Everything was just fine. You were content in every sense of the word. Then one day there was a knock at the door and it was your old friend, Feelings. For many of us, we’ve been avoiding Feelings like the plague. We say, “What are you doing here? I haven’t been responding to your calls or texts for a reason.” But Feelings just wants to hang out, spend a little time – do some catching up. It sounds like a dreadful idea. You know how this ended last time. It’s not that you don’t enjoy Feelings’ presence. It has more to do with the fact that Feelings always brings an uninvited guest.
You cave, allowing Feelings to come in. You’ll do a lot of reminiscing. Recalling happy times from the past, debating why you stopped being such good friends. You both know why, but you’ll dodge that discussion to avoid spoiling the positive environment you and Feelings are currently in.
You’re a cautious person, but by spending time with Feelings you’ve slightly changed your thinking. Feelings’ friend Hope needs shelter, and you volunteered your home as a temporary haven. That gesture is powerful. By willingly welcoming Feelings into your humble abode, you’ve altered the entire atmosphere in ways that aren’t immediately recognizable or physically visible. You don’t normally enjoy this. You’ve got a security system installed because you don’t trust people in your home. It staves off thieves who try to steal your belongings for a quick fix. You don’t like people being in your home at all – much less luggage-toting strangers named Hope. In the past you’ve enforced a strict no company rule. This goes against everything you’re comfortable with, but Feelings is persuasive, so you make an exception for Hope.
Things are going surprisingly nice. You’re thoroughly enjoying having Hope around. Feelings tells you, “See, I told you Hope was amazing — you never listen to me!” Feelings will convey all of Hope’s great qualities to you, omitting the bad. Feelings ignores initial red flags and gut instincts, because right now you like Hope, and that’s all that really matters.
You’re falling. Falling dangerously deep. The lower you get, the darker it should be – but Hope is shining bright, lighting everything up along the way. Because it’s lit up, you’re able to see things you never have in the past. Lower and lower you sink, discovering brand new territories. It’s beautiful down there.
Feelings tells you to relax. To fall. To quit wildly grabbing for something to hang on to, and completely let yourself go. You fall uncontrollably until finally, you land. Hope has caught you. After a lengthy plummet, you’ve found stability. It’s indescribable really. It’s as if Hope has placed you on a solid surface — yet it also feels like your walking amongst the clouds. Feelings tells you that this is what you’ve always wanted – and for all you know, it truly is.
Time goes by and as content as you were alone, you’re twice as joyful and comfortable with Hope and Feelings around. It’s pure happiness. Feelings raises expectations regularly, and Hope continuously exceeds them. How were you able to function before? It was so lonely without company. That’s not how life is meant to be, isolated and closed off. We’re supposed to share it. We’re supposed to invite Feelings over and fall until Hope catches us.
Then you wake up one morning. It may be sudden and unforeseen, or it may have been a long time coming — but Hope is gone. Hope is nowhere to be found. If this has happened before, you know the type of pain you’re about to encounter. If it hasn’t, you’re in for a miserable experience. You’ve been abandoned. You search, and maybe even try to get a hold of Hope, but it’s clear that for now, Hope is gone. You place the blame on Feelings. You didn’t ask for this, Feelings forced it on you. Feelings badgered you until you welcomed Hope, trusted Hope, loved Hope. Now Feelings has completely lost all creditability and trust.
Life appears miserable. It’s just you and Feelings living in your home. You’ve upgraded the security, installing the most protective package available. Feelings has fallen ill and there seems to be no remedy. This sluggish, hopeless version of you is in no condition to nurse Feelings back to health. This is one of the lowest lows. Unfortunately this fall is not beautiful when lit and it doesn’t feel like the clouds.
You sit on the couch. You watch one of your guilty pleasure movies and order a pizza with your favorite toppings. This life isn’t glee, but it isn’t gloom either — and maybe that’s all we can ask for. Days. Weeks. Months go by. You’re stronger but you don’t realize it until later. You reflect a lot and feel a great sense of pride in managing to survive being deserted. When you fall deep for Hope and get left at the bottom, you have to pull yourself and the limp body of Feelings all the way back up. Why would you ever want to drop down there again? This is safe. Safe is content. Content is better than miserable. You’re going to be impervious to heartache. You’ll be unbreakable in the future. This will never happen aga–
There’s a knock at the door. You sit for a few moments, hoping that they’ll go away. They ring the doorbell. You remain quiet. More knocks. They aren’t going anywhere, so you tip toe cautiously toward the door, leaning in to take a look through the peephole. It’s Feelings. With multiple pieces of luggage, and a gorgeous friend.
My friends and I volunteered to help repack relief goods for the victims of the typhoon. It was my first time to do this and I totally don’t regret lying to my boss about getting sick today(hehe) to have a day off from work. It feels so good knowing we were able to help and it feels even better that I was doing it with my good friends whom I haven’t seen in a really long time.
Ate lunch at Manang’s, went to Robinson’s Metro East then at Vista Verde. :)
Im not really the kind of person who gets what I want. Im not lucky. I always have to be happy with whatever comes my way. And honestly it gets tiring to feel like this all the time. I always feel like I dont deserve to be happy. ALWAYS.
“Things didn’t work out because, well, greater things were in the works. It’s so difficult while we’re blind and hurting and don’t know which way is up. But, if you have faith in anything, have faith in the fact that the universe has a beautiful way of straightening things out far better than we ever could. You may not see it today or tomorrow, but you will look back in a few years and be absolutely perplexed and awed by how every little thing added up and brought you somewhere wonderful– or where you always wanted to be. You will be grateful that things didn’t work out the way you once wanted them to.”—
It wasn’t always bad. There were beautifully blissful moments, fearless moments, simply sweet and stupid moments. There was laughter. Confidence. Enjoyment.
I knew I wanted to keep fighting to have it back until I couldn’t fight anymore. One of my weaknesses is that I don’t know when to quit, even when I see it coming.
I saw it coming when it stung, but I kept telling myself to just hold on because we can get through this. We always had before, and we always will.
We didn’t always get through it.
I saw it coming because I knew for some reason he wasn’t going to be coming back. Somewhere deep in my heart, something was telling me this would be the final goodbye.
I saw it coming when I stopped talking to him, because I had given up.
I saw it coming when I never heard from him again.
We haven’t spoken since then. I hate that it ended like that, but I can’t change it even if I wanted to. I think we both needed a clean break from each other though to truly move on, and I understand that much better now than I did back then.
I hear he’s happier now.
I learned that you can love someone and not be meant to be with that person, and I can accept that. I also learned that you can love someone with all of your heart, and if you truly love him or her, you’ll wish him or her nothing but happiness, even if it’s not with you.
I’ve come a long way since we parted ways, and I’m sure he has too. We were meant to live different lives, to have stories with different chapters. I knew it wasn’t going to be forever when he picked her side — but I wanted to hold onto the time that we had left, because I remember the good, even through all of the bad and the ugly.
Our affair was brief, tangential. We were both looking for something neither one of us could find in another person. I wanted to feel loved again. He was reaching for something to numb his pain. We both sought solace in each other. Our relationship served as an escape from the overwhelming chaos of our everyday lives. It felt nice to be around someone new, someone who didn’t care where we had been. And yet, despite our unwillingness to recognize it, the baggage of our pasts, the agonies that had defined us as individuals, was the ever-present force keeping us from ever truly becoming something more than a fling, a momentary pause from reality.
In many ways, we were very much alike, but it was our similarities that would eventually drive us apart. Both of us were far too ambitious to ever stand still long enough or to settle, in case the next big thing—in whatever form that it would come, relational, occupational, or otherwise—was waiting just around the corner. Perhaps it was our separate yet equally powerful drives that had brought us so much heartache in our past relationships. We were unwilling, unable to get close to people for fear that they would become anchors holding us back when every fiber of our being was telling us to swim on, to swim harder, faster. Our inability to really open up was the unseen but never forgotten chasm that we were never comfortable enough with each other to safely fall into.
Through these similarities came the feeling that I wanted more. It’s not that I didn’t want to stop running. It’s that I now wanted to run in the same direction. I wanted to be more than one of many, and more than anything, I didn’t want to feel alone. The words he said matched the feelings I felt, but sadly, bliss was not meant for us. Call it timing. Call it circumstance. Call it not meant to be. Call it the fear of having to give a name to something that for so long was just for fun, just a way to get away.
Under any name, at it’s core, it’s still the same thing: two people who came together only for a brief moment in time. But time hurtles forward, and we kept running. Unfortunately, before we made our separate exits, I left behind more than just the memory of our momentary happiness. In a morning fog of forgetfulness, I left behind items I would later come to desperately want back. Upon first realizing my error, I felt unconcerned.
Slowly but surely, my life has returned to the way it was before he came into the picture. It’s amazing how a near stranger can shake you to your core. But I am okay. The loss of my things and the loss of this person no longer feels so monumental. I have friends who laugh at my jokes and who try to understand the dark place he occupied so nicely. I am learning to find the love within myself that isn’t always there but always needs to be. And above all else, I wish the same for him.
It is for this reason, that, no, I don’t want my stuff back anymore. He can keep it. And no, I especially don’t want him to bring it back late at night, or at any time for that matter. The process of having him returning it seems far too painful. No, I don’t want old feelings to resurface when it seems neither of us is capable of handling them in each person right now.I’m set on my path, and he will go his own way. I’m afraid we don’t have enough hands right now to carry our baggage down another dangerous road.
And so, I will lace up and run on, harder, faster, lighter now without the weight of a necklace, some earrings, and a love that was never meant to be.
1. It doesn’t matter what time it is but when he tells you he wants to see you, you’ll be at his doorstep in a heartbeat, no matter how you look like.
2. You’re willing to lose sleep just to talk to him. You’re willing to spend your precious time to talk to him.
3. In every relationship, there’s one party who always loves and gives more. It doesn’t matter if it’s you.
4. There’s no need for compromise, you conform. There’s no need to meet halfway, because you’ve already made the whole trip.
5. You drunk text him. You drunk call him. It doesn’t matter. It’s him you think about when you’re drunk.
6. You respect his freedom. If he wants to be alone, you’ll let him be. If he wants to explore his options, you’ll let him be. And you wait tirelessly on him.
7. You can’t stay mad at him for too long. And you can’t stand him being mad at you. You fold.
8. You go to places where he always goes, not to see him but to feel his presence. You’re happy with that.
9. You still want to be with him even if he has broken your heart into tiny little pieces.
10. You don’t care about his past. You accept it wholeheartedly.
11. You’re in for the long haul. You know there will be detours, road bumps, misread signs but you’ll still be holding on. You understand that one time or another, you’ll feel that you’re feelings are not as strong as it once was but you’ll strive to feel it again because there’s no one else you’d rather be with even through rough patches, and because love is a commitment, a promise.
12. You love him with all his idiosyncrasies, his weirdness,…, all his imperfections. Even if he takes a bath three times a day, even if he can’t play poker no matter how many times he’s been taught, even if he has OCD, even when he’s loves basketball more than you, and all those little irritating things that you’ve come to love.
13. When he tells you there’s no more chance of you two getting back together, you’ll still pray that he’ll change his mind. And you’ll keep saying the same prayer as the years pass by.
If you can sense that someone will hurt you, you’re probably right. They probably will hurt you.
But, what is most frustrating of all, is that you also know — in your heart of hearts, no matter what you may tell your friends — that it will feel too easy to forgive them. Regardless of what they’ve done.
They could cheat on you — vindicating their actions, to you and (more importantly) to themselves, with the excuse that “shit happens” under the wrong circumstances, when they’ve had too much to drink or when you’re out of town for the weekend.
They could fall off the face of the earth — keeping you wondering where they’ve gone or what you’ve done — and reappear in your life only when it is most convenient for them. When they’ve begun to feel lonely and just need a warm body to spoon, if only for a night or two.
You will loathe yourself for giving them, consciously or not, the power to batter and bruise your heart with as much abandon as they’d like. But, when they come to you, eyes downcast and hands wrung, the temptation to accept any form of apology or excuse or tiny-white-lie they could offer you will be strong.
Your heart and your head will wage a civil war within you, and though all of your practical sensibilities will encourage — no, will urge — your head to secede, your heart will prevail in this scenario. That stubborn little shit.
You will persuade yourself that this time will be different.This person will be different; he or she will not like be those who came before — those whose ghosts linger in your past yet manage to haunt your present. You will hope for the best while bracing for the worst, and somewhere, in the back of your mind, you will know that the worst is more likely than the best.
Your sense of trust is so great — too great, your friends sometimes warn — that you will continue to trust no one would ever willingly, knowingly hurt you. And you will stubbornly, adamantly refuse to believe otherwise.
But, when the worst comes (and you know it will), you will be consumed with an aboding sadness that threatens to tear you apart unless you keep your mind occupied elsewhere. So, you will keep your mind occupied elsewhere. You will tell yourself and those around you “onto the next one!” Because, underneath your casual light-heartedness, the mellow approach you always try to take towards these otherwise crippling situations, you will hurt.
They will hurt you. And you know that. But you will forgive them and you will hurt yourself instead.
You can’t always count on your friends to be there for you. You just have to live with the fact that you’re not their priority and most of them are busy with their own lives to be bothered by your need to be be rescued.
Im still confused with this message that I got yesterday(since I only open my tumblr every weekend). And if it’s really you who sent that then this is my response.
I stumbled upon this article a few weeks before and this one sums up everything that I want to tell you.
I still think about you.
I am not sure if that makes me the weak one in the equation (though I’m alright with it if I am), it’s just that the silence that is expected after separations seems too simple and, to be honest, too cruel. It’s as though a breakup of any kind means that whatever existed before is now somehow erased from the mutual history of both partners, never to be acknowledged again — and that just feels ridiculous.
I’m not crying. It’s just that, when I see photos of you or hear through the grapevine of something that you’ve been up to, I wish that reaching out to you wouldn’t be such an inappropriate step. In fact, it’s the whole “this requires a long, drawn-out explanation of why we’re talking again” thing that really confuses me — am I not allowed to ever consider your existence again? In almost every other aspect of my life, keeping tabs on things and remembering what was good is something to be praised, something that makes you an adult. Somehow, this is the exception.
What have you been doing? Are you happy in your life? I want to know what you’ve been up to, I am genuinely interested about the turns your life has taken and the people you are now choosing to spend it with.
Do you think about me? I know, it’s selfish, it’s childish. Nothing screams “immaturity” like wanting to catch up with someone only to shortly thereafter find out exactly what percentage of their life has to do with you still, but I’m curious. As much as I genuinely find myself thinking of what your life must consist of, it would be comforting to think that you have the same moments of reflection about me. Tell me that something as great as we were sort of echoes through the rest of your life, occasionally tapping you on the shoulder to remind you of a past that you so clearly left behind. Tell me, because the world would seem a bit too cold if it didn’t.
I have thought so many times about the implications of contacting you, of telling you simply that you’ve been on my mind, and waiting for the repercussions to permeate. It seems almost an exercise in masochism, the unbridled exposure of one’s heart with the expectation that, at best, the other won’t actively humiliate you. Don’t humiliate me. This isn’t some white flag with the implication that “you won” some unspoken competition — I would hope that our time spent apart has moved us past the petty distinctions of “who is happy” and “who is sad.” I would hope that we have both become happy enough in our own lives, and on our own terms, that joy is not something that has to be divided up amongst us. I want us to both be equally in love with our own chosen paths.
Yes, I am still curious. I wonder what has happened to you since I last saw you, touched you, whispered something in your ear. I wish that getting coffee and catching up like old friends was something acceptable for the two of us to do, and not something that came with a million implications about how desperate the initiating party must be. But, in the interest of honesty, I do wonder. I guess I’d like to know that your life has gone as well as I had once hoped it might, and that what you have become is something that you can sit with at the end of the day and be proud of. I knew you were meant for great things, and I want you to achieve them (even if I may have experienced a moment or two of selfish jealousy in the midst of our separation). You deserve so many great things, not the least of which is my honesty.