This isn’t a movie review.
I paused it and am writing this while crying. It’s because of this movie that I finally am honest to myself on how lonely I am.
I am lonely.
I still don’t have anyone. 23 years (24 in a month) and I still don’t.
I know no one should make anyone a solution to their sadness.. or problems.. or feeling of incompleteness, but I really feel sad and incomplete.
I am okay. My life’s okay. There’s these bumps every now and then, but I am okay with my life, my family, my friends, myself. I like how everything is. I love it. I’m happy.
It’s just that there’s something missing. There’s this hole inside. I feel empty. Not that I don’t feel loved; in fact I am, very. It’s just different when you have someone. As I always say and know:
I may be a little bruised now. I might seem to be yearning for somebody to complete me or fix me or turn as my world. No, all I want is to have someone I can shower all my love on and be showered on all his, someone I’d brave any storm with.
But where are you?
I used to hold grudges on people (dear friends and special ones) who either agree to meeting up then cancelling last minute, especially those who don’t give any notice that they wouldn’t make it, or don’t respond to any of my messages and keep me on “seen.”
These people, unfortunately, are those whom I rarely see or talk or whom I had to gather enough courage first before speaking to or asking out; which was why I tend to hurt so much then.
But I have learnt to shrug it off (that I’m very glad to) sometime this year; when and how are vague.
What I do is I keep in mind that I don’t know if they may be going through / have been through something. If I do know, still, I don’t know what exactly they were feeling or how devastating it must have been for them.
I try to understand.
I try to.. Though I don’t understand a thing, though I’m hurting, though I feel disappointed, though my expectations and excitement are really at the peak.
We all cope differently.
During those times, we also sometimes hurt others or push them away unbeknownst to us.
I just repeat those thoughts over and over until I’m calm.
I hope they know that I’ll still be here, fast forward everything.
I never thought we’d have a conversation like this ever and I’m thankful for this chance. You were one of the first guys who made me feel so special, who taught me of patience, consistency, and perseverance, who made me realize I’m worth loving, and whom I hurt so much.
I’m really happy for you. You would always talk about these things back in high school and now everything’s slowly turning into reality. You’re migrating to the US in a few weeks. You’re getting married in a few months. She is your first and last. You’re aiming to get your mom to be with you two asap. You had everything planned out and really are chasing your dreams at a young age.
I don’t want to ruin the moment by saying sorry for everything I did, said, made you feel.. but I hope you know I am.
Just really happy we are talking right now.. Me being excited to wear a gown on your wedding.. You telling me I might get married in church first.. I’m happy you’re happy. Knew I wasn’t the one for you, but I wanted us to be like this.
I have so much love to give, I think my heart’s gonna explode any minute now. But I’ll wait for you.. Patiently, until our time comes.
Maybe one day, all these thoughts will be reality. Maybe not with the person I’m imagining at present, but surely with the right person.
This in itself soothes me.
I just really can’t control my mind. Us getting another chance in this lifetime is next to impossible anymore, but I can’t stop myself. I keep on creating happy memories I know might never happen.
And that’s okay. I’ll hold on to the thought that it might not.. not with him.. But with the person written in God’s plans, it surely will.
I think I can settle on this for now.
Took a nap just a while ago.
Dreamt of me hearing my father flirting on the phone. I stormed outside my room towards him in the living room. He didn’t notice me as his eyes were closed and was wearing earphones. I was enraged, more so because the setting was similar to the actual before I fell asleep — my mother and youngest sister asleep on the couches — yet he seemed confident he won’t wake them up and kept on talking. Though I already knew who it was on the other end, I grabbed his phone to look at the caller ID. It was a bit hard since along with the shock, his reflexes made him hold on to his phone.
No, please don’t let it be a warning, Lord. I don’t want it to happen to us.. again. I don’t want to go through it alone again. I don’t want to hold more grudges against him. I don’t want to forgive him again. Please.
I realized this just now. That night, and probably on other days, I did and said all those things not because I was drunk. I was just my complete self. I may not know why exactly, but in nights like that, I’m myself. It may be because I’m extremely comfortable with the people I’m with or because the people around me are drunk anyways and may forget everything the following day. Whatever the reason, I’m just glad I’m able to put down my mask from time to time.
The hardest part about crying in the bathroom isn’t when you sit on the toilet for the longest time nor when you place your hand on your mouth to avoid making any noise; it’s when you think you’re already okay but you get up seeing your swollen eyes and damp cheeks in the mirror.. And you break down all over again.