Of Restropective and Forward Looking Thoughts

...and I woke up one day and the bitterness is gone.

in one of the feeds in my FB page, I saw my ex and his new girlfriend in one of our common friend's party. I was expecting a staggering pain in my heart, an emptiness in the pit of my stomach, and blackout level anger. Amazingly, I didn't feell anything of that sort. If there's any detail that I felt or picked up from those pictures, I just noticed the little things like how chubby his face looked now, how matured he looked (old, actually), how much better the girl's new hair color is on her (Although she would do much better smiling in a normal and non-pacute way because let's admit it, unless, you're Anne Curtis, the non-teeth smile rarely works out for anyone-- and I mean this in an objective, non mocking way), and brought me back to the day when I first met the girl (Badminton game with her ex, and my ex who is his current-- ang gulo lang). I found her cute, then. And since all my bitterness was gone now, I kinda accepted that I may actually like this girl and be friends with her, if we were in a different situation.

Therefore, is it safe to assume that I've healed. Although, I've said this many times before, I know this time is different. For some reason, I'm kind of sure that I won't go back relapsing into this black hole of depression. As weird as it may sound, I genuinely wish them happiness. The love is still there, as with any person who filled a space in your life and made your existence worthwhile. I would always think of him and save a corner of my heart for him. But in terms of pining, I don't see myself putting up all my hopes for a future with him.

I guess this is what moving on and setting someone free feel like---a breath of fresh air. I'm ready to take on a new life. So, get ready world, and be my oyster.

Paduds Chronicle Part 2

I take it back.

I appreciate it very much. I should not be so ungrateful and so quick to judge and decide. These things take time and possibilities are endless. It could be nothing, something, or everything. In any case, it's all about taking chances and taking a step forward.

Happiness is a choice. And after treading that long road of self-imposed misery, I am finally choosing to be happy.

This is All Kinds Of Awkward

Let me tell you something about me. I am not used to being wooed and swooned over. It kind of pushes me to over analyze things. This early, it's like I'm being forced to make a choice. And it suffocates me. Gak. Pwede bang steady muna?

Ansabe ng Horoscope ko 11/21/2011

(Source:www.yahoo.com)

Your imagination, dreams and fantasies are offering you some amazing insight into the questions you've been asking yourself, and they could confirm a few suspicions. The visions in your life give you a glimpse of the truth, of the accurate reality you see from outside your biased lens. You've been in a fog about someone for a while, and it's time to be up front and crystal clear about what you need and what you want. Go right to the source and don't leave things open to interpretation

Paduds.

I am A Zombie. A Very Productive Zombie.

Wow, 3 hours of sleep after hours of partying, er, working in heels after our company sponsored an event held at Republiq last night. Yes, it was fun but it really wasn't my thing. Note: the sight of grinding bodies in a dark space is not my idea of a relaxing Thursday night. But, who's complaining? Free food, good dance music and a chance to people-watch.

To say that my social life is active is a severe understatement. I can only blame this on the season. People keep on asking me to do a lot of extracurricular activities that blur the line of work and personal life. Hosting activities, organizing surprise birthday, Christmas, bridal shower, reunion parties, dance presentations, and the ultimate singles mixer. Yes, this is on top of a very time and energy consuming 8-5 (rather, 8-8) job. I barely sleep, I wake up early, I go out a lot, and I seldom have dinner. How I can manage to remain vertical and still have this much energy is really beyond me.

After all these hectic events, I cannot wait to leave. After all, a girl needs to get out of this madness once in a while. And this, my dear, is a welcome reprieve.

Pa-Duds Chronicle

Ang sarap maging busy...

...kaiiisip sa yo

Thank you for becoming my welcome distraction.

It's Official.

I hate you.

PAGOD(a Coldwave)

And the worst part is, before it gets any better
We're headed for a cliff
Then in the free fall I will realize
I'm better off when I hit the bottom
But turn it off
in all my spite, in all my spite
I'll turn it off

-Turn It Off (Paramore)

Pwedeng bumuntong hininga ng sobrang haba?

Just for a few minutes, I just want to do something non-work related, thus, this post. For some reason, I am physically weary. Is it because I'm not getting any sleep? Or maybe its the bad chi of this cubicle? Or maybe I'm just tired of it;this status quo, this never ending wait for the unknown, everything.

This too shall pass. Think of happy thoughts.

On a completely unrelated note, I was surprised by the revelation that contrary to popular beliefs (within the family, of course), my Mom actually wants me to get married soon. She wants to have a grandchild na daw. And here I was thinking they were just NR on the thought of their children having a family of their own. Don’t worry mom, I'm working on it (the marriage, not the kids).Vegas wedding, anyone?

Anyare?!?

Oo. Super busy week. Naiisip ko pa lang ang gagawin ko, natotoxic na ako. There's just so many things to do, so many people to meet, so many events to attend and organize, so little time.

Pero I'm not complaining. These are really good things happening.

This week, I never even noticed the significance of 11.11.11. Or November 11 for that matter bilang may "unforgettable experience" lang.

Anyway, I finally go my visa. Yeeeees! This is it. I'm actually overwhelmed by the people wanting to see me when I go to the States. Even my grade school friend whom I haven't seen since 1997 asked me to meet up with him when I get there. That's so nice of him.

I cannot wait to go to SF, my "favorite" city and meet Georgeous*, Dhangkers and Hazey.

Promising. Very promising journey indeed.

It's A Thank You, Lord Day!

One.
My prayer is finally answered and it's a resounding YES. Praise the Lord! This is really it; God's plans are finally set in motion. I can just feel it. Hello, new world. Hello, new beginning.

Two.
I have a new phone. And my contact list has been erased. All of it. Talk about starting fresh.

Three.
Your one month's up. Thank you for NOT taking your last chance. Goodbye.

The Involuntary

She stares outside her window looking at the pouring rain and counting every second that passes her by. She knows that this will only get her down, and yet, she basks under the heavy weight of reliving the past--- the past that has been her mind's playground where she can freely run with memories of him.

Her heart throbs in pain, her breathing becomes laborious, and her hands begin to tremble at the anguish of wanting to hold him, but can't.

Yet, she savors this suffering.

Because it is only the ache in her heart that can validate that what they had was real. Not now, but at some point, it had been real.

It had not been a few seasons ago when she would wake up to his smile and the gentle touch of his hand on her face, making her feel precious and loved. She would look forward to every daylight as this would bring a new moment for her to relish the comfortable feeling of him beside her. She would longingly kiss his lips and whisper a line from a song they both love, as music had been their secret code to express how they feel. His breath, her promise, the lingering embrace. She thought these would last forever.

Until one day, she woke up and it was all gone.

Gone.

Now, she only wakes up as an involuntary motion that happens to her every single day. She walks not to go anywhere but because she can no longer bear lying at that crumpled bed he used to sleep on, or bear sitting at that chair where he used to wait as she takes her time getting dressed. Everything is involuntary... sleeping, rising, crying, breathing. She was not living. She was merely existing.

She fears not of growing old alone and unwanted. She fears of growing old without him.

No. She was not unloved. She could have had a chance to be with someone. And yet, it doesn't matter to her anymore. Because what good would that be if that someone is not him?

How can she have any shot at happiness?

She can't and she won't.

Because when she gave her heart fully to him, she did not really get it back.

And now she's just an empty piece of shell.. broken and alone.

She suffers the worst kind of loneliness because the path of solitude has been paved by her own hands all along.


Now, that is voluntary.



(video from: www.youtube.com)

*** This is purely the work of the creative mind of the author which may or may not be based on real life. Paduds!

On Being Brave Enough To Start Again

JUL. 27, 2011
By KAT GEORGE
(from: www.thoughtcatalog.com)

We’ve all felt the sting of heartbreak at one time or another. And even though our experiences are not all alike—varying in extremity from unrequited crushes to soul-mates lost—between our collective, vast array of disappointments, our damp, tear stained pillow cases and brooding, lonely days, we’ve probably all had the same thought at some point: I’m not doing this again. Because no matter how you go through it, or what way you look at it, heartbreak is a taxing exercise.

There are many different ways of dealing, from the stoic, silent suffering of the proud, to the hysterical, lurid self-destruction of the openly distraught; having your heart broken is always a process. No matter how you deal, heartbreak can drain you entirely, both emotionally and physically, and sap your energy on a daily basis, especially where you have a drawn out healing period. But the worst part of having your heart broken sometimes doesn’t manifest until you feel strong again and steel your resolve—it’s the promise you make to yourself that you’ll never be heartbroken again.

It’s painful because you know it’s not you, it’s not right, and because your decision inhibits you from making contact the way you used to. But your aversion to heartbreak is overwhelming, and controls all your actions to the point of self-sabotage, which your wrought subconscious by now deems to be self-preservation. You don’t want to spend those months drinking alone in your room every night. You don’t want to end evenings out with friends sprawled across some dingy bathroom floor, your cheeks stained with mascara and your head resting against the porcelain. You don’t want to lie in bed until 3pm everyday with nothing but white noise in your head. You just don’t want to feel any of those feelings again—emptiness, sorrow, rejection—the ones that came from you letting yourself be vulnerable to someone else. You don’t ever want to relinquish that sort of power to someone again.

Every now and then you’ll meet someone new. Someone maybe your heart would have raced away with, before you experienced the crippling agony of having it broken. And yeah, maybe your heart’s been repaired since, maybe you’re as happy as you’ve ever been and entirely satisfied with yourself and your life—but that’s just the point, isn’t it? You’re no longer prepared to disrupt the harmony. You barely survived it—the first time your world was picked up and shaken like a shitty little snow globe—and you’re not willing to hedge a bet that you’ll survive it a second time.

So you’ll push the new ones away instinctively. Half of you will be relieved and the other half will pang with melancholy. You want to be braver—because when it comes down to the bones of it, all you really are is scared. You wish it was as simple as calling out to your mother and having her check under your bed and in the closet for the boogey man, but you’re on your own now, with no one to protect you from night terrors but yourself. You sometimes think the conflict inside you is tantamount to spilt milk and you feel petty and selfish, but you’ve become so accustomed to living on the back foot you don’t know how to leap forward anymore.

You’re not a bad person—you know you’re not—you have so much love to give, but you’ve never feared anything more than giving it. It seems like such a shame and waste, but at the same time entirely necessary. You desperately want to be inspired again, to hold someone’s hand in the street, to have them brush the hair from your eyes as you rest your face on their chest in bed on lazy Sundays. You want someone to tell you they love you in the dim half-light of morning, you want someone you can cook dinner for, you want someone whose wounds you can lick. You want someone who is at once your best friend but with whom you share the secret sweetness of sex, and a heightened physical and emotional intimacy. And yet: wanting is not the same as having, and you let them all pass by you and around you, like wind whipping against your ankles. Your heart is still and safe.

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah

I'm doing better now. I told you once the weather clears up, the blues would go away. Plus the fact that I've been listening to 90's songs all afternoon. Good vibes baby.

it just made me realize na ang emo-emo ko na, ang bata ko pa lang. nyahahaha. How I could possibly relate to these songs without actually being in 'that moment', I have no idea.

Maybe I just have a good ear and taste for music--- a quality which I would require from my boyfriend. That's non negotiable. I mean, i can't imagine myself sitting inside his car and listening to R&B or hiphop. I would die. I don't expect that we'd listen to the same songs ALL the TIME. Variation is expected, as well. Our relationship should be a journey of new discoveries, if not of places, then of good music.

And with that requirement set, I would like to just say, so far, so good.:-)

747

by Kent

Still one of my favorite songs EVER. Reminds me of Remote Control Weekends.

...And Something else.

Silence, like a whisper
Maybe tomorrow it won't be here
So tomorrow we could teach them
Some new styles

You're such a killer
So shoot me down again
It won't hurt when the killing is done by a friend

Silence, like a whisper
So this is all we need
The fully air conditioned sound of speed
A violent whisper
And this time it's for real
So this day I made plans for us to leave

Silence, why won't you listen
Maybe it's just me
but sometimes it's impossible to breathe
A violent whisper
Maybe this time it won't heal

Maybe this time it will bleed until I'm free

we ran out of time... leave it all behind.




source: www.youtube.com and www.sing365.com

Seeing Your Ex

Aug. 24, 2011
By Brent Delaney
www.thoughtcatalog.com


There they are on the crowded street like a hallucination in the pregnant air. You are immediately hit by a bolt of anxiety while the word f*&^ skips over and over in your head like a roughed up CD. Your first impulse is to toss yourself into the nearby alley, but it's too far gone. They see you. You are two bar magnets simultaneously attracted and repelled by each other, north and south poles wildly confused. The sweltering tension as you approach each other climaxes in a, "Hi." Then, an awkward conversation bumbles along in an effort to disregard the coffin of memories anchoring every word. You brandish your shield, calling to arms everything in your reserve in a noticeably forced bluff of contentment. You uneasily shake hands or hug as if you've lost all knowledge of how to hug. And you continue along the filthy sidewalk, treading over cracks as you are struck with murky emotions of nostalgia.

It's a near-death ordeal where brain activity surges and a mashup of all your memories with that person plays on and on and on through invisible earphones. You can't shut the music off. It crescendos and you remember every nondescript detail. The way you changed hand positions when you went on walks together, sometimes intertwined, sometimes palms diagonally overlapping. The way you couldn't grasp how this person you're so in love with could actually like the medicinal taste of kale. The way you held their face or stared up at them anticipating a moment of vulnerability. The way they touched your leg under a table filled with your friends and how that small gesture gave you a profound feeling of support.

It is then that a decrescendo occurs and a cold stream runs through you as you remember that monumental fight you two got into, retreating into your corners of the ring, waiting for the other to send the first SOS, the first apology, the first admittance of wrongdoing. The way you felt at first and the way your relationship crawled towards a routine complacency, dispiritedly trying to regain that electric current of the initial few months when time was irrelevant. The way you both wanted different things in life, but kept an ongoing, unspoken mantra that you were bound by something stronger than your own selfishness.

It was like any other relationship of both positive and negative charges. Just like any other.

And suddenly, it's all over. You start thinking about your own life again, your present problems and the fact that you need to buy Parmesan if you want to actually enjoy that spaghetti you plan on eating. The memories evaporate. Who you were and that particular stage of your life recedes back into the depths of you, laid to rest in a place with no gravestone; a place you will visit less and less because, no matter how much effort, you can't resuscitate the past.

Why I Need Therapy

There are days when I am just overflowing with happiness, with creative juices, with the zest for life.

There are days, though, when I just feel like curling into a ball, crying myself to sleep, and wishing never to wake up.

Compared to other people, I have no major issues to speak of. I had a great childhood, I've no angst, and I am not at war with the world. And yet, I choose to pick my scabs so I can bleed, so I can remind myself that I am still alive, albeit, bordering the line of just existing.

It's not that I am not a happy person. I am. I would also like to believe that I have a talent in making other people happy. I am a firecracker, so they say. Never losing energy, always laughing, always in high spirit.

...until something bursts my bubble.

It could be a song that reminds me of my ex. It could be the weather that prevents me from going out with friends, holding me immobile and glued to my bed. It could be the sight of happy couples or carefree children.

To simplify things, I am a self-confessed, non-clinically diagnosed manic-depressive.

For some time, I thought that I was cured of this disorder (for more or less 5 years). But something triggered it and I don't think I need to name it.

You may be thinking that it's only because I was recently heartbroken that I'm swinging from happiness to depression in a snap of a finger.

FALSE.

I've always been a kindred soul since I can remember. I was that kid who listened intently to sad songs, feeling hopeless for a heartbreak that has not yet arrived. I was that teenager who wrote poetries and short stories to a love unknown. I was that 20-year old fresh graduate who stared at the ceiling endlessly at night thinking my life was not how it was supposed to be. And now, I am a twentysomething career woman who works 12 hours a day and drowns 2 hours a night at the thought of ending up alone.

What is important to note, however, is that I am not dishonest with myself. I never pretend to be happy when I'm not.I never incurred the habit of lying, not even to myself. If anyone would ask me if I was fine, I need not come up with a verbal response. They just need to see me, my eyes, and the way I slumped in my chair uncomfortably, and they would automatically know. I am that transparent.

And tonight, I am once again spiralling into the bottomless pit of self-destruction. Of hate. of Anger. Of helplessness and hopelessness. Forgetting how far I've come along. Forgetting the overflowing love I've been receiving.

But only for tonight. Or until this weather clears up.

Because that's the beauty of a self-confessed, non-clinically diagnosed manic-depressive. You always know that things will be better and that you will be happy again.

Until the next bubble bursting.

Sometimes, When It's Raining

By Kat George
Oct. 19, 2011
(Source:www.thoughtcatalog.com)

Sometimes, when it's raining, I think about you. I think about you all the way over there, with all that ocean and all those years between us. I think about if you're doing well, what your bedroom looks like, if you enjoy your job. I think about the times when there wasn't any ocean between us and my time was your time. I think about when I knew the answers about you, because they were my answers as much as they were yours. Sometimes, when it's raining, I wonder if it's raining where you are too.

Sometimes, when it's raining, I pretend I'm kissing you. I pretend we're lying in bed all morning with the grey half light and the patter of rain on the roof and the sloshing sound tires make on the bitumen as they speed by the window outside. I pretend you're bringing me tea and we're sitting side by side in bed reading the paper, you telling me the comics and me failing at Sudoku. I pretend we're playing Quiz Master and we're winning. Sometimes, when it's raining, I close my eyes and pull the duvet over my face, and pretend you're breathing by my side.

Sometimes, when it's raining, I feel a little lonely. The grey sky reminds me so much of London's sky, the greyness that enveloped us, even in the summer. I miss my friends, my family, you, especially when my feet are wet and I'm so far from home. I wonder if you're thinking about me too, and I know you're not, and I get to feeling so isolated and worn out. Sometimes, when it's raining, I wish I really was alone, that I had nothing in the past, and only a moment to hide from the world while the sky releases madness

Sometimes, when it's raining, I listen to love songs. I plan my wedding and it's not to you, even though I once thought it would be. I sashay across my room and concoct fantasy love stories in which someone falls for me, madly and passionately. Not the way that you did but in a way which would last forever with every conceivable grandness announcing its arrival. I think about falling in love again, and I promise myself I will, one day. Then I put that promise inside a box, and I put the box in my pocket. Sometimes, when it’s raining, I like to make believe.

Sometimes, when it's raining, I begin to feel alive. I start to have those clichéd thoughts like "everything is washed away". I think of you fondly, without remorse or longing, and decide that the rain will bring me a new beginning. My mind clears and I begin to see the future spanning before me, as I turn away from the past laid out behind. There are ways for me to say goodbye and when it's raining, sometimes I say them all in whispers you'll never hear. Sometimes, when it's raining, I like to run outside in all my clothes, and let the water to soak through to my skin.

Forget Reality: Let's Fall In Love

By Kat George 

Oct. 20, 2011

From (www.thoughtcatalog.com)

We snagged, just for a second there, didn’t we? We bumped our heads together like idiots and we both came up concussed. Everything was going so wonderfully, I was so delirious for you, but then… well, it’s life happening, not some romantic dream. And I hope, I really do wish it with my eyes squeezed tightly closed and my hands balled firmly into fists at my sides as I concentrate, that next time we see each other we forget what’s “real” and indulge in our reality instead.

Because our reality, right now, it’s just about falling in love. Let’s put the real stuff aside—the past, our insecurities, all the baggage we’ve imported from all our journeys—and let’s just be. This is our moment to be fanciful, and we might not get another one, at least not together. I don’t want to have to “deal” and “cope” and “work” yet. For now I just want to kiss you and lose myself in all the small moments when you wrap your arms all the way around me.

Things are complicated, I know, but let’s soar above that, at least for a day. Let’s make getting to know each other about all the wonderful things that made us fall into each other’s embrace in the first place. Let’s not mar it with all the ugly crap we’ve filled our pockets with over the course of the years we’ve already lived without each other’s company. And then, once we’re madly in love, and only then, we can unleash it all upon each other, so that we’re equipped to deal with it the way that lovers do—patiently and compassionately.

You know how it is when we’re laughing? That’s how I want it to be all the time when we’re together. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not idealistic or selfish—if you’re having a bad day I will be there to hold you and hold you until you don’t feel sore anymore, and I’ll do it without complaint or request. I’ll do it because I care about you deeply. But listen: we’re not ready for the heaviness of the past yet. We can share and laugh and rub away each other’s daily miseries but I don’t want to delve into the backwardness of all that came before. Not yet, at least.

I want you to trust me and know that every time I look at you all I see is wonderfulness. I see lights and rainbows and everything good and awesome about this world all radiating out of you at once. Yes, I’m intense and yes, I’m romantic, but can’t you just take my adoration for a second and let it make you as happy as it makes me? Relax into me, because I’ve got you on a pedestal now, and there’s no one else in the room but us. And this is half the reason I don’t want to share the dirty stuff with you—because every now and then you make me feel so warm it’s as though nothing else ever existed.

We could be best friends, you and me; we’re so alike in so many ways. And now we have to decide whether we’re going to knock our likenesses against each other and explode into tiny bits that splatter against the walls, streaking downwards and pooling in insidious puddles, or if we can make those likenesses build each other up, like great cities or rolling mountains. I’d like to think that we could be a team, that we could conquer everything together. That we’ll draw from each other to be stronger and better. That we’ll still be holding hands through all of winter’s blizzards.

 

Dear 3-Day Work Week

Please be good to me. I've had a pretty good weekend. Let this not be ruined by irate clients, emotional instability and unrealized expectations. I've invested so much in this for me to be disappointed. Show me some love and I will love you back. I promise.

A.B.


Sorry for the big pictures, extending beyond the borders of my blog theme. I don't know how to edit it.

Iba't ibang Mukha ng Group Hab

The Long Weekend That Was

Can we all say Awesome?

It was just the break that I needed after all the toxicity of work and other miscellaneous stuff.

Day 1: That Badass Road trip
It's good to go back to the Perks Haven, swim under the stars and just enjoy the night with people you love and who love you back. I had a particularly nice time catching up with Mamba and Tubby's parents. It brought me back a few years when we were planning out our lives, wondering where we'll be after 10 years. Career-wise, I think we're still on track, maybe even ahead of what we initially planned. But in terms of our personal lives, well, it's just a minor detail that we're currently working on. We've been meeting a lot of people, widening our circle, meeting new friends. Sooner or later, things will fall into their rightful places, and Mamba's parents will finally get the "invitation" they have been waiting for.
Ang Stopover

The 3am swim

Waiting for the Breaking of Dawn (walang kinalaman sa Twilight, pero vampire mode kami)

Ang breakfast of Champions

Ang chillax under the Tree

Ang circle of friends, with a new addition

HOHOL under the Tree

Caught on Cam, ang social butterfly. I want to believe this is a sign.

Hanggang sa muli

Day 2: The Geeks with the Geek in Pink (Now in Black)

The Perks did not have the chance to sleep all day after the very tiring Friday to Saturday gig. I had to wake up early for Cemetery #1 duty, and to prepare for our Jason Mraz concert. As I previously mentioned in my post, it was Awesoooome (think Barney Stinson's high pitch voice as I say this). Kulang na lang ay mag group hug kami sa pagkanta ng You and I Both, The Remedy at I'm Yours.
Ang favorite lines:
"God knows we're worth it... I am loved, You are loved."- I Wont Give Up
"If its a broken part, replace it. If its a broken arm, then brace it. If its a broken heart, then face it. and hold your own, know your name, go your own way.. and everything will be fine." - Details in the Fabric
"When I fall in love, I take my time. There's no need to hurry when I'm making up my mind... I won't worry my life away." - The Remedy

All in All, it was an intense night, a superb listening experience with a bunch of people who share the same love and passion for music as I do. Can't wait for our next concert together.

Day 3: Sleep All Day, Eat all Night
My family does not need a special occasion to throw a party. My cousin just prepared ginataang halo halo as a lure to bring us to their house and the rest of the night was just our typical gatsby usapan about nothing and everything. Of course, we took some time to do grocery shopping for the cemetery visit but after that, we had an impromptu dinner that amazingly looked as if it took a day's worth of preparation. A huge bowl of salad, chicken take out, BBQ ribs done by my cousin Lilac* and Good ole chicharon to keep us talking the entire night. This is why I love my family. Clingy lang kung Clingy.

Day 4: Camp out at the Cemetery
With just barely an hour's sleep, I had to wake up at dawn to go to Cemetery #2. Contrary to my initial thought that I would be dozing off the entire stay, I actually didn't sleep a wink when I got there. Maybe it was because I brought Atlas Shrugged that kept me awake or maybe it was because of the intense sun beating at my skin as early as 6:30. Or maybe it was my actual longing to be with the company of Mama. This year is actually the 10th death anniversary of my twin brothers, my Lolo and my Mom's 25 Death Anniversary. I felt guilty that I wasn't able to visit her last May on the actual anniversary date because I was at Paris that time, but I never forgot to include her in my thoughts and prayers.

Whenever I talked to her in front of her grave, it never fails to bring a tear to my eye. She's my angel. I prayed for her guidance and for longer years with Pops, especially now that he's going through a tough time with his illness. I pray that I would still have more years to spend with him. I really want him to see me get married, to walk me down the aisle, to see my kids grow up and be a doting grandfather as I know he would be.

It's really been a tough year for me. Sometimes, I wish that I have somebody permanent to give me strength to get me through some days. My ex could call me anything he likes, but I want to believe that I had been there for him when he needed me most, when he was at his weakest, that is, when his dad fell ill. I had genuinely cared for his dad, and I know he meant a lot to him so I gave him strength during those difficult times, even when I had none to give anymore because we were also going through a challenging time during our relationship. He wasn't over my past so I tried to assure him that he had nothing to worry about. He had too much on his shoulders then, and with my love for him, I helped him carry them so our relationship can progress. I wish I had that somebody right now, a pillar of strength and source of optimism as I had been for him. But God has a different plan for me. I think He wanted me to find my own capabilities and if I feel my strength fraying thin, He would show me His love through the kindness and compassion of others; my family, my friends, my angel.

This weekend had proven not only to be a healing moment for my body but for my spirit,as well. It invigorated me to work harder towards my goals, be thankful for the blessings God continues to shower me with, and love the life I have.

AS we draw closer to the end of the year, the Lord is giving me more and more reasons to believe that 2012 is going to be my year. And I cannot Wait.

I Should Be Sleeping but...

in two hours, i'll be waking up and leaving for the cemetery to visit Mama. 25 years of going here and my heart still aches for her. I never got the chance to know her but I know from all the stories that she was a very kind person; soft spoken, quiet, loving and beautiful inside and out.

I'm not saying that I hate my life now. Mommy has been very good to all of us. I couldn't think of a better person to take care of us than her, but there are times when I cannot help but wonder what my life would be and how I would turn out if Mama had lived longer.I think I would be less talkative, more conservative and reserved, more mysterious and soulful as she had been. I cant say that I would be better. Different,yes, but not necessarily better.

MTB never had the opportunity to meet her. I had been planning a visit to the cemetery so I can introduce him to Mama, but in all four years of our relationship, the moment never arrived.

Maybe God intentionally hindered them from meeting. Maybe He wanted me to bring him, my future, to Mama as a sign that he will be the guy that the Lord has set for me.

I know that Mama is up there guiding us, like an angel whom you may not see, but can feel every second of everyday. She has been instrumental to removing the pain in my heart and allowing me to be hopeful for the future.

I'll be with you later, Mama. We've got a lot to talk about.