouquet of white and pink stargazer lilies that I ordered online from Manila Blossoms. It was perfect birthday gift and they have been your favorite since.

I must have been dreaming but I saw you flashed that smile as you glance at these flowers at your desk.  That same smile I see every time I hold your gentle hands, that same smile I see whenever I kiss your cute little nose, that same smile I saw when I finally put that ring on your petite finger.  

Oh that moment! You thought it was just another fancy dinner. But I arranged something special for you that night. PHgifts delivered our little Patrick and Chloe teddy bear in their wedding attire; I asked a friend to dress in a priest’s robe and had your band play “Bless the Broken Road” by Rascal Flatts. As I knelt down I looked at your welled dope eyes and stuttered,” This is how I want my wedding to look like, the way I want my future to look like- you, me and our own little family”. And you said yes, the sweetest yes I ever heard in my entire life. But fate is really a bitch. Just when you thought you have it all figured out, a bigger hand plays a trick on you and your whole world trembles.

Your mom must have really hated me so much to not allow me to see you for the very last time. She knew me from law school but not as you fiancé. Your white stargazers on my hand wilted as I waited for hours outside for that one final chance to say my piece. But that chance never came. A fractured arm and a bruised body felt nothing compared to a broken heart pleading for forgiveness. 

It’s been a year now and I am still picking up the shattered pieces of once a lovely fairy tale shared between us. I never said goodbye. I can still you in your desk talking to your clients about their cases. I can still see you in my dreams and talk me through some rough times. It is a long climb up there to recover but I know I am on my way in to your loving arms.

And in this dark lonely night, I look at the sky cause I know you will be there, you’ll point me on my way to where I should go and guide me through my life. So this is for you, with your stargazers on my hand, I miss you my Northern Star.

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Not really my own personal story but based on real life events.

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I just can't write anymore.