I let the present slip away because I’m mentally never there.
I need to focus on what’s now. My family, who has only a few weeks left here in Manila with me. Boracay on the 19th. School starting on June 3rd. TOMCAT duties.
I need to live my life. No more overthinking.
You hurt me so bad, in so many ways, so many times. I hate how this is so easy for you. I hate how this is so hard for me. I hate you for finding it in you to like other girls when just a few weeks ago you made it seem like you wanted me. I hate how you reel me in when you’re lonely, make me feel loved, and then put me aside when you’re done. I hate what you’ve done to me. I hate you. I hate you for instilling so much hate in me. I hate all your promises you never saw through. I hate you for making me feel this way, like I’m not good enough. I hate how much I love you and how I can’t seem to feel anything else or feel for anyone else but you. I hate you. I hate your mood swings and how I should be the one to adjust to them. I hate how you always keep me guessing and leaving me in the dark. I hate how you leave me hanging. I hate how I’ve been through every possible heartbreak with you. I hate how I always welcomed you in when you wanted to come back. I hate you. I hate how you said that you “fucking hate the physical attachment” when in fact you were the one who asked me to come see you that night your family went away and you were left behind because you had summer classes. I hate you because you’re just so insensitive sometimes. I hate how you never forgave me for that one mistake. I hate how I was just the consolation prize for not being able to get her because she didn’t chose you. I hate how I took it all, even though I knew the truth. I hate how I still gave you what you wanted, even if I wasn’t the girl you wanted it from. I hate how insecure I felt about her when she had such awful grammar. She thought ‘dutch’ was the spelling for ‘douche’ for Christ’s sake. Take note, and I quote, “..that guy is an dutch.” AN dutch. Will you just slap me in the face? It’ll hurt a lot less than that phrase.
I wish I never met you. I’ve never regretted you before, but now I think I just might. I always think that you’ve taken everything from me, but you always find a way to take some more.
But no more. I’m done. It still hurts, but I’ll get through this. I will. Even if it’s the last thing I do. I will get over you. I will be happy. I will find someone else, someone who’ll want all of me and nothing more. Even all the baggage you’ve caused me to carry. Someday I’ll forget you and how I feel about you. Someday I’ll fall in love again. And it’s not going to hurt as much as this did. It’s not going to destroy me. Someday.
My dad and I had a falling out years ago. It started when they found out I had a boyfriend. He never trusted me again after that. In fact, he never saw me the same way.
I used to be a daddy’s girl. I was the one he took to basketball games, I was the one he’d take with him when he had out of town work, I was the one who he enrolled to basketball camp. My brother wasn’t very sporty so in a way I was his favorite.
But then things changed. I wanted to grow up and thought I wanted to have a boyfriend. I chose having a boy when I already had a man who loved me more than anything.
We just stopped talking. Small talk, sure. But only when we had to. We were strangers.
I always hated myself for that. I always wished I’d done things differently. But it was too late. I was starting my own life, living semi-independently here in Manila with 2 more years of college left until I enter the real world.
But this summer my dad has been trying to reconnect with me. He’s been talking to me more. I’d sit shot gun while he drove and we’d sing along to Eraserheads. We even shared a beer once.
Today he came home with 2 tickets to the Philippine Gilas game. I swear it made my heart melt. This was our first basketball game in years.
He took me to an early dinner and we watched the game. At first it was awkward with a lot of dead air, but eventually we warmed up. Especially when we talked basketball. I’m glad we did this. This made me happy.
Funny how the loss of the boy I love lead to having back the man who loved me more.
“I love you”.
“Haha, I love you.” *kiss on the forehead*
Itching to blurt out ‘I love you’ but is too afraid. Afraid of your reaction, afraid you’d think it was a joke, afraid you won’t say it back. So instead I say everything possible that may come close to equating to an ‘I love you’ and then feel really dumb for rambling.
“It seems like only yesterday we were kids. It was exhilirating riding shotgun. Joyrides at night, streetlamps merely streaks of light as we recklessly zoomed past, ignoring the speed limit. Blaring music and singing along. Going in circles because we didnt want the ride to stop. Getting lost. Drifting. Sand dunes. YOLO moments. Trying to make up for lost time but never will. Fuck it, we’re together again and I love it. I never wanted the night to end. We were together and those are the few moments I felt infinite.”
- an excerpt from my diary
It’s like this unspoken pact and both of us are waiting for the other to break it first. I’m scared to death because I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. We play around, playing the cards, but having no idea what the hell we’re doing. It’s going to happen sooner or later, someone’ll win this card game. I’m hoping it’ll be me. The problem is I don’t know what cards you’re holding, I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know if your chances are better. I don’t know anything at all.
Something to keep me from floating away.
I’ve been obsessed with finding it lately, its driving me crazy.
It sucks not knowing where you belong. It sucks having 2 homes. Do you know what sucks even more? Having those 2 homes a thousand miles away from each other. I’m talking about an 8 hour flight thousand miles.
My anchor in Doha is my family and the memories I have there. It’s what makes me want to stay. My anchor in Manila is UST. But what happens 2 years from now when I graduate and my anchor is cut off? What then?
I don’t know if I wanna leave Manila and stay in Doha permanently after I graduate. And I hate not knowing. I hate not being sure of myself. I hate it because I’m scared.