imissyouverybig
and you are back to your place. yes, your place. yes, the place you call your own without ever pertaining to the legalities and documented rights. yes, the place your heart never ceases to recognize, the place that always abates your mind’s unwarranted uproarings.
but what it once had been untarnished performance was multiple times slaughtered tonight. because for the hundredth time that you tried to seek solace in its bosom, it also for the hundredth time failed you. every try breaks your heart even more than the last time.
after some more futile attempts, you gave up. you got up and turned your back from the water that always witness your teary cheeks. you got up and turned your ears deaf from the once-soothing sound of waves spanking the rocks at the side of the street. you got up and turned your eyes closed on the playful bright lights of the streetlamps. you got up and started to trek your way towards the dormitory. you got up and you gave up.
you finally discovered how tremendously you are aching that no world’s wonder can abate it. because no other presence you are craving than his.
imissyouverybig (a sequel)
After some months, you came back. Filled with same different thoughts and different same sentiments. You remembered the last time you saw your place; the first time it failed you. Now you were there with same hope that it could succeed in making you less lost and less of a walkin-depression. This time might be the time for it to redeem its lost old glory.
You started staring off into the vast night of starless, moonless sky. One down, you thought. For the moon and the stars were your favorites in that place along with hundred others. You gazed at the familiar vast black water, the seemingly crystal waves hitting the rocks, the colorful lights of the distannt yatch sailing across the lake to entertain the diners. Immediately, the sadness plummeted a degree lower. Auditory channels became sensitive of the blurry sound of fast cars on the highway behind you, the bus screeching to halts, the balut vendors calling out to people amidst the bellows of your ipod. The familiar tingles ran down your spine, taking more depression in an avalanche. You shifted to a comfortable position on the rocks you were sitting on. For the first time after thousand nights or so, you were positive.
You started to get up, get up and leave your place. You started to trek towards the dormitory. With your every step, you thought that you might not be positively blissful of the night’s outcome but still glad that you’re not exactly on the deconstructively depressive end of the continuum. You felt almost convincingly all right even when you knew that as the vast starless, moonless night were hugging you and kissing you tenderly, he was kissing and embracing her with more passion than he ever gave you.
Status: Lots of TO-DOs is real time.
There are too many things I am wanting to do. But being so Cami-like as always, i don’t get around into doing even a quarter of my terribly long To-do list. So in the hope of inspiring myself, i thought of writing them all down here. Who knows, maybe after forty-five years and I read this post again, I will finally muster enough will to battle with laziness.
1. Do yoga. Or pole dancing. Or pilates. Or maybe swimming. Heck, I will love forever anybody who will make me run/brisk walk at least five laps a day.
2. Start my fruit diet. There is nothing really hard on this one, I love fruits. Well, that is besides the fact that I have to haul myself into the market three blocks away from my house, or to the supermarket, which is one jeepney ride away. And no, I won’t accept that I am lazy. No, I am just stressed out most of the time that I’d rather lie in bed during my free time than go to a smelly market. Plus, I go home mega late at night. And I wake up late for work every morning. No time to spare for trips to nearby markets, really.
3. Write at least three decent posts EVERY week. And I say decent. Not a post of three sentences that shouts how frustrated I am about my guy. I know I really should start talking about something else. Or the more apt thing to say is, I really should make my fingers run over the keyboard on moments I am not thinking about him. Like maybe when I am obsessing about my weight, or like when I want to curse that cab driver who purposely chose route of heavy traffic to gain more meter.
4. Getting a new house. I mean, finding a new apartment. I want to live independently. For real. The house I am living at at the moment has this stupid rule of not allowing guys upstairs. How can I bring friends over? How can I bring my guy over? Such a waste of space and proper time together.
5. Opening a bank account. Seriously. I have been putting this off for months. And the guy has been eating my ears off for the last year with litanies about how I should start saving money to gear up for the proverbial rainy days. I have been reasoning out that I lack identification, thus no bank entertains me.. But really, I should know better. Plus, his words are crawling even in my sleep every time I purchase something really important, like a new pair of shoes.
6. Start my day early. In all honesty, I do wake up early, as early as six or seven am. But after checking my phone for messages, answering clients’ early work messages (such corporate slaves, they are), and forwarding a good morning to the guy, I go back to covet some sleep I feel I am so deprived of. After an hour or so, I’d wake up and read books for some while until the clock hits 9:45. 9:45 rings, I’d scramble out of bed, all the while cursing myself again about how such a tardy employee I really am.
7. There are just so many to complete this list. So I am leaving the rest out and concentrate on the more urgent ones instead. -> This is actually another way of saying I am lazy to actually finish writing my list.
Status: Two lucks out of three.
They say we are such a mess but I think they just don’t understand (I might laugh at myself in five years’ time for writing this but who cares, that’s still a long time to come). Most will find this weird but I feel lucky to have him with me on these times. He is definitely far from being perfect, he has too many flaws that he even barely pass as good. But he knows me and he knows how to make my life far from being bland and truthfully boring. He knows how to keep things going and he knows how to keep me interested (though I highly doubt that he’s consciously aware of it). He knows me and he cares for me, even during those times that he doesn’t seem to be. He knows me and he knows how to treat me even before I realize how I want to be treated. He knows me and I do think that is why he is what he is with me.
I am not a masochist, if that’s where your thought is heading. In fact, I am your lady version of a jerk guy most people hate the most. I make guys fall for me (and really work on making them fall for me, I do), only to leave halfway during their fast, spiraling fall.. letting the rough stony ground to catch them tight. Yes, I am that and more.
In lieu of all that I am, he is never the guy to give me too much affection. He cares, and he shares, and he meddles with my affairs but he is never to be caught giving too much. He makes himself relevant in my life, indispensable even. He stays and he sashays around my life, but he never let himself constantly visible. He keeps me at arms length, close but just not close enough to make me run for air and space. Through his way, he never allowed me to be a bitch. I can never leave him because I never really saw him fast falling.
And in lieu of all that he is, I always eye him with hungry eyes – yes, sometimes I do catch myself looking at this as if everything is a game I must come out winning. I want him to fall for me. Badly. But he just keeps me at arms length. Though truthfully, on days that I am not looking at him with such ravingly competitive eyes, I feel so grateful for him for this very reason.
Because he knows what’s good for both of us. Because he chose the way to keep us stronger and better. Because he wants us to stay longer, and if possible, forever (until we get white hairs, he used to say).
Because I know that he may not come to me close enough, he’ll never leave me as well. What proof can I give but those three times he came to find me again.
I know that he might not have fallen, but he climbed his way down to me. For this alone, I feel extremely lucky to have him in my life.
