#hazeloo

My last heartbreak was a kick in the nuts. (Yes, I don’t have nuts but boy, did it hurt.) For the past two days, I feel like I have been living it again.

I tried to make sense of my feelings. I tried looking for things I wrote during that time so I can better understand myself but I can’t find anything. I saw some things that I’m sure were about him but nothing I wrote myself. The reason is because, God, I was broken. I remember doing a lot of things to help me forget but sadly, writing made me remember.

We were friends. 

I think I always knew that I didn’t have a chance with him. 

I think I always knew that he would never care for me as much as I cared for him. 

I think I always knew that I will always be just a friend to him.  

I knew these things but the knowledge didn’t stop me. I continued caring for him, giving him time, teaching him, because helping him get better made me happy. 

For me, that’s love in its purest form. 

At that time, I taught myself that I label my feelings. I never called it love. But maybe, I did love him a little. 

When I was in high school, I wrote a lot. I kept an almost regular blog. I was also writing poems left and right for love. 

I had a dream then.

I wanted to be like Shakespeare. I wanted to be eternal, never forgotten. I knew that I am only human and I will not live forever. I wanted to be remembered through my works. I wanted it so bad that I felt like I would go crazy if I didn’t achieve it. There were times that I would get so frustrated because I didn’t know how to achieve my dream.

I guess somehow from then to here, or better yet, from then a long while back, I gave up. 

I wanted to become a writer but I took up Nursing then studied Medicine both of which killed all of my hopes and dreams.

Honestly, I got scared. I really didn’t have it in me to pursue it but eventually find out that I am not good enough. I wanted it so much but I preferred non pursuance instead of failure.  

I would love to say that I regret giving up on my dream. I would love to say that I will now be actively pursuing it. But I cannot.

Contrary to popular belief, giving your best and doing your all do not guarantee the achievement of your dreams. 

“Is she really that terrified of being alone that she is willing to settle for that trash?”

“Maybe.”

It makes me sad for my friend. Granted, being alone is terrifying and sometimes, I miss the warmth of another person next to me. I am proud that as lonely and crazy and miserable I might be right now.

I am not settling.

If it is not the love that makes me feel alive.

If it is not the love that makes me want to write poems again.

I am writing and waiting. As much as I want to put a deeper meaning and a bigger reason as to why I am writing and waiting, there is none. I am just literally writing and waiting in the hope that if I do so, I might revive some of my writing gift and use them this coming week. Hehehe. 

The “Why Am I Single?” Person. This person can explain electricity, the Pythagorean theorem, and why leap year exists, but the one question to which they have no answer is why they’re single. And they want to know why, goddammit. They will ask you when you’re contemplating putting your dog to sleep, they will ask you when you’ve scraped your knee, they will ask you when you call to tell them you’ve been laid off. “God, isn’t life a bitch? I mean, look at you. Such a good person. I can’t believe you have to get your leg amputated. And me! Single as a seahorse. What gives? The universe is conspiring against us.”

The Forever Alone. The Forever Alone is often confused with the Asexual but unlike the autonomous latter, Forever Alones wantcompanionship. They crave it. They will slay dragons and hide drugs in their anuses and walk geriatric dogs for it. All they need is the chance to prove that their empty Cheetos bags and Reddit karma and expired condoms and dirty fingernails are worthy of an everlasting love. And they are, goddammit. A toilet for every ass!

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/what-kind-of-single-person-are-you/