Wednesday, February 20, 2008

I was not supposed to be home this weekend, but just this morning I decided with all certainty that I do really deserve a rest - a relaxed mind, away from the city's sonorous din. I want to have a peaceful surroundings before I bear the torturous ordeal of this semester's prefinal exams.
Yes! All I ever wanted is the serenity of the mind - nothing else. But tonight, as I lay myself to sleep in the familiar embrace of my room, a never-forgotten memory of a past I want to diminish from my thoughts came to me, brandished itself in front of me - laughing, taunting me in utter mockery.
I want to go downstairs to elude such a defiling insult from this hurtful memory and to find solace in my mother's reassuring words, but fear overwhelms me, and I don't want to barge in my parents' room just to spill out the agony of the heart-wrenching pain my heart continues to suffer with for 2 years now. So, I endure the hex of that memory all by myself.
Earlier tonight, I got 5 bars of chocolate from my mother's choco jar. Actually, I didn't have any idea that I'd be eating them wholeheartedly this midnight, for I am, indeed, in sheer melancholy. It's a classic and a very stereotyped attitude to nibble on chocolates to be in the same euphoric state of being in love, and tonight I'm munching on chocolates because I'm quite blue, very much.
I am wide awake but dreaming...
I am going to tell you of an another kind of Valentine story, but this one isn't fictional, it's real, for it happened to me, and the quick yet hellish pain of that starcrossed and fateful love still castigates my so-wounded heart - a vexing pain that oerpetually consumes my hope for true love into a dying ember.
The story began in the night he texted me that all of his life he loved me, since we were just six years old. I restrained myself from laughing, to no avail. For me, it's quite ridiculous, but he kept on insisting that he was, he is, and he will for the rest of his life. I gave up, but still scrupulous, knowing him, huh?!
He texted me every minute of tha day until I became used to it. He was in Iloilo and I was in Roxas. That textmessaging blossomed into something really special, but still, I did not trust him, with his sugary-sweet and honey-drooled romantic words. He seemed too good to be true, err... too true to be good.
I had known him sine childhood, and he was a rascal! He loved teasing me, calling me names that I abhorred indignantly. He was an epitome' of haughtiness in any sense when we were still small kids.
I hadn't got a chance to get a load of him in high school, most, that I wasn't interested in him, or in the teenage guy he'd become, but, of course, I admit that he'd grown to be somebody I'd never expected him to be. At the age of 15, he was already a ladykiller, yet though I was amused of that metamorphosis in his being, I could never let myself going bananas for him, for he still remained to be that foolish creep who was really fond of getting into my nerves.
One morning, I didn't know what would be the appropriate reaction I'd make when I received a love letter from the last person I could think of - from him! Of course, I didn't believe every word he had written in that letter (that letter is still in the secrecy of my most personal and treasured possessions), duh, what a sordid penmanship he had! I knew that it was one of his nonsensical jokes and I was not silly enough to play along with his game.
Since then, we hadn't see each other. Years passed and I became apathetic of his existence. I was busy living in my side of the world, having no ideas of what kind of life he was living with.
At the height of Halaran's feisty gala in 2003, I bumped into him! He was with a girlfriend aat that time. Yes, I was quite more than surprised to see him very much different 3 yeras ago! He was the guy any girl could pine for - tall, fair, handsome, with a body to die for, plus, his eyes, that the thought of those beautiful assets of him gives a feathery sensation in my stomache.
That meeting was not momentous at all, for he was busy with his girl and I was busier partying with my friends. We met again in the summer of 2004, an April morning when the world was changing so was my feelings for him. I missed his bullying, which he never dared of doing again. He seemed to be a complete stranger to me, and because of that, I built a gap between us.
In August 2004, that night, yes, the culmination of this valentine story. I never expected that he'd call me up and told me that he was in love with me, even before. I was confused. He tried to explain what had happened and I listened. He wanted us to be a couple when he wrote me that letter but he was afraid that the miserable thing (his famnily problem) might make things worse and I would reject him for whgo he is.
I was speechless, silently debating with myself. It was pointless. What was he expecting from me? What would happen now? We both didn't know. Sometimes, it's very hard to accept people as they really are. Our expectations force them to be dishonest to others and most, of all, to themselves. I asked myself if I was mature enough to accept him (we were seventeen at that time). Maybe I was, maybe not. But it's worth trying, wasn't it? Besides, I'd realized lately thast I had extraordinary feeling for him - it's something wonderful - a lot like love.
I was happy knowing someone cared for me. The first time we met again (after 4 months) a mere handshake sent thousand of volts all throughout my numb system. His smile was perfect. and his eyes, ohmigosh! I was exceedingly thrilled! He was gorgeous, far different from the nasty six-year old I used to stuck my tongue out to eleven yeras ago.
I had to confess I had a boyfriend at that time, but to exist the moment I laid eyes on him. Since then I started to call him MINE. Yes, he was mine!
We secretly went out, hoping that each time we kissed, or feelings would deepen, leadiung to somtheing stronger and eternal. I became so trusting, so open, heedlessly giving in to something very prcarious. I considered each time we kissed, every hug we shared, and every walk we took as something very special. All those times spent with him were pure happiness and I thought, endless
I broke up with my boyfriend, and the two of us became you-know-what. Right then, everything seemed right. I was in total bliss in his arms. It was perfect.
Again, I had to admit that when I transfered in CPU, it was because of him. I wanted to be closer to him. I even let go of the opportunity to settle my LOA at the UP due to my desire to be near him. We were happy. We were used to be.
He was so sweet and I enjoyed every moment spent with him. But, he became very pssessive of me. He was jealous of nithing, of no one in particular. I felt choked by his love, but I accustomed myself into it, and sometimes, it felt very nice knowing that he couldn't afford to lose me. Yet, there were times that I felt like revolting. I knew I was wrong - very stupid. I was very upset of him those days that I found myself agreeing on a clandestine meeting with my ex. When that meeting came into his notice, we fought over it. The first and the bigest quarrel that ignited between us. At that moment, I'd learned that he had several girls at his disposal. I loathed him, but still loved him more deeply. He said that he loved me so mush tat losing me to another guy was hell. We sat back and talked, pretending that nothing unusually painful had happened. I was swept back into his arms. The hurt was gone whenb he told me that he loved me so much.
He was traumatized of his mom's infidelity. She left her family and ran away with another guy. His dad was devastated, so were he and his sivlings. He didn't want to experience the pain his dad suffered. I promised not to leave him ever.
I thought nothing would ever come between us and put an ened to our happiness, until my family learned about our relationship and they were against with itr. I was alarmed that our once so happy relationship would be threatened to end now that my family knew about it. I didn't want to lose him, never. My mother gravely opposed because she was told of my boyfriend's reputation regarding his infamous dealing with girls. She talked me out of it. I lied, yes, I lied to save the relationship. I told her that I had already called it quits with hi a long tme ago.
When he learned of the situation, he suggested that we'd resort to something that would make my parents dfenselkess. When I first heard his idea, I was dumbstruck, in horror and in surprise. I hesitated to agree, thinking of the consequential consequences we would be facing inevitably, but I couldn't afford to let him go. I loved him that much, most that he was handsome as sin himself. I blindedly agrred, but eventually, the fear of the high risk of our future, fortunately came to my salvage. I backed out. He hugged e and we were both in tears, holding each other tightly.
He proposed marriage at that very night. I was overjoyed. After that joy subsided, I was again afraid of our tomorrow. I was afraid of early pregnancy, unemployment, miserable life and other circumstantial cruelties we're possibly be facing in the days to come, but I agreed with him. What mattered at that time was our love.
Plans were made for our elopement. I was nervous and excited, very anxious of the day when he's going to be actually and totally mine.
A week of not receiving an SMS, a call, or a visit from him bothered me that much. So, one night, I was reaching out to heaven when he called me up. A call that crushed me terribly - a call that is still clear in my ears - a call that told me that it was just not meant to be. He called it quits between us.
He ended our relationship because he said, he was told by my friend that I was pregnant. We never had sex. So how could it be? He felt betrayed by me. It came to me in a total shock. I was tongue-tied, but tears fell endlessly, cascaded likje emeralds in the starless sky. He was out of breath the moment he finished delvering hios words. He hated me calling me just like his mom. That call ended with me having no words uttered. I ran to the bathroom and took a shower at 1:00 am. I was harrowingly hurt. I cried in anguisg and bewilderment. I could hear myself in drastic loss and deafening lamentation. I kept asking myself over and over again, "HOW COULD SOMETHING SO RIGHT BE COMPLETELY GONE?"
The next night, I received an SMS from him, telling me that he was sorry and that he should have given me a chance to explain, and that he loved me even more. I wanted to be back in his arms, for us to be together, but I was an egomaniacal bitch. I clung to my pride. I told him that I needed time to think it over if it's best to reconcile with him. I asked for space, for I was reallky hurt that he never trusted me and even believed in rumors.
It took me sometime to hold on to my pride. After the time I felt I was ready to be back in his circle, I was too late, very. I texted him, telling himn that I wanted to see him that afternoon, he told me that he was out, he'd be going to the city with cousins, I told him it's much better that we'd see ecah other in the city, instead. He didn't reply.
Still, I went to Arevalo to check on him, but he wasn't there, but, I waited until dusk. When I knew that he won't be back early that night, I decided to go back inb Jaro. I dropped at the mall in La Paz to buy some things for school, when,...whew... that scene still gives me pricks of aches. I saw him with an another girl. His arm was on the girl's shoulders. Instantly, I felt the pain surging through my entire being. I wanted to run away from that heartbreaking display of blatant insult that humilkiated me.
I could see his face turned pale when he recognized me. In spite of the building pain in my bruised heart and tattered ego, I maintained my composure and acted like I was quite all right - not affected and beamed my devil-may-care smile. I walked towards their direction in the counter' he smiled at me, obviously, he was uncomfortable. His girl was oblivious of the tension between me and him.
I approached him just like a longtime-no-see friend, he was trying to give me his explanations, but I was cutting him in midsentence to cover up my own uneasiness. Everything he was saying by that time was unclear to my hearing but the thing about his girl was downright clear to me up to this day - that they've been together for 2 years already.
I felt like I was being bombed. And in any time I'd explode in bitterness. I wanted to hate him, but my love for him illumined that fury that resided within me. I laughed a fake guffaw and slapped him soundly on the face, as if a joke, telling him that he could go to hell with his girl and I won't even care. We expressed those words in a laughing tone that no one would suspect that the pain was real.
I held my head high, chin up, and sashayed out of the mall like I owned the world, and after two minutes of owning that world, I broke into a cacophonous wailing the moment I boarded on a taxi. The driver looked at me with an indescribable face. I didn't care, I cried even louder.
I drowned myself in vidka and beer that sorrowful night. I was torn and jadfed. I met a man in his mid-50's that night. He asked me why I was so downhearted. I unashamedly told him of my sad plight, he listened intently, and with a warm smile, he gave me an advice, just like the one a kindly uncle would give...
"Don't wastre your life, child... he's just a guy, always remember, there are a lot of fishes in the ocean, but be sure that you'd catch the best among them all." I meditated on his words.
It took a while for me to forget him. It was so hard to go on, to stop thinking of the what-ifs. Doomed with my thoughts, I simply stopped debating with myself, knowing it was hopless to try to find the answers to all my questions. But, still I couldn't move on. Call it coincidence but one night, I was riding on a jeepney from one of the drinking sprees I'd been attending lately, I was the sole passenger when the jeepney stopped and two guys boarded on - of all he people, it was him and his cousin.
He greeted me, I just stuck my tongue out on him. He laughed. His cousin transfered on the front seat and I was alone with him. The driver had an idea of what was happening between us that he intensified the stereo, and Aerosmith's 'DON'T WANNA MISS A THING' filled the balmy air as we passed the streets of Villa.
He sat closer to me, and before I could keep dstance from him, his arms enveloped me in a tight-fitting embrace. That instant, I wanted to burst into tears. I loved him still, we were silent for a while, tears rolled down my eyes. He asked me if I was okasy, I told him that I was more than all right. He kissed me on my cheek to my surprise. He asked me if I had a new boyfriend, I said yes, for I was really seeing and exclusively dating a guy who happened to be his schoolmate.
He kissed me again. I struggled to be free of him, I was just hurting myself. He wanted us to talk but I told him that I was drunk, and theree\ was an urge to puke. We separated that night with him kissing me one more time on the lips. It was a very short kiss, but the effect was heavenly. I cried inwardly. I missed him so much. That night he texted me, he desperatekyt wanted me back. I cursed him.
Days passed and he was still bugging on me. But this time, I was more stubborn. I didn't give it a chance. My pride was jaundiced, so was my heart. Despite the overpowering desire of wanting him back, I was in doubt to compromise myself into another chance tat didn't have an assurance that I'd be happier and won't be hurt again.
I completely ended everything between us. It was very hary but I knew I had to. But, after all those months of having no communication, I still hoped that someday our love will triumph, and we will end up together as we've planned before.
Since then, I didn't see him again.
June 13, 2004... my heart leaped a thousand miles in joy as my sister told me that she met up with him and that he asked about me. I thought it was a sequel to our love story. Again, I was hopeful, only to be dismayed the next day when my bestfriend told me that my ex was getting married for he impregnated a girl(the one I'd seen with him at the mall).
I was told that the wedding was planned but was postponed because he didn't want to, fr a reason that concerned me. But, for aome reasons, still, it took place. They were married and I was marred.
I'm not going to tell you of the gory details anymore, for they just torment me. But just like any other girl, I was wanting him back, but see, that would just be quite impossible. Everyday for me is one big nightmare. I walk, go to school, talk, l.augh, everyday but feel I am asleep. Wide awake but dreaming, so to speak, and I would like to snap out of that dream already to get on with my life.
Though I completely love him still, I'd take the slowest and the right gradual process of forgetting him. I don't want to see him again, though it's inevitable for us to come across with each other, but I don't want to see him when the wound still swells with too much consuming pain. The agony I suffer right now is unbearable, yet I have to endure it. I have to for the sake of my quest for a brighter view of the horizon.
TO E..... thank you... I've learned a lot from the relationship... I've drained my tearducts because of you... as I write this part a song fro Bellefire, I'LL NEVER GET OVER YOU is being played on the radio and it intensifies the infernal pain in my heart.
I have to admit that I'm having a hard time accepting the fact that we are not meant to be. I don't want to waste all the words in my vocabulary just to shot you with all the aches that pinch my heart with, for they are now in vain - we could never be ending up together and fgor the very last time I say this to you... I LOVE YOU SO MUCH...I don't know until when...
I'm now nursing a broken heart, recuperating from the fatal scratch a two-edged lancet of life's reality has inflicted on me...well, all I can say is...not all love stories have a happy ending, yet, I'm grateful that even though I've been hurt, I LOVED TRULY...In love it's not doing the best thing but the right one.

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