I think we’ve all heard this line before. It’s completely ironic but extremely true when you think about it. I never want to be in the position where I care more than the other person. It should always be 50/50 shouldn’t it? Too bad that’s not how the world works most of the time. Somewhere down the line — you won’t know when or why — but someone will stop caring as much as before and simply stop trying. How do you avoid that? How can either of you avoid something like this? We don’t see the signals no matter how obvious they are sometimes. I never want to become the person who sits at home waiting for that phone call. The person who ends up pouring out all their emotions for someone who doesn’t care anymore. The person who was once so valuable and worth yearning for and is now unappreciated. Maybe that’s why I hold back a lot; because I know that my capacity to care and love can be out of control.
I honestly can’t tell you if it’s imagined, but I’ve always felt a little out of place with everyone. It doesn’t really matter who I’m with. Maybe I’m a little socially stunted like that. Maybe it’s because I’ve always been shy. Maybe it’s because I was a bit of an oddment when I was young and was never the one to take the initiative when it came to making friends, and nobody seemed to want to make friends with me, so I grew up thinking I wasn’t worth being friends with.
It’s not that I didn’t have any friends. (I had a few, and I still do.) But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t grow up lonely. I did. And a lot of the time, I still feel that way. I still feel as though I don’t ever really fit in with anybody. Sometimes I feel like I’m forcing my company on other people, sometimes I feel like folks just put up with me because they have to for some reason or another; because social niceties demand it, because of my family name, whatever.
Maybe it’s something I just made up in my head. (Is my self-loathing that bad, that I won’t let myself believe that people who know me actually like me enough to want me around? Wow, that’s a little depressing.) Maybe it isn’t.
Whatever it is, though, I feel lonely. I always have. I have a feeling I probably always will, and while that saddens me, I find that I’m pretty used to it. (Maybe I’m just one of those lone wolf types.)
Maybe that’s why I read so much. Maybe that’s where my friends are.
There is no point to this, really. I just feel a little lonely, and a little sad, and I needed to get this out, and funnily enough, you guys listen. Maybe I’m a little crazy for sharing something this personal with over 10,000 people, but hey. Maybe you feel the same way. And if you do, well, don’t feel so bad. I feel it, too.
Tell me, exactly how. Of how you want to be taken out from the place where you hate being be, Of how you always wanted the better one, the lighter one.
Of how you wish things never changed.
How memories can sometimes be too painful but so hard to resist.
so tell me exactly how do you want to be saved?
is me.
I was staring at the cold pavement outside the mall. These taxi drivers keep on picking who they want to have a service ride. My high-heels shoes are killing my feet, i’ve been using it for 6 hours now. I should’ve brought my slippers.
I’m feeling cold, inside and out. It’s raining a lil bit, my clothes are wet from the raindrops but I think my heart is even colder tonight.I took out my phone, dialled a number, did I really just dialled his phone number? Oh yeah, i think i did. How will i be mistaken. I memorized it by heart. My hands were trembling, my chest is pounding so hard I thought of hearing a march inside.
“Bon jour.”
I changed my number. With the thought of getting rid of you. But I don’t know, It feels like you already know who’s calling because of you’re usual French phrases. You always say them to me before. What i do not know is if you’re also using it to other girls.
In a deep silent voice, I said, “hello…”
And I start my quest.
I called and gave you an alibi that I want to know about some work matters that night. What you do not know is that I want to get any little piece of assurance, even just a little, any tiny drop of it can make wonders.
I want to know if you will be happy to see me callin your number again. If you’ll get excited once more to hear my voice, to converse with me, to hear me say your name. I wanna hear if you somehow miss me or is thinkin of me.
“Ok, thanks.”
I ended the call. My phone almost slipped from my hand. “Why did I do that?” I cried inside so loud I think someone heard what I said thru my mind.I started walking again. Then I stopped. I look down. Suddenly, drops of water flowed out of my eyes.
It didn’t happen. I didn’t hear any familiar tone in his voice. The tone that was once so high it seems like you’re singing while talking to me. The tone that’s so soft it seems like you’re cradling me with a lullaby.
There you are, talking to me on the phone while you are busy doing something. Making me feel that my call is not important and that you were rushing to end it. Making me feel that I am no longer a part of your life and that i should accept it fully. I am trying don’t worry.
In case you didn’t know. But I am never really sure of myself, as always.
You won. You did it again. Congratulations. You just made me feel that I am the biggest loser. Biggest ex-girlfriend loser.
I will write you letters in invisible ink, sing you songs with my silent lips. If there is a pause in between our breaths, let it be pauses to gasp and catch air as we dim the walls with the shadow of our lips, touching smoothly, gracefully. I will wipe your tears and feel every drop fall against my skin, feel them dripping against my shoulder blades and I shall wish: that I may absorb the melancholy from which you are consumed, from which your well is caused to overflow. I will read you tales until you feel the heaviness in your eyes, light a fire in my embrace until you feel the warmth amidst the cold slits of remorse in the winter of your thoughts.
I will take you to places you’ve never been, to a place where you and I lone shall dwell, where time and space is deemed irrelevant and futile, only us two in our pretend-runaway from the world shall be of significance, shall be composing of our everything — in that place, to that place, we shall go, we shall go.
what if you’ll wake up tomorrow and i am not there anymore?
When you go to work and check out my desk, my things are kep and my computer’s off.
When you pass by the corridors, you won’t hear my daily greetings to the lady guards outside the doors.
What if I’m gone. Will you miss me? Will you realize my importance?
But then, maybe you’ll just not care.
Under the sheets, they made love till 2am.
Said sorry for the mistakes done in the past.
Said “i love you” to each other, but they’re still not together.
They opted to just love each other but still have each other set free…
Deep in her heart, he just don’t know how much she wants to own him…
But love can’t be owned, so as a person.
I am still on the verge of moving on at the moment. I chose to run away from all the hurt because I realized that before I can love other people, I should love myself first.
Currently, I spent my days with my normal routine. Work, home, sleep and eat. Then work, home, sleep and eat and that’s how my everyday life goes.
Hardly no time for dating or what so ever. I’m boring. Hell yeah.
I also stopped talking to him as he probably know now because I am not returning his calls and I don’t reply to his texts anymore. This is my way of liberating myself from the pain of knowing that when he talks to me, he is wishing I was the one he’s currently in love with. But I can’t be her. I can’t be that girl whom he love and left him. (We can compare his stitch to Tom of 500daysofsummer.)
I just can’t be the person you want me to be. And I can’t do that to you either. I can’t tell you to PLEASE LOVE ME AGAIN, or PLEASE COME BACK TO ME.
Things are not that simple as the way it was when we were still kids. When way back you can ask for something, well maybe you can cry first then ask for something, and then you’ll have it. You’re parents will give it to you.
Now were adults, you can beg, you can cry after begging, or beg first then cry, but if things are not meant for you, YOU WON’T HAVE IT. Maybe it’s true that GOD does not give you what you want but rather gives what you DESERVE.
And to that, I guess I don’t deserve you.
