It's not pity, it's just the right thing to do.

you laugh at my punchlines...
you say i'm prettiest when i just woke up...
you tell me i'm sexy in my pajamas...

you're the one here with me..
Beside me...
who else will i go to?

you love me though i'm broken...
you love me through my imperfections...
you love me though i've caused you so much pain...

call it pity..call it whatever you want..
all i know is its the right thing to do...

i've come to realize..that its but right to love you back..

Babe, I'm home...

“Again, from the top!.. and one, two, three..”

We love to love and get hurt.  The pain of hurting may seem addictive. Although it may be like that, this emotion can as well be a deep realization that we are indeed ALIVE. Getting hurt may become a gratification of that sinkhole we call love. It may all be a trap of destiny and whoever falls loses and whoever loses the biggest claim supremacy in the tolerance game, the pain threshold league…

Funny how someone after six years of unbearable pain can still savor the bitterness of another pain.

We call it stupidity, craziness, martyrdom. I call it the “what-ifs”, the “what-might-have-happen-after-all-that-has happened” and what ought to be after all that has become. And through this we try to justify, we try to give meaning, we try to reason out…and helplessly we get eaten up by these “what ifs”. and again..before we know it, we are caught up for another round of the paingame.

This is what I have to say…..

I choose what I should remember and forget.. thoughts that tend to prove that I was rejected and hurt-DELETE. He calls it selective amnesia, I call it moving on.

"and the mother of the year award goes to.."

Tired of posting my status on facebook, I finally decided to write WHAT’S ON MY MIND in my own way..no rules..no pathetic  comments and no other people looking at my darn picture asking when I’d schedule for a nose job.

I dream of being a full time mom. (Okay wipe off those tears from laughing before reading on).
I envy that woman in that Nescafe ad who plays with the family dog..fixes her hubby’s tie and takes care of the kids. I dream of growing my own garden full of flowers and veggies and herbs that I can use later for my cooking. I love to cook and I’m good at it.

That typical, conventional stay at home mom who pledged to give up doing her nails, shopping and facials as a living career. That mother who wakes up before everyone else and goes to bed the last, tucking her kids to sleep and singing those lullabyes that she’s never had the chance to hear when she was young. If only I could..I will. But I have no choice.

I am that career woman who wakes up at 4am to plan the menu for the next day and then do the grocery after office. I am that working mom who has to fix her hair, decide on what to wear and put on makeup just before going to work. I am that working woman who has to go to work so early, kiss her kids goodbye while they’re still sleeping and come home only to find that their already sound asleep. I am that career woman who extends her office to her home.

 I am a woman who has to pay the bills, worry for the tuition fees and buy flowers for myself. I am that working mom who finds the littlest pleasure in my kids’ smile and from friends texting, asking how I’m doing. And my answer is the obvious..I’m fine, doing great..Life couldn’t get any better than this.

 Oh well..that may not be entirely true, but what can I say?.. REALITY SUCKS.