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Hear Me Out

    I've written this blog a few years ago but I've been holding the appearance of this entry in this account because I am simply not ready to post it. At this stage of my life I am sure that I should be doing the inevitable. I've let a total of five friends read the complete version of this. Why did I choose them you ask? Maybe because I know deep in my being that they will understand why I wrote with so much emotions. They knew what I was going through that time and they didn't patronize me. They let me fell to the deepest and darkest pit of heartbreak and watch as I slowly but surely redeemed myself. After reading it again, its just so fascinating on how someone has the capacity to hurt like that and then eventually got back to the land of the living. 

    It came to a point when I can't simply cry a tear anymore yet my heart is heavier than when I first started crying buckets. One of those who read this was with me during that time and he just stared at me, drank his coffee and asked me to calm down. I believe that this is the most wrecking heartbreak I felt since I learned how to let my heart beat for someone. I didn't have the energy to go to work so he decided to be with me, skipped work and watch a movie. I will forever be grateful for it. :)  

   I don't really understand why I felt that love burst for that individual but I really did. I am sure that he is aware of my feelings even when I wrote this entry until the very end. It is just saddening to note that I was in pain because of an unrequited love. I wonder how many such individuals are experiencing this right now. I am hoping that they'll have the strength and the support system they need to help them through this. God really has His reasons that seems to be absurd when we are feeling that pain but I can now attest that it did me good. I'm stronger now and I value myself more. Read below for the edited version of my blog:

           And it’s in our recent drinking sessions when I cried again. And it’s not like I needed a venue to bare my heart out. Especially if it’s raining because I don’t like formulaic happenings. I hate seeing myself weak with nature agreeing one hundred percent. I don’t need alcohol to cry. I am not accustomed to that excuse. God, I don’t need an audience to console me. I was just simply sitting next to you in their sofa, inches away but felt like you’re in some outer space miles away from me, watching someone as he tries to be the undisputed Karaoke King when, out of nowhere, you blurted out, “I can’t help it. I’m a loner. I want to get drunk alone.”

            And I just felt numbed and then hurt and then just plain drunk. It felt like thousands of needles pierced by heart and then blood oozed out, and then repairing it one hole at a time. And then doing it all over again.  Blame it on the Fundador we shared with the others because I told you to go outside and drink all by yourself. How easily you break my heart, you one hell excuse for a man, you even got the nerve to laugh and said no while I tried to keep a straight face.

            I tried to stay normal. I was the one who opted to go outside. It was then that my tears flowed like there is no tomorrow, with my closest friends as witnesses. Then you went outside, asked me what’s the reason for the drama that I let myself unfold while holding the umbrella that we all shared. I said the one excuse that I love so much I tend to believe its true sometimes. I uttered work. Plain mundane work and the stress that comes along with it. Hoping that you bought my lame excuse. I tried not to stare back at you for fear of betraying myself because I owe myself this. After that they went inside and continued their drinking session, leaving the two of us conversing in nonstop English about all things except the two of us. You even drank the Bacardi mix that was meant for me when I requested it. Which made me want to kiss you right then and there even if I don’t know how to. What the fuck. God, give me the Oscar trophy.

         I once had a conversation with one of my closest college friends on how often we are viewed as the inner beauties. Us being one of the boys. Us being the “I can drink all of those, give me more bottles” kind of girl. Us being the perfect confidants because we give good advices. We being the perfect cigarette buddies because we reek of common sense and guys love that. But not with you. I am a weakling when it comes to you. I threw all my defenses if you’re involved. I want to do things with you. I want to give you all my hard drinks and then exchanging it all for your beer shots every drinking sessions because I know you prefer vodka and tequila over San Mig Light and Red Horse. I want to have a sleep over in your house because I want to feel you close to me and hug you until I fall asleep. I want to smell your aftershave and wake up with you. I want to go shopping with you so that we can share opinions regarding our work clothes and have the taste of both worlds. I want you to give me the assurance that no stress can disrupt me even if a throng of client calls awaits me every night.  I want you to hug me if I’m not being myself or it’s the time of the month. I want to take care of you and fix your clothes if needed. Just like when I fixed your collar during that fateful day. When you chose to broke my heart.

            I guess I’ll find happiness soon. With or without your help. One thing is certain though. There will always be love. Embracing it is up to me. And I am still learning to live with it.

Here's to looking forward for a feel good write up next time. :)




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