I think I may be keeping the wrong doors open while overlooking doors that could lead me to what I look and hope for, and ultimately deserve.
4 days and a million confessions later, nothing. Not that I had hoped for something, because deep down I already knew it would lead to nothing…just as it always has. Not that I expected anything, because this is always how it turns out, this is always what it leaves—just words. Words that my mind sometimes tries to hold on to, if only for the momentary happy feelings. But it’s those same words that I wish were just not said in the first place.
They were sweet words. The perfect words. Words you only wish you’d hear at those exact moments. But that’s all they are—words. If you can’t back ‘em up, no matter how much you stress that you mean what you say, none of it really matters.
“Words don’t mean a thing if you got nothing to show her.” - Marvin’s Room
On that note, I bring this entry to an end, and with it, I close a certain door—hesitantly, might I add, but quite necessarily so.
Girls, know your worth, mmmkay? Know what you want and what you deserve, and never settle for anything less.
Boys, grow up and grow a pair. No woman wants to settle for a boy. We want a MAN.
Can I get a “what, whaaaat”?!
From me, to you.
I recorded this song with my brother…well, honorary brother. His sister’s my bestfriend, and we all grew up together. Seriously, blood couldn’t make us any closer. So yes, I call him my brother. Anyway, like I said, this is a song we recorded together about two years ago in Sydney, and I’ve always been too conscious and self-critical to share this. The other day though, I sent this to a very good friend of mine who gave me that push and confidence boost I think I really needed. Thank you, Elaine :)
It’s a cover of Drake’s song, Marvin’s room. The song is pretty close to my heart because of the lyrics, but it means even more to me because I’ve never allowed myself to be this vulnerable in terms of my singing. At least not in many, many years.
So here, hope y’all enjoy it and won’t hate on it too much.
Because at a time when I need clarity, definition, and something REAL, he speaks in riddles and lyrics.
I had coffee with a very dear friend of mine today. And it was a good familiar feeling that I’ve missed for quite a while now. We had coffee, well, I did. And we talked, we laughed, we listened.
There was one strange moment though. I got this flashback of this guy, someone I used to date. Let’s call him…brad. Brad because it sounds like a typical jerk’s name. :| no offense to all Brads out there.
I got this flashback of Brad, where I went to this bar with another good friend of mine, and we were about to get drinks, and as I was getting out of my friend’s car, Brad called. I don’t know what it was about that moment, but it was a nice feeling. Hearing my phone ring, and seeing his name flashing on the screen—there’s just something about that moment that I feel good about, and miss. Just THAT one moment.
Strange that it should pop out today.
That first moment I met you was strangely memorable. It wasn’t romantic, but oh the effect you had on me.
You sat next to me, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at your or even in your direction. I was nervous, I was conscious, I was shy and fumbling.
A couple of minutes later, we were hanging out and waiting for the others to arrive, and our friend had asked you if “a beautiful girl” like me made you uncomfortable…at which you were taken aback and bashfully said yes. Late dinner finally followed, you sat diagonally across me and I could just feel the connection. I felt it everytime you looked at me, the way it just felt like I’d known you for years. And you teased me like we’d known each other for years. It was endearing. Your humor had me. Sparks flew. The night came to an end, regrettably, we said goodbye. And that goodbye hug was a welcome surprise.
I’d thought about you a few times after that, and a month later, we saw each other again. “Inexplicable” is all I can say to describe how it felt to see you again, to lock eyes with you. I was shy again, nervous, fumbling…awkward. And I ran back into the kitchen to keep myself busy and to shake off the nervousness and awkwardness.
I can’t describe how the night went. All I know is that we locked eyes several times despite the dozen other people around. You even checked on me from a distance in the kitchen, every couple of minutes.
We sat at different tables, but you soon came to join us at our table, and said the other table was boring you. And there you were again, right across me. I swear your eyes are like magnets.
Another fun night came to an end, but until now all I can think of is you. I don’t love you. I couldn’t possibly. After all, what do I really know about you? But how do you explain this feeling? How do you explain the connection, the sparks, and the locking eyes? How do you explain why I can’t stop thinking about you and why it aches just imagining never seeing you again.
Ugh. I hate to be this emotional and this cheesy. And I will most probably delete this entry later on. But I just had to get this out of my system, at least so I can get some work done.
I woke up like I do any other day. Everything normal, it seemed. Until a light knock, a twist of the door knob, and instantly another goodbye rocked my world.
I sat stunned, trying to process the news, before my mind even knew it, could understand and grasp it, my eyes were tearing, and my heart aching.
Like any old day I walked to the breakfast table, and once we all sat together, that’s when the whole of me broke down. I don’t want to and can’t possibly put to words who you were to me and what you meant to us all. I don’t want to have to explain why this is all painful.
And in this moment of sadness, I find myself running back to my room, searching for that last engraved bracelet-locket you gave me. The last piece I have of you.
Another day, another goodbye. I have never been good with goodbyes. And I don’t think I’ll ever be.
So what do you do when you know it’s the right decision, but nobody really wants to hear of it, help you think it through, and support you?
It’s this HUGE decision I have to make. I’ve wanted it for so long, and I dream of it quite often. It’s something I know in my heart I have to do for me. Not anyone else. Just me. What I need at this point is someone I can talk to about it. Someone to help me sort through the mess my head is in, and help me by being someone I can bounce my ideas off of. There are certain things I haven’t figured out yet, and details I need to iron out. So far, everyone I can think of talking to is against my leaving for one reason or another.
It’s touching, really. And I appreciate the feeling of being wanted around, the feeling of being missed or the preview of it. But at this point, I really would appreciate someone I can bounce these thoughts off, someone I can talk to about it just to get some things off my chest, and someone who will support me and remind me that this is right despite the overwhelming challenges I’ll be sure to face.
In one of the ending scenes of one of my favorite movies, Crazy Stupid Love, Cal says:
“…I will never stop trying. Because when you find the one…you never give up.”
I haven’t found the one, although I know in my heart that when I do, this quote will very much be applicable. Undoubtedly. I can only pray, that he will feel the same way too. I pray for a real man, who will never give up on me no matter what the challenges and difficulties may be.
Here’s to hoping and praying. Here’s to all my fellow single ladies out there who refuse to settle for anything, anyone less than they deserve. ;)
All Souls’ Day—a day dedicated to commemorating our beloved dead, a day to remember them, and lift up prayers for them.
All Souls’ Day isn’t much different from me than most other days. I always remember you, Lolo. On good days, on bad days, on everything-in-between days. I miss you. Every day. Sometimes it still hurts or stings when I remember losing you, and how you aren’t around anymore to hold us all together in harmony. You and your ala-Pavarotti voice could easily brighten up any of our days. You were the glue that held us all together. Sometimes, somehow, you still are. The memory of you and how things were when you were around somehow still helps keep us in check. “How would Lolo handle this?”
Every time Christmas season nears, I remember you even more, and feel a little bittersweet about the holidays. For obvious reasons, it’s a happy season, but it also does represent a time when we used to have you. And, seeing that it’s the 4th of November already, a little over a month to go before Christmas arrives, these emotions are heightened.
Enough with all this missing you rants. I’ll say it again, I miss you. I know you’re happy and at peace wherever you are. I hope that whenever I sing, and whenever I sit on the piano stool and play music, I’m thinking of you, and I dedicate my songs to you.
I really ought to be writing more. I’d like to believe I’m not utterly awful at it. After all, I do come from a pretty long line of writers…and musicians (and English teachers).
I haven’t been writing much lately. And it’s not for a lack of things to write about, it’s more because there’s too much going on, too much to write about, it would take forever. One of the characters from one of my all-time favorite tv series said: “…that’s what writers do. In times of trouble, in times of confusion, in times of grief, we put pen to paper and try to make sense of it all.” I think that’s what I should be doing. In the next days, weeks, months to come, that’s what I’ll do. Write more. Here, or in journals and pieces of scratch papers, on the back of receipts I find in my bag, on napkins from coffee shops. Anywhere. Everywhere.
Yes, that much, I know.
For one—even though I don’t know who it is yet.
For many things, new things, old things.
For better, for the best.
Sometimes these desires, I cannot quiet.
You’re more than enough on your own. You’re more than enough, period. You’re perfectly capable on your own, you get things done, you don’t NEED anybody, you’re independent. At the end of the day though…sometimes it would be nice to have one person, that one person who just gets you. The one you call yours, and who calls you his. That one person who just sees you for who you are, and all that you aren’t…and still loves you. At your best and at your worst.
Sigh. Someday. Although, I do have one person that comes to mind. I think he’s one person who I’ve shown myself to, one person who I know knows my crazy side and my good side. I think if he did end up falling for me and saying those three words to me, I would believe it and I would most probably be able to rest in that. Cos I know he’s seen me at my best and worst. Well, my worst. He hasn’t seen the best of me. haha not yet at least.
those were among the first words you ever spoke to me. as i was doodling lyrics in my notebook in class like i always do, you were sitting in the chair next to me, and said “i miss your purple hair, i miss the way you taste.” what odd words to say to a girl you barely knew. i looked up at you, with a puzzled expression. “it’s a line from a song. put that there”, you said, motioning towards my nearly-full paper of doodled lyrics.
that thought, that moment is still pretty vivid in my mind. you are a vivid memory. sometimes, the mere thought of you still causes a stirring in my heart, and i can’t help but smile. after all these years, the thought of you brings me to a happy place, and i can’t help but smile. i remember you fondly, darling. we never were anything, and it wasn’t exactly love. but we were something. and it was wonderful.
oh, the things you taught me, the words you spoke to me. sometimes i wonder if we will ever have a place in each other’s future. well, even we don’t, you’ll always still be a happy place. a happy thought. thank you. <3