the girl in between her thoughts and words

I’ve never been into a relationship that really lasted long. I’ve never been the girl that was kept. I don’t really know what to do in a relationship. Usually the beginning of the relationship is all hearts and butterflies. No fights, and if there is, it’s just some cutesy argument or annoying one another. I like that. I love that phase, who wouldn’t? But that’s the phase you still try to impress your lover while you two get to know each other. I love those sweet endearments, and those endless reminders of how my significant other loves me. I love all those cheesy stuff. 

But I know, it’s not always like that. It won’t remain like that. There will be conflicts, probably in schedule, because of the people around us, or because of us ourselves. 

I like consistency, man. If you stopped calling me whatever sweet endearment you use, I would worry. If the way you message me changes a bit, I’d sense something wrong. (Sometimes, it’s just me so I try to set this one aside) but it makes me worry if I am making you feel bored, or you’re getting tired of me, and/or you don’t want to be with me anymore.  You know what’s even worse? This is also the phase I would get really attached to you so when I’ve noticed those things I’ve said above, it’s just gonna unlock my annoying and very dramatic side. If you’re annoyed, trust me, I’ve even more annoyed. I just used the words three times. This is where I would or would not probably tell you about my worries and insecurities. This is where I would get jealous easily and hope that you’d notice im not okay because I won’t tell you. (Unless you really did not notice)  I get scared on this part because this is not something good about me. This is exhausting. That’s why I would worry a lot and a lot. 

I was having a late night road trip with some of my good old friends. Not that we planned it to happen. It just happened. We watched a play somewhere in the place we really are not familiar with. We were told that one of my friends’ sister was gonna pick us up, but she’s gonna be late. And, it’s just an hour left before midnight. We were in the place we do not really know, it was not good for us to stay there. We then started to casually asked how are we gonna go home. We were trying to think of plans from the little knowledge we have about where we are. E. Rodriguez Road, as they call it. We crossed the road to take a jeepney to somewhere which is more familiar. Sort of. However, we do not really know what to do after that. There is still blurry assurance on how we are going to get our asses home and safe. We were standing there in the side walk. I was kind of thrilled that this is again, another adventure for us. We were in front of Brgy. Mariana Park. My friend called her sister, asked for some directions. We kind of decided to take a cab going to that place we were talking about, then, my friend’s sister suggested that we just take a cab to take us straight home. She asked the driver. It is legit far that is why the price is really high and we are students, we do not want to pay that much. Besides, we have spent a lot already. That is when we booked a car. Called for an Uber. The price is less than the regular cab.The driver is kind and approachable. 

So we were there, inside the small black car. Listening to the radio playing some old and not so old songs. Not really my jam but was good to accompany us at the moment. My friend was in the front passenger seat, and I was with our another friend in the back seat having a small talk. She suddenly felt sleepy. She laid her head on my lap. We were all silent. I was staring outside the window, looking at the closed buildings, 24 hour businesses, people rushing home or still having the time of their lives, traffic lights, and the city that is half asleep.  

I really don’t know how to start letters like this but let me try. So here, I’m writing you a letter and if ever you get to read this you’d probably have the idea that it’s you.

Here are the things I wanna tell you but I can’t and I probably won’t. Part of me hopes you’d get to read this and part of me wishes you won’t. That’s why I tried to make it subtle by putting it in my bio in twitter thinking of the possibility you’d stalk me there.

I just watched Letters to Juliet. It’s nothing new to me. I’ve watched it for who knows how many times and if you’ve seen that already then you’d understand what I’m saying. I can see myself in the character of Sophie being in love with Victor who is preoccupied with his own thing. She then meets Charlie who’s skeptical about love but really is warm and such.

You know what, I’ve been always like that. Falling for someone who likes me but not really. Not enough to make me a priority. I am just someone who is important but not loved.

The first guy whom I shared a past with lowkey made me a rebound. He ended things between us by telling me he doesn’t see the a future with me. True. However, what’s more true is that he’s still not over with his ex. But that was so years ago, I’m good friends with him now.

The second guy was just someone who happened to have a crush on me. He was just infatuated with me and when things get tough, or if we fight, he doesn’t wanna work it out. Even if it just started because of a stupid thing, he’d rather end it. Then it was just weeks I think after we called it off, he’s already flirting with someone else. You see, I’m easy to be replaced. Although it does not matter to me anymore.

Third, this guy’s my first boyfriend like legit we became official but remained a secret. He was different from the two. I’m his first. The thing is he realized that he isn’t ready yet. He can’t balance acads and relationship. I get it. I super get it. So I gave way because “Irish is not a priority”. A year has passed, he came back. Not to make it official but to tell me that he’s still not over me. He wanted me by his side but there’s no label. I’m not demanding for a label right away though. I told him I’ll wait when he’s ready. I just want assurance. I asked him, “what are we?” And he can’t answer. Silence took over. And it’s not even a yes or no question. So I don’t know what his silence means. I cried. I fucking cried in front of him. He can’t even utter a word. But I know, guilt is visible in his eyes. He’s uncertain. He kept silent because he doesn’t want to give a wrong answer but little did he know that his silence is enough. However, we still continued whatever it is that’s going on between us. But then, as time goes by, I started to ask what am I to him? Where do I stand? Do I even deserve this? I am not his girl, he is not mine but I am committed-ish to him. I also have realized how he is treating me. I am his accessory. I may be important to him but not as much as those things he truly values. I can’t even see our common ground. They say opposites attract, yeah right but it’s not working. We attracted each other but it doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together. With that, he’s slowly losing me until my feelings for him completely faded. I ended things between us. Even though I really don’t know what is between us. But guess what, it’s as if it doesn’t matter to him. His long reply to me boils down to, ‘if that’s what you want, then okay’. It also appeared that he’s just waiting for me to say it because he’s too guilty to do that.

No it’s not like someone cheated on me. It’s not like I’ve been abused. But these guys didn’t see my worth and value. Am I even worthy or valued?

I should be afraid to fall for someone who’s then again uncertain.

But I am not. I am not afraid. I am already numb that I am used to it.

The people who are uncertain of being with me made me feel like I am hard to love. With that, I also find it hard to love myself. Yeah, I got flaws. I have issues, I am needy. I am hopeless romantic. I just over think and doubt myself, what if I mess things up? How should I act around? I am so awkward. I am an emotional wreck. I wanna fall in love with someone who’d also love me and I won’t worry.

Then, there’s you.

You who’s afraid to fall in love.

I know there’s a story behind that. You have your own story that I don’t know.

But what can I do?

So, I really can relate with Letters to Juliet. I am Sophie who left Victor and found Charlie who’s kind of skeptic (which I thought of you haha). They ended up together. Happy ending yeah. But I don’t know. This is real life and nothing has even started (yet?).

I don’t know if I’ll have the courage to have you read this. I just wanna let it out.

There’s actually songs I can freaking relate to. -Terrified by Katharine McPhee -I Wouldn’t Mind by He is We -Call Me Hopeless But Not Romantic by Mayday Parade -Tadhana by UDD -ILYSB - Lany (you recommended me this song lol) -Paano Ba Magmahal by Sarah G and Piolo Pascual -What If by Colbie Caillat

Sooooo how am I gonna start this? I have been planning to create a blog and I was not able to write it down because: one, I don’t know how to begin; two, I am lazy, I procrastinate a lot; three, I get distracted easily; four, I do not know what to say; lastly, I have my own issues. However, now that I made up my mind to type it down, I had troubles signing in, I even had to reset my password.

It’s been a long time since the last piece I have written. I have read my past blogs and I have seen that I really am struggling with my thoughts, emotions, and the words I use. 

By the way, I am listening to Troye Sivan’s Blue as I write this one. Not that it really matters though but I think listening to a good song can fire up thoughts. Nevermind. Yes, I know, organization of thoughts game is weak. 

As I was saying, I really am struggling. I stopped writing due to the reasons only I am responsible of. 

This is not to brag or something but I was awarded with this “Writer of the Year” in my 6th grade graduation as well as in high school graduation together with “Journalist of the Year”. I have been made the school paper’s EIC. I was receiving good comments about the pieces I have written such as the required essays and stuff. However, when I look at it, I ask myself, “Do I deserve these?” Funny how people would react why didn’t I pursue something related to writing.

This is one of the reasons why I stopped. So, I really do not know where am I going to mention the reasons and how am I going to tell them all in order. Let’s just pretend I had this organized. (My mind, as of now, is really a total mess, bear with me) 

To be honest, I really do not like reading my old stories, poems, essays, articles, and stories again because of my childish thoughts and horrible grammar or I was so cheesy, I cringed. There I said it and I have to expound. I have read other people’s written works, and man! Their words are so beautiful. Their thoughts are so organized and their ideas are explained clearly. I got insecure and I felt bad for myself because I can’t even collect my thoughts well, I mean, when I thought of a quote worthy statement before I get to write it I have forgotten it already. It sucks, I tell you. Another thing, when I had it collected and thought of it very well, I guess not very well though, I will hold my pen and stare at my blank paper and my mind goes blank too. Also, I was not able to continue my pending stories because even I had the plot already, as well as the ending but I do not know how to make the story go to this part or that part without messing it all up. Also, I was devastated when I did not get to win in the RSPC, Copy reading and Headline Writing Category. I acted like I did not care but I really did. I do know it is my fault that I did not give my best effort because I really am more into creative writing than in journalism but because of losing, I also lost interest. 

I was so frustrated at myself, I did not bother to continue all those I have started to write. Also, I procrastinate and this is really a problem. I cry. Anyway, I also do not like to be so wordy when I am pointing out a little and I am saying a lot but I just cannot help it. Well, I am trying to or at least trying to try but I end up saying the least of what I want to say, whatever. So here, I thought that what if writing is just my childhood hobby. However, I missed writing like I bought lots of notebooks and journals for me to be inspired. I just do not know what to write! 

I even made a poem about it saying it was I who turned my back away from writing. I joined an org and signed up for its paper. I planned to have an intense soul searching away from this place that I find exhausting. So there, I went to places with people I really do not know, even their language. I brought two journals to take down my thoughts and emotions as I explore but I achieved nothing. However, I did see how messed up I am, even the required papers I pass in school were written out of mediocrity.

One time I was waiting for my next class. I was bored and I checked all the apps I have in my phone. I checked my notes that were saved years ago about the story I was planning to write. Another is Plain Text where I had three different stories that are still unfinished and two short stories. Suddenly, I got this nostalgic feeling. I have seen my notebooks at home filled with stories, I actually have a shelf for all those notebooks. I just wanted to cry because I wanna write again but I do not know how to start again. I also had this conversation with a college friend about the short films my girls planned but were not made possible.

I did realize that, I hated my pieces because of their flaws, when in the first place, I was the one who wrote them all. However, when I was writing those stories and as I finished writing them, I was delighted and I was happy making my friends read them. I also realized that, that is why I cannot write again because I do not want to start from scratch, I wanted it to be perfect right away but I do not know how. Well, I was reminded by the terms, revising, editing and rewriting though. Silly me. 

I am not yet continuing what I had put on pause and I do not know why, probably I am lazy or still scared. Even writing this one took so long, if it is not for a friend who motivated me with her blog.

Motivation please! haha

I do not how how to end this with a high note, but let me try. I once had a conversation with this stranger I met in omegle. He’s a filmmaker, he told me and he also used to write for his indie films. When I told him about my writing issues, he told me this, “You can pause, or take a break. But don’t. DON’T EVER STOP WRITING.”