journey on dark waters

It's been two years. Two years since the pain. It was exactly the same time, same month when he began saying goodbye. I wanted to let go so badly, but I wasn't given the chance. I was asked to hold on, because it wasn't over till it's over. I already knew, months before, that it was over. The moment when I was approached by someone close to his heart and claimed him as her own, I knew I have lost. But then I was asked to hold on. A photograph that could only tell me of what once was, is still saved on my cellphone's internal memory. Before he left, he made a promise that he would write or call. That letter never came, my phone never rang. And I waited against false hopes that he would return. I would receive occasional hi and hellos through our common friends where he was. But was that even enough to make me stop crying? Will it comfort me of how he is? Like a woman of the desert, I await by the dunes, hoping only for a second that it wasn't merely a mirage that...

It's been two years. Two years since the pain. It was exactly the same time, same month when he began saying goodbye. I wanted to let go so badly, but I wasn't given the chance. I was asked to hold on, because it wasn't over till it's over. I already knew, months before, that it was over. The moment when I was approached by someone close to his heart and claimed him as her own, I knew I have lost. But then I was asked to hold on. A photograph that could only tell me of what once was, is still saved on my cellphone's internal memory. Before he left, he made a promise that he would write or call. That letter never came, my phone never rang. And I waited against false hopes that he would return. I would receive occasional hi and hellos through our common friends where he was. But was that even enough to make me stop crying? Will it comfort me of how he is? Like a woman of the desert, I await by the dunes, hoping only for a second that it wasn't merely a mirage that...

The last thing that I wanted to happen is get a call from someone connected to my past. It's a slap to my face telling me what I have lost. I've moved on, but it takes only one call to bring all the painful memories. My mistake, was I took the call, only to hear what would've been. Call it condescending, but I have tried. The caller would've been, should've been more than a friend, but a brother. I was asked to wait for something that would never come, by the person I trusted the most, my sister, my own blood. I thought it wouldn't hurt, but it did. In the end, I lost. Promises were made, but were broken. I know I would fake it by saying I'm fine. But that would be another lie. Maybe, just maybe, I would be saved someone before I drown.

I was looking at a painting the other day, trying to figure out what inspired the artist to paint such hues of red and blue. At some point it made me realize that I do the same thing with my writings. Some ask what inspires me to write from the inner sanctum of my soul. I smile. Secretly hiding the real meaning within, for no one will understand. They never will. Something inside of me was willing to run away and never look back. Instead I write. I pour my soul out onto a piece of paper and write. A question traced the lips of one. Query into how I really feel. Was I okay? Was I doing fine? How will I survive? My answer will always be the same: "I'm fine, life's going great never better." But inside I am slowly melting into a quicksand of pain. Each grain slowly sinks me in sorrow. I have managed to smile despite the bitter tears that cascades from eyes. People knew. But never asked me, with respect to how I would feel. Yet in their eyes I could feel the pity. Their l...

If being nice means stepping on others' feeling, then that is not nice. Recently, being friends with a 'so-called' nice person, opened my eyes to the difference between nice and not. Normally I send messages on my mobile phone (which averages to 100+ messages depending on whether I am on unlimited text load). My messages ranges from quotes (inspirational, morning, love etc.), jokes, or just plain hi and how are you doing today. So receiving my messages within the day (let's say 5 or more), think of it as normal. And if I send a text message that happen to center on love, then it was probably just a forward (like I am doing at the moment). If by any chance that the message was misread, it's on the understanding of the reader, whether he or she would like to read it as either tragic, inspirational or for that matter a professing of one's own feelings. On my case, it happened. It was misread, without asking it personally from me if I meant the message or not! The w...

It was wrong. I made a huge mistake of believing that the signs could never be wrong. I thought it was written in the stars. I was rash enough to be a friend. But in the end, it all made sense. Writing that letter was wrong. Being vulnerable was wrong as well. I let my guard down. I was foolish enough to let the thief in and steal what was rightfully mine. A privacy that let everyone know I had been stupid enough to believe another lie. I had liked the view so much, that I forgot, that there are other blurry images behind. Images unseen and waiting to be deciphered. Maybe it was Kirk all along, or maybe Zac or maybe it was Micah? I was wrong to jump. It was a trap, meant to trap my emotions for everyone to see. Having this dance, was wrong. In every sense. Promises were meant to be broken. I kept my hopes up only to find out, that it was all a big mistake. And now, I have to go my own way and leave... Make choices both easy and hard. Letting go and saying goodbye for good.

Maybe I was being rash when I decided to be "in communicado". I tried to put myself into exile and try, as much as possible to forget the pain building up inside of me. I did all the things possible to forget: work till the wee hours of the morning, go into extreme work-out (which I have partly done), get into sports (which I did, European Football and all after 2 months of badgering from my so-called half-brother, dim-witted (kidding) nephew and close gal pal). I tried to veer away from the world for the while, since this "in pain" bit has gotten me into a bit of binge-eating now and then. I tried to reel away from society. Convincing myself that true love doesn't have to mean, marrying someone who has status, but marrying someone because you love this person. I once heard from my dim-witted nephew (kidding and you might kill me later on!), in the most exasperating voice ever: "Auntie, you don't have to shield yourself from the world, someone out ther...