... And suddenly, almost magically, i felt so much better. :-)
Life does go on.
CHANGING MY WORLD, ONE MISTAKE AT A TIME.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
The Last Slip
I wanted to speak to you for the last time before I finally close this chapter of my life. If you had said the words i had wanted to hear, maybe it would have prolonged the agony and the pain for me... Knowing I can't have you or we can never make this work.
But your silence was the thing that I never wanted but i needed at that moment, at that time, to put me out of my misery. I now know where I stand. And I vow to respect it.
I just needed to give in to the lunacy. My last and final insanity before I come back to earth.
Finally and truthfully, i can breathe again.
But your silence was the thing that I never wanted but i needed at that moment, at that time, to put me out of my misery. I now know where I stand. And I vow to respect it.
I just needed to give in to the lunacy. My last and final insanity before I come back to earth.
Finally and truthfully, i can breathe again.
Sigh No More
By Mumford & Sons
This is not the end
Lived unbruised, we are friends
And I'm sorry
I'm sorry
One foot in sea and one on shore
My heart was never pure
And you know me
You know me
But man is a giddy thing
Oh man is a giddy thing
Oh man is a giddy thing
Oh man is a giddy thing
Dismay or enslave you, it will set you free
Be more like the man you were made to be
There is a design, an alignment, a cry
Of my heart to see,
The beauty of love as it was made to be
http://www.songmeanings.net/songs/view/3530822107858781875/
The First Step
You found somebody new. You moved on. You’re happy ---or at the very least, pretending to be.
My heart broke into a million pieces. I thought I would die of the pain. But I’m still here. And I vow to find the happiness I deserve.
Today is a brand new day. Today lives a brand new me.
When the sun rose this morning, I knew, the worst part is over and it could only get better from here.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Perfectly Lonely
I'm tired of crying.
I think I've spent an ocean's worth of tears for the past 3 days. Breathing seems to be the hardest thing to do. I drive myself to the point of exhaustion just to be embraced by sleep the minute I lay myself to bed. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to think about you.
But I can't help it.
A picture of us still has its place on top of my dresser drawer. I still have our pillow beside me when I go to sleep. I still have everything you gave me. So, it must a be force of habit for me to think of you.
I'm not angry that you found somebody although I'm not exactly jumping for joy either. maybe its the selfish me who is hoping that we'd be the only two people who would rather be alone than to be with anybody else.
Not that I didnt try to find happiness in another, but for some reason, I tend to self-destruct and sabotage any hopes of getting out of this rut by letting myself be haunted by thoughts of you.
It pains me to say this, but at the end of the day, I still want you to be happy. To truly be able to find the other half of your heart. If you love her for all that she is, then you're starting things right. I hope you learned how to love her from how I loved you. It just sucks that you didn't make it right with me the first time. But all the same, the goal is to move on.
And as for me...
I think I've spent an ocean's worth of tears for the past 3 days. Breathing seems to be the hardest thing to do. I drive myself to the point of exhaustion just to be embraced by sleep the minute I lay myself to bed. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to think about you.
But I can't help it.
A picture of us still has its place on top of my dresser drawer. I still have our pillow beside me when I go to sleep. I still have everything you gave me. So, it must a be force of habit for me to think of you.
I'm not angry that you found somebody although I'm not exactly jumping for joy either. maybe its the selfish me who is hoping that we'd be the only two people who would rather be alone than to be with anybody else.
Not that I didnt try to find happiness in another, but for some reason, I tend to self-destruct and sabotage any hopes of getting out of this rut by letting myself be haunted by thoughts of you.
It pains me to say this, but at the end of the day, I still want you to be happy. To truly be able to find the other half of your heart. If you love her for all that she is, then you're starting things right. I hope you learned how to love her from how I loved you. It just sucks that you didn't make it right with me the first time. But all the same, the goal is to move on.
And as for me...
Saturday, August 20, 2011
S.O.S.
I need someone to hold my heart. or piece it back together. Or just make it stop.
... because this pain is too much for me to bear. I'm sorry.
... because this pain is too much for me to bear. I'm sorry.
Monday, June 06, 2011
Midnight Musing
Friday, May 06, 2011
You. Yes You.
Don't force me to hate you.
I think you've abused me enough to make it appear to everybody that you're the martyr and I'm the villain.
I've endured all the insults and pain for the past four years. Stop making it appear that my move to finally get out of this prison is the worst crime anyone could commit.
Like you, I deserve to be happy too.
At the end of the day, it is not only you who is hurting and thinking that they may never find the half of their heart. I do, too. Every MINUTE Of EVERY DAY.
RESPECT. Is it really too much to ask?
I think you've abused me enough to make it appear to everybody that you're the martyr and I'm the villain.
I've endured all the insults and pain for the past four years. Stop making it appear that my move to finally get out of this prison is the worst crime anyone could commit.
Like you, I deserve to be happy too.
At the end of the day, it is not only you who is hurting and thinking that they may never find the half of their heart. I do, too. Every MINUTE Of EVERY DAY.
RESPECT. Is it really too much to ask?
Friday, April 22, 2011
Lenten Lament
It is that unbearable pain of knowing that you did everything you could to make it work, and it didn't.
It is that indelible scar that reminds you that once, not so long ago, you allowed yourself to bleed dry for someone who has the power to take you to heaven and make you feel hell.
It is the gut wrenching truth that while you know that it is only him who can love you best, it will never be the enough to bring you the happily-ever-after you know you deserve.
It is the dreadful realization that no matter how much you miss him, love him, pine for him, you will never ever be together.
...Because you and him are two puzzle pieces that will never fit.
it is this agonizing road between breaking into a million pieces and finally piecing yourself and moving on that I'm currently treading.
And I'm getting there. One step at a time.
It is that indelible scar that reminds you that once, not so long ago, you allowed yourself to bleed dry for someone who has the power to take you to heaven and make you feel hell.
It is the gut wrenching truth that while you know that it is only him who can love you best, it will never be the enough to bring you the happily-ever-after you know you deserve.
It is the dreadful realization that no matter how much you miss him, love him, pine for him, you will never ever be together.
...Because you and him are two puzzle pieces that will never fit.
it is this agonizing road between breaking into a million pieces and finally piecing yourself and moving on that I'm currently treading.
And I'm getting there. One step at a time.
Sunday, January 09, 2011
My QLC
I am here inside an empty café, listening to bossa while letting my thoughts run wild. It’s been ages since I last tried to even phrase the ‘nothingness’ that sometimes engulfs me (sometimes being the operative word). In most days, I would welcome this blank state. But since my birthday is coming a-knocking, I think I deserve some good old fashioned wallowing.
In about a month’s time, I will be turning 25. This could be the potential quarter life crisis (QLC)---that is, if one is expected to live until 100 years old. I, on the other hand, do not expect to live until 50. With the nature of my job, I may even be optimistic. So is this my midlife crisis, then?
Let me just get my thoughts out. I am a 24 year old sales manager (fine, assistant manager assisting not a manager but an assistant vice president) in a medium sized company. What you can call a medium fish in a medium pond (now, that actually sounds bleaker than what I had intended). Let me rephrase that, I am the youngest member of the Management team and if I had not been used to self- deprecating, I would be proud of myself. Despite my stellar educational background (I got into good schools, but my grades were not stellar), I literally settled for the first company who would hire me. I started out at the lowest of lows, doing a Ryan- Pam combo (you have to know the series The Office to get me), then moving to a sales position, then a year and a half later, managing a team. Four years into this big bad corporate world, I would say that it’s been great so far. Not perfect and not without my share of horror stories but interesting, nonetheless. I met the love of my life in the office and have travelled to different places for free. So far, so good.
What am I rambling about, you would ask? Nothing, really. Except the fact that I have been so wrapped up in my responsibilities work-wise, that I fail to hmmm, stop and smell the roses? Too cliché. A better choice of words would be, I’m so caught up in my work that I forget to stop and pick my scabs (figuratively).To explain, I used to love bleeding---- it gets me really juiced up to write good stories. I used to magnify even the minutest of problems just so I can write about it. In hindsight, I could write stories about my pantyhose running or my hair catching bees like I was vying for a Pulitzer prize. For me, being manic-depressive is healthy. Wait, I would not go as far as saying that I need drama 24/7, though a little of the unexpected would not hurt, either. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I miss writing. I miss it when friends drop a comment on my blog telling me how funny I am, or how they totally agree with how I dissected the meaning of my current favorite song. Things like that may be trivial to people, but for the people concerned, these things forge a sense of affinity and belongingness.
At 24, I’m currently in my ‘tween’ years, no longer young but not too old. I would like to think that I am still in that age bracket where I could still do the things that I want and still be able to turn things around when they go bad (there’s a Dashboard song that captures this idea, but I forgot what song that is.) Bottom line is, I want to explore this ‘generation’ while I still have the chutzpah to do it.
Whoops. Time is up.
7.16.09 – 9:44pm Rocci’s
In about a month’s time, I will be turning 25. This could be the potential quarter life crisis (QLC)---that is, if one is expected to live until 100 years old. I, on the other hand, do not expect to live until 50. With the nature of my job, I may even be optimistic. So is this my midlife crisis, then?
Let me just get my thoughts out. I am a 24 year old sales manager (fine, assistant manager assisting not a manager but an assistant vice president) in a medium sized company. What you can call a medium fish in a medium pond (now, that actually sounds bleaker than what I had intended). Let me rephrase that, I am the youngest member of the Management team and if I had not been used to self- deprecating, I would be proud of myself. Despite my stellar educational background (I got into good schools, but my grades were not stellar), I literally settled for the first company who would hire me. I started out at the lowest of lows, doing a Ryan- Pam combo (you have to know the series The Office to get me), then moving to a sales position, then a year and a half later, managing a team. Four years into this big bad corporate world, I would say that it’s been great so far. Not perfect and not without my share of horror stories but interesting, nonetheless. I met the love of my life in the office and have travelled to different places for free. So far, so good.
What am I rambling about, you would ask? Nothing, really. Except the fact that I have been so wrapped up in my responsibilities work-wise, that I fail to hmmm, stop and smell the roses? Too cliché. A better choice of words would be, I’m so caught up in my work that I forget to stop and pick my scabs (figuratively).To explain, I used to love bleeding---- it gets me really juiced up to write good stories. I used to magnify even the minutest of problems just so I can write about it. In hindsight, I could write stories about my pantyhose running or my hair catching bees like I was vying for a Pulitzer prize. For me, being manic-depressive is healthy. Wait, I would not go as far as saying that I need drama 24/7, though a little of the unexpected would not hurt, either. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I miss writing. I miss it when friends drop a comment on my blog telling me how funny I am, or how they totally agree with how I dissected the meaning of my current favorite song. Things like that may be trivial to people, but for the people concerned, these things forge a sense of affinity and belongingness.
At 24, I’m currently in my ‘tween’ years, no longer young but not too old. I would like to think that I am still in that age bracket where I could still do the things that I want and still be able to turn things around when they go bad (there’s a Dashboard song that captures this idea, but I forgot what song that is.) Bottom line is, I want to explore this ‘generation’ while I still have the chutzpah to do it.
Whoops. Time is up.
7.16.09 – 9:44pm Rocci’s