Once more it’s a Dead-End

I feel like my life’s going downhill at every turn; and I just wish I could make everything alright again. I’d never admit this out loud but I am lonely– not in the sense that I am looking for any romantic relationship like every hopeless damsel in distress but just lonely that I’ve cut off my relationships with people and ended up with somebody ugly. I can’t find meaning, my innings are empty. I’ve been misplaced.

Nothing in my life’s particularly beautiful anymore, including myself, and every single day I am facing the darkness, waiting for the grace to be free of this; to be free of me and all I’ll never be.

I’ll never be is what haunts me. A lifetime is awfully long when the word never is at its head.

Death

I am thinking about death. And all the little things you would’ve done different if you knew. I am thinking about how unpredictable it is; like death could come knocking at your door any second and you wouldn’t know. You’d skip out on saying goodbye to your mother because you’re late for school, ignore your little sister when she asks to play with you because you’d rather watch television or read or do something else than little kid stuff, tell your brother to go away when he barges through the door because you’d rather be alone. I’m thinking of all the moments I would’ve changed if I knew I’d die tomorrow. I would reach out to my dad for one, and ask him to come home, just so we can have a family dinner once more. I would call all my best friends and all the ones I wished were my friends, tell them how much I admired them and inspired them, all the things I was too afraid to speak out, let them know that without them I wouldn’t know who I’d be. I would lay under the nightsky on spiky itchy field grass and look up at the stars, watching them twinkle, letting my thoughts and emotions rise like the world has stopped moving, like I didn’t have better things to do like homeworks and projects, and feel so small. I would reach out more, to a particular boy, tell him I like him and kiss him under the rain, wanting my chance at love. I wonder about death; the unfathomable kind. The one that enters and takes away, leaving nothing but gripping coldness and ache at the now empty space left. The universe gives and takes and I am afraid I won’t be able to do the things I’ve always dreamed my life I’d be doing: doing the things I love every single day, never held down by insubstantial matters. I don’t want to worry about accounting or theology, about school papers or losing weight or the fact that I don’t know where my future is headed. I wonder about death, and it taking away those who barely had a chance to live, or have lived but not in full. I wonder how it chooses, in random or in kind, a fate that comes to play as punishment or maybe gratification, an end to the suffering at its tail. I wonder about all the people I’ll forget to say I love you to, all the people I’d never tell goodbye, all the secrets that would be buried with me when it’s my time to croak, and all the life that slipped away under my fluttering fingers, a one-winged butterfly crashing, crashing down to the blackout. I think about death– the sad kind of not being able to live enough, and I wonder if I’ll be lucky enough to be taken away first before anybody else gets taken away before me. After all, the only thing that’s worse than leaving is being left behind to face the wake.

You’re like a firecracker. You look plain on the outside, but your insides are ready to burst into flames, so much magic and wonder if only you’d ignite.

I think about falling in love. With a boy so beautiful and mysterious I’d get the shivers trying to uncover him, wondering him at nightfall unable to sleep, thinking about all that runs through his mind. I want to memorize his favorite song from his favorite band, know if he’s closer to his mother or his father, if he likes school or thinks it’s a complete waste of time, what he thinks of God and going to mass, if he’s the kind of guy who texts or calls, if he snores when he sleeps– all he is when he thinks nobody’s watching. I want to know his favorite game and soccer team (I will deny he’s a basketball lover), his dream car and the kind of girl he always imagined being with, his dreams for this life and others.

I wonder about the boy I’m going to end up falling in love with. If he wonders how I look, the treasures hidden deep behind my protective soul, the prayers I sometimes forget to whisper before I go to bed, my first thoughts in the morning when my eyes awake from slumber, the books I enjoy reading and the movies I enjoy crying to just because it makes me feel human. I wonder if he thinks about me, about all I am and all I could be in the future; about all the kind of love we are going to make, and if he knows that we’re going to create a love unlike a time bomb but everlasting, so beautiful and sweet and deep it’ll move with you forever.

I wonder about love between a beautiful boy and a hidden girl, whether it’ll come true and last long enough for an entire novel to be written, strong enough for songs to be sung and music to be played, and fought enough so it’ll last till death does them part. I wonder about the kind of love that springs so powerful, the words meant of a single promise, a single vow with the winds and the Heavens as witness, the birds and the leaves singing in chorus: “No matter what happens, I will take care of you. No matter what happens, I will be here for you. No matter what you do, I’m not leaving. Even if you grow fat and unbearable to look at, I will stay. Grow white hairs and huge pimples and become the ugliest girl in the world, I will hold your hand for the whole world to see that you are mine. Be a pain in the ass most times and thrash out on me during your monthly hormonal days, I will hang on tight until the morning. I love you in spite of the things you do and not because for our love is inconsequential. Our love is real.” I hope to make myself worth it for this boy and this kind of love. Please come, please come. 

Ignite your bones

The Skyway Lights

I swam today like I said I would. In that pool, nothing could reach me. All that was on my mind was swim or die, swim or die, because when you’re under, all you’ve got is to fight for your life. Otherwise you drown. And there was light at the end, a square that marked it, and all I had to tell myself was “just reach for that little dark square. come on, you see it. you’re almost there. resist yourself and reach.” I realized life contains a lot of self-resistance and self-restrictions. If you want to get somewhere, you can’t give in to yourself all the time because your natural instinct is to satisfy what you think you need. You have to learn how to say no to your own self if you want to transcend.

I can’t stop listening to Fix You by Coldplay. It’s such a beautiful and heartbreaking song; the lyrics and the music at the bridge so wrenching I need to hear it over and over again. It makes me feel human, so graceful, so weightless I could spread my arms out wide like a ballerina and fly off the ground.

That’s all I want to be: weightless. I don’t want to tread heavily anymore. I want to press lightly, like I barely leave a mark. As light as a spirit. As free as a bird. This body cannot hold me down.

On looking at the mirror and feeling like dying.

I wish I could be this skinny again. I hate it that when I look at the mirror I’m not happy with what I see, and it’s not that I don’t accept the way I am– I just don’t particularly accept the fact that I’ve gained weight. Every time dad sees me eat, he tells me I need to gym already which means that it’s even worse than I thought– people are starting to notice, especially my dad. I’ve been so stagnant and lazy, eating and eating and eating without moving to burn off that ew, I am so disgusting when I look at myself. I can’t believe I let myself get this far. It makes me want to go anorexic (see how lazy I am; I’d rather not eat than work out!). But the truth is I have and I can’t deny it anymore by not looking in the mirror and pretending I’m alright, that I’m still thin in my head because I’m NOT. I have to push and give effort on losing weight again and I am so afraid of the struggle that I haven’t even started yet, so afraid of not succeeding that I haven’t moved. Do you see what a coward I am? I know who I want to be but I’m still too afraid of change, not wanting to let go of what is familiar, not wanting to work even just a little bit to achieve. The worst thing that crosses my mind is actually participating in the act and coming up with ZERO results or worse –more weight gain. I just want to start shedding them off already. I want quick results so the sooner it’s off, the sooner everybody gets off my case and the sooner I can start living my life. I have to put this irrational fear out of my mind of not changing. Let me move, and let me change, and let me lose all this off. I have to begin somewhere. God, just please let it work. Please. I am going to try my best at exercise here but please, let my body and the universe cooperate with me too. I AM GOING TO LOSE WEIGHT. May the force be with me.

Sex is not equal to love

I made sure I left the house early today so I wouldn’t be late in Theology class anymore. It’s honestly starting to get really embarrassing as I feel ashamed that I am always the girl who comes in late. There’s a kind of calmness when you’re early– like there is no rush in anything you do and you can focus more on going with the flow instead of having your insides churn at each second that ticks by. I was listening to the gripping tunes of Coldplay on the way, so emotional and moving that I felt so alive and worthy, so beautiful a daughter of God. For Theology, the group reporting spoke of the issues on premarital sex and I came across a guy saying this: “if I put out now, then what else can I give specifically for my wife?” Every time we talk about sexuality in class, it’s clear that the guy engages in sex more for pleasure while for the woman she focuses more on emotions, attachment, and love. And there’s always the argument that “sure, I will have sex with a person, but only if I really love her.” But really, what is genuine love? I believe marriage is a proof of real love because you are bound to each other for life. There’s no backing out. Just the promise that I will always be here for you, no matter what. People say that sex is part of being human and this is true, but I do believe you can live without it, at least before marriage. I mean, look at me? Which is why I think it’s really strange when people argue about sex as a necessity in relationships. Sex is mostly physical. There are other intimacies to be explored within a human person, deeper than just the body. At the same time on the issue of love, if a guy has sex with you I honestly don’t believe he really loves you. Why? Because sex bears risk for the woman! In other words, there is the actual possibility of creating a new life, and other psychological and emotional aspects that arise on the way. If he really cared about you he wouldn’t want to put you on the risk of ‘ruining’ you. He would save you for when it’s real.

So now I am thinking of my cousin and his girl friend and their baby boy; how he and her aren’t even  on speaking terms and haven’t seen each other for months now, and feeling glad that I am still intact. I want a guy who deserves me as much as I deserve him. Who values my worth and saves me knowing that I am worth the wait. I want a boy who focuses on uncovering my soul first before my body. Because when it’s love, it’s pure. If he chooses to love, he’d wait. Even in waver, he holds on. To be wanted even in my imperfections. Because love involves time and investment and a long process of getting to know each other, forgiving each other and finally accepting, there is no hurry. Like my former friend used to say, “Kick it down a notch a little. There’s no need to worry or rush. We can take our time. Our love is here to stay.”