Did I Just Lose It?

It’s been 10 years from the day she said hello to me and just pulled me into the line for the flag ceremony. She had that warm, friendly smile that made me exclaim to myself “Yipee! I’ve got a new friend!” It was in 2nd year high school. From then on, we instantly became the best of friends. It was the kind of friendship where you’d never see us apart. We spent ALL the time together. We were seatmates. We went to the rest room together. We spent our breaks together. We talked over the phone right after school, not running out of something to talk about. We even shared the same crush!

Everything was so simple back then. It was an incredible friendship. We would look at each other and we would get the signals. By our mere actions or silence, we knew something was wrong, and we couldn’t just wait to be there for each other. Of course there were promises of “best friends” forever. And I believed it would really last.

But things did change. We went off to different college, met different people, had new sets of friends, and went through different experiences. Practically, we grew apart. However, we did manage to keep in touch in all those years despite the distance. We still kept each other updated on what was happening in our life. And I thought it was enough to keep the intensity of the friendship burning.

We pursue our separate careers right now and I’d like to think we’re doing okay. Sure we exchange messages every now and then. I still know that she’s stressed with her work, eh? We still see each other once in a while, do some shopping and catching up over lunch. After 10 years, we remain the same – friends. (Did I just miss typing the word “best?”)

What if what you’ve been holding on for so long turned out to be no longer as precious as it once was? Yes, people change. But I find it weird and at the same time sad, that it got to this point. Do these changes really have to affect the level of affection and the depth of relationship we share with other people? We used to be inseparable, we were like twins! Before, she wouldn’t have to speak a word before I know what’s going through her mind. But now when I try to look at her, all I see is a familiar face with a known background.

We still do tell each other the most unimportant details on what’s happening to our life, our work, family, finances, and plans. But hey, I can write all of these stuffs here and anyone who reads it would know exactly what she does! Is it the only thing that constitutes a friendship? Is friendship all about sharing what you do in your life?

10 years ago, I would run to her if my eyes couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I knew nobody in my little world would understand me better than she could. I had the instinct to share with her my innermost secrets, my deepest feelings. And I believe I had found a friend in her back then. Because we shared more than just routines. We shared a life.

Now I wonder, could she have the wildest guess on how I truly feel by mere looking at me? I bet not. You ask me, who would I run to when the worst time comes? I won’t be even that confident that she’d be in my top 5 list. I don’t know. And that’s the painful part of it. The fact that I don’t know.

We’re different individuals now. Totally different. I know the friendship is still there. It’s not as if I woke up one day and bam! We’re already strangers to each other. But it breaks my heart thinking how far we have drifted apart. The changes in a person are easier to accept, but losing the main thing where the friendship is built in is quite hard to comprehend.

The friendship. Do I just fail to acknowledge its presence because I don’t want to accept that things changed? Or have I just lost confidence on it that I choose to shut myself and magnify the differences we have? Or simply, did I just lose it?

One Step Ahead

Some people tell me my life is close to perfect. I have a stable job (we run our own business so it’s a family thing, lol), I have the capacity to indulge myself with the things that I want and sometimes they do cost a lot but anyways, I have the right to have some form of enjoyment, right? But of course there would always be something missing. Some people tell me: your boyfriend must be very lucky. And I’d just laugh about it. People make it seem that having a boyfriend is like having a job. If you’re single, you’re missing half of your life, you must be very fortunate to survive this world. Who in the world set that standard? Yeah I understand it’s a companionship thing. It must have branched from the philosophy that no man is an island. I still believe in that, though.

I’ve always told myself and all these people who untiringly question my status that I’m happy with how things are going. That I have other more important things to do than fret over such nonsense. That I’m in the process of discovering myself and it’s more thrilling than anything else. That the guys left in this planet just seem not to be capable enough to get through me. Well I still hold these true for myself. But hey once and for all I think I also need to be honest right? There are moments, especially when I just ran out of the “more important things to do,” that I get to think if there really is somebody out there meant for me. There’s still this crumb of hope that someone will really be brave enough to get through me.

I once thought that somebody I once cared for was really lucky to have me. But apparently, some things don’t go the way we want them to. That relationship of mine bruised all my hope for happy endings. Since then, I was hardly convinced that there could still be such thing. People term that feeling bitterness, but I guess after you’ve given practically your everything to somebody and it didn’t work out would leave you some form of hostility and doubt towards the world right? Or am I just trying to make it sound less bitter? Hehe.

Learning that this person had finally found somebody he might consider having a relationship with gave me a certain feeling I can’t still identify. Anger? Why? We’re friends. Weird as it is but yeah, we’re friends. He was the one who told me about his newly found prospect after all these years. He may have hurt me countless times before and there was that chapter in our life that I hated him, but after all these years, hatred is the last thing I’d want to feel. It’s just not very rewarding.

Jealous? Nah, the feeling has already passed a long time ago and being jealous would be a form of suicide already. It will only be possible if I still have feelings for him, eh? But the thing is, my mind already repels such idea. It’s just not him and I’ve already accepted that. The feeling is like, after all these years that I thought being alone is not that bad a thing (which I still think is), he would suddenly tell me that someone is making him feel adored, wanted, and who knows…maybe loved. It’s been quite a while since somebody made me feel that way. Once, I took my chances admitting to myself that finally I have felt something for another person and yet it still didn’t end up the way I imagined. Isn’t it cruel? Well, that’s entirely different story.

It’s just sad that I’ve blinded myself with the pain I’ve nurtured for so long that maybe I’ve already pushed away people I truly cherish, only because I guarded myself too much. Maybe I was the one who didn’t want them to get through me in the first place. And I envy him for having found the courage to really take the risk with someone else. He’s right, I haven’t been very honest to myself because all along I’ve been too afraid. Damn it, he knows me too well to spot the very thing I mask to myself, more so to other people. Somehow, it’s a good thing making me realize all these.

Surprisingly, a part of me still believes in happy endings. It’s never too late to start all over again. I can still work my way back on track. He’s just one step ahead. I believe I’ll reach that point as well, in God’s own time.

The Same Old Song

It's midnight. My nerves seem to be all excited and hyperactive. I already arranged my closet and threw some trash I saw in the room. What else was left to do? My night stand. I'm not quite sure if it was a good decision to clean the clutters I continue to mess with anyway. But with all my nerves not wanting me to just sit and read a good book, I decided to arrange it anyway.

Now this is the exciting part of seeing old piles of papers. I found an old envelope with quite thick bunch of bond papers with lots of writings (something that looks like this haha). I couldn't help but read through the pages again. Yeah, this one was familiar.

Year 2005. An old story. Good heavens how I have always loved narrating stories, mostly my own. It still makes me grin alone, being refreshed with everything that happened in the past. And there I was too preoccupied by the pain and miseries as I always called it. Now there's no point in denying it, I still got those pages to prove how feeble and shattered I can be. That had a really sad part and I still find myself sympathizing with that girl in the story - me in 2005.

Having quite a "record" of such significant events has its own benefits by the way. Well it gives me a shake to what has already happened, and repeating the same plot of the story is quite boring already. And damn stupid I'll label myself if I'd see another few pages in different time frames indicating similar stories and the same old feelings of helplessness. When can I ever learn, huh?

Another set of envelopes within that brown envelope I found. This one's a school envelope, two different school envelopes. It gave me a sudden shiver. It didn't have the usual emotional tales I used to have that I can just laugh about once again. This time, I didn't write this one. They were given to me a few years back.

Year 2002. Should already be called historic, don't you think? Both contained printed poems. Some confession of pain of losing someone and some declaration of a creed of love. Both didn't have my name on it, though; but I very well remember those instance how the dorm security guard teased me while handing me the envelopes. Reading the poems again made me smile. Not the grin I had awhile ago, rather it was a smile of a sad missing and I still am wearing that smile right now. Back then, this person meant nothing more than a stronger. And it amused me, receiving such kinds of letters from him.

Year 2007, present. My nerves aren't hyperactive anymore. At last I can start making some sort of sleep to brush away all the feelings brought back by those two silly envelopes. Having found them should barely have any impact on me. Not if there was something else that happened in between. And my peaceful nerves do not want to entertain any other thoughts besides the warm feeling I already relished upon reading the letters. The other part of the "something else" would just spoil it anyway.

It's been 5 years now. Who would imagine that some untouched piles of seemingly trash would make me do another page that would add to it? Indeed, old files bring back memories. Some you'd be happy recalling. Some would just tear you apart again and again. Some would just make you sigh.

And so do songs. You bet I'm listening to some song right now. I somehow have the notion that each song represents some significant stories in our life, or a certain person. It's like I'm being read with the stories I keep and forget for a while then relive again. I guess I never learn. I can see another me, version 2007. I bet I'm gonna laugh at myself 5 years from now when my nerves start to become too excited again to make me sleep.

But for now, I know I would play the same old song, until I find a new one.

Inspired by: Utada Hikaru

You Don't Have To

I did not expect you'd pop again from nowhere after quite some time of not hearing even your slightest breath. You come and go as you please, and of course I was again left vulnerable given the circumstance. Not that I have the thinnest right to be mad, but who cares, I've always hated you for that.

Incredible as it may sound, I've always given a way for the other mask of mine to surface in a situation that calls for it. I managed to ask how you've been doing, right? Well, that was for starters. Even a fool could've asked that. But I think I were able to make the conversation as light as it has used to, weren't I? Or was it you who did? Either way, I made it to a point that you would never notice that I was once, and still is dumbfounded how fast everything seemed to begin...and end. I survived that 40-minute-here's-what-happened-talk well anyhow, whew!

It was not easy though, you know. The moment you appeared, I couldn't help feeling something in me leaped. I couldn't very well spell it out loud here now, coz it will make the whole thing more foolish than it already seems.

I don't want to sound more dramatic. That's the last impression I'd want to give. But hey, as bubbly as I am, I'm still a girl and there remains the slightest touch of sensitivity in my system. I'm sick and tired of going on that rollercoaster ride again, feeling trapped. You give me the feeling that I have no any form of escape in your hands, darn it. So stop playing on me. But nah, I don't think you were playing anyway. It's just the way you are.

But the thing is, you don't have to speak of anything you don't have the slightest intention of meaning. You must not even dare think about it. What pleasure does it give you, giving a promise you don't intend to keep, much less to even just remember? Promises are meant to broken, eh? I thought you were just trying to be funny and so I laughed about it. I must have taken that warning seriously.

So quit the trying-to-make-me-feel-assured-tone that you're actually going to make any of it happen. You don't have to say anything just to keep me appeased because I am rather enraged by every single thing you say, knowing that it's just nonsense to you, that you'll just forget after your short-term memory reaches its maximum level.

You see, I'm tired of it. But still here I am making a big fuss over such a petty thing. Do you sense a tone of the silliest hope that at some point or another, you can actually make me realize I got it all wrong? Or does that other mask of mine just succeeded to show off that I am the least bit interested person on earth to be holding on to those unrealiable promises of yours?

Still I say, if you don't mean it, then you don't have to.