There’s always a rainbow after the rain…

The rain has passed.

After jumping back and forth on the several stages of that healing process: shock, denial, anger, worthlessness, acceptance, anger, acceptance, denial, acceptance, rehabilitation, reconstruction, I can finally say that I am in that final stage: compassion. I’m fine. I am finally happy.

Life is indeed beautiful. It will open your eyes. It will make you see that the things that had seemed so impossible really are possible. You may get hurt in the process but all wounds heal. Pain is not forever.

Life will teach lessons that may unfold painfully but still…you learn.

Forgive but don’t forget.

I have forgiven you for cluelessly leaving me six years ago and again…now. You have your reasons and I don’t want to know what they are anymore, because I have learned to respect people and their decisions. I have forgiven myself for not standing up after falling flat on my face, depending on someone for MY happiness and inviting anger and self pity as a weapon to forget. But I will not forget. I will not forget the lessons you taught me along the way. You had been the shoulder that I leaned on twice. And it only proves that you’re a good man who deserves all the happiness in this world. And I truly understand that I am not part of that. That’s why you left.

There are things better left unsaid.

The truth won’t set everyone free. Sometimes it could only complicate things. I learned that people must sometimes keep quiet, say nothing or lie just to keep someone out of their crazy lives so that one person won’t be swayed from living their own lives. Especially if you want that someone to be happy. I want you to be happy. And I had to lie. I had to make you believe that I just used you, that I didn’t feel anything, that I was numb. I had to make you think that I am that type of woman whom you can’t trust, who can possibly do horrible things, who didn’t take relationships seriously. I just had to make you believe that I don’t love you. I had to make you believe that I love someone else. I just had to.Because I learned that the truth wouldn’t change anything. I’ve gotten used to thinking that what’s true don’t always lead to a happy ending. Might as well lie, so others would be happy. The utilitarian principle applies.

Everything comes to an end.

Nothing is permanent in this world. Leaves fall. Flowers whither. Even movies have their ending.  Closure is necessary so everyone can finally take a deep breath and move on with their lives. If there is no ending, no closure, a new chapter will never begin. There really is something “good” in goodbye. Spectacular things will be revealed which makes it more exciting. I was once stuck for a brief moment but I have realized that I have to move. There’s no other way but forward.

Everything happens for a reason.

The reason for seeing you again is clear to me now. It’s to make me realize that people like me can love, get hurt, get up again and find a happy ending. Maybe the happy ending is not finding a guy. Maybe the happy ending is just me, picking up the pieces, starting over and moving on.

Thank you. It was one awesome adventure. 

And the crown goes to…

When I was a kid, I remember coming home crying. My dad asked why and my reason was this: I got voted class president. My dad said, “that’s great, you’ll lead the class, what’s wrong with that?” Then I replied, “I wanted to be the muse”. Till now my dad tells that story to everyone. And every time he did, they would laugh. I didn’t know why though.

Then there’s this one time I was asked what I wanted to be when I grow up, I said, “ I want to be an SM sales lady”. Everyone would laugh. Again, I didn’t know why.

Editor in Chief of our High School paper, I was tasked to represent our school in that National Press Conference. They had a beauty pageant and my adviser dressed me up to join. I won, “Ms. Friendship.”

There was even a time when I’m about to meet this guy for the first time who ran like there’s a stampede going on when he saw me in person.

My exes told me that I’m the most beautiful thing that ever happened to them. But take note of the word “thing”.  And every time these exes were asked what is it in me that they love most, they’d tell me, “matalino ka, funny,  mabait, malambing, maasikaso”…”ano pa?” …”inaantok na ko, tulog na tayo.”

Okay, stop laughing.

Well I was programmed to believe that I was pretty. What kind of mother or father would look their kid in the eye and tell her, “hey, you’re ugly, don’t go outside.” or “ we’re very sorry if you ended up like that, I ate something really bad when I was conceiving.” Of course they’d tell you’re pretty. Just to boost your confidence or something. Or maybe just by telling you the truth it’ll slap their faces that your genes came from them. Or just by looking at your parents the truth will strike you you’d asked them, “sinong totoo kong magulang?”( I once entertained that thought)

So what am I saying here?  At this point in my life, it’s just now that I realized that in this crazy world, looks has always been a qualifying factor. That in this world, the reality is that, pathetic guys, those dipsh*ts,  go for those women with slender arms, manicured nails, long shiny hair and the Angelina Jolie look. And those pathetic guys are the ones you want. That being “unpretty” can be a reason for those pathetic douche bags not wanting you. Which I think is pathetic. But hey, that’s how it is. (I’ve seen a lot of women cry over those guys who ditched them saying the spark was gone and all that, then they settle with a prettier girl...F*ck that spark-lie, it isnt true, the only thing that should spark are their houses when you burn them..just kidding)

So what we foxy, awesome, funny, smart , pretty (in the truest sense of the word) women can do (aside from getting a nose job, plastic surgery or soaking our faces in salted water with chlorine) is dump those guys, forget about them, go for those who are in their sane mind who sees the real beauty in us, inside and out, beyond our skin. Those men who would make us feel that we are Angelina Jolie, treating us like a real Beauty Queen.

Because these are the men who have the balls and are brave enough to fall in love. These are the men who wouldn’t give you any reasons why they love you, because the heart can’t think nor rationalize, it could only feel. They are the ones who can look us straight in the eye and say, “YOU MADE MY LIFE BEAUTIFUL”.

“When life gives you lemons….”

I have a confession to make. About two weeks ago, I was like the lead role in the film He’s Just Not that Into You. That stupid desperate woman who was so stuck up in finding her one true love. Throwing herself out (not literally) to every guy she thinks was giving out signals that he likes her so she did things that made them ignore her. Making her feel like a loser.  Making her feel left out.

But like any film that ends, that emptiness ended. Because Gigi or Anne or any woman ultimately has their own turning point. Mine came like how that cliché is all explained to us: “when life gives you lemons, make lemonades”.

I learned how to be delighted in simple things. No lines in atms. Free toilet paper with a pack of diapers. And to top it all just looking at the stars at night wraps up my crazed up day.

Simply put, I’ve learned to accept what life gives me. I’ve learned to understand that you can’t get  everything you want. I’ve learned that though you really want something that bad, all you could do is wait until you’re just too tired of waiting, too tired of pretending, too tired of expecting. Too sick and tired of being sick and tired.

You just have to graciously welcome all those disappointments with your head up and your eyes wide open. That overrated word “ happiness” does not depend on anyone but yourself. That overused third act “finding your true love” does not literally mean “look for” or “search”. It just comes…like a lemon dropping off a tree.

It’s not giving up. It’s just acceptance. Swallow it bit by bit. Take it one frustration at a time. And maybe just maybe, you’ll get used to it too. Like its second nature. Like its normal. Because you just can’t stop those damn lemons from falling off.

Singleness is next to godliness

 Just yesterday, I saw a couple fighting in the mall. The guy hit the woman really hard in the face with his fist. The woman cried terribly. She was dragged to a corner. Their young kid just watched them innocently. What a scene. I could tell you that. I’ve never seen such a violent combat done in public, well of course there’s Eminem’s music video, but in real life and in public? It was too much for me. I pity the woman because she really is beautiful but quite stupid hanging around with a jerk like that when she knows she deserves someone better. She’s better off single. It was obviously the newest form of self flagellation.

These are the times I thank God I am single.
I’ve been single for almost a month now. The moment the last guy I was with broke up with me (yeah, yeah he ended it, so what?) I shouted like Mel Gibson in Braveheart “FREEDOM!” in my head.

It’s quite liberating to finally have to decide on things. It feels great to choose what I wanna wear. It feels good to redecorate my bedroom as I want to. My own bathroom.  My own money. It feels good to walk in a mall alone without anyone looking at me then turning their eyes on him like they were trying to say  ”what is this gurl thinking?”. You know, the they-don’t-look-good-together-look.  It feels exciting just saying “NEXT” or who’s gonna get the House and Goddess Showcase this time.

It feels good to finally realize that loving myself first should be the first rule in a relationship. Believe me, you’d fall flat in the face if you lose yourself for someone then later on be confronted with the truth that he’s just not that into you.

So then you ask, “then how do you deal with lonely nights”. Well girl, there are lonely cold nights. Too many of them, I lost count already. But here’s what I think. Better have lonely nights alone than have nights with a man who doesn’t give a damn about what kinda day you had. Worse, sleep beside a guy snoring and hitting you at the same time . Because the minute you turn commitment into an excuse for just having someone beside you, that’s not love, that’s mere dependency and desperation. And I’m just too hot, classy and amazing to be desperate.

Running after you in the rain just ain’t my style anymore

I choose to leave you.

It was just this morning that I realized that I was so tired.

It wasn’t because of the work load for today.

It wasn’t because I have a bad hangover.

It wasn’t because I had to finish my script till 2 am.

It was because I snapped.

I was too tired of arguments.

Too tired of explaining myself.

Too tired of apologizing.

Too tired of being blamed.

Too tired of waiting in vain for nothing.

Too tired of being hurt.

If loving someone would mean

Chaos, complications and sleepless nights

Then I rebuff.

Better to be alone at night

Better to wake up not thinking about anyone anymore.

I refuse to be enslaved.

I refuse to be taken for granted.

I refused to be chained.

I refused to be pinned down to the ground.

I am just too tired…and I’m giving you up…for good!

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.