Because I have no one to talk to // Part 1

February 17, 2014

February 17, 2014 / 2:33 AM
Writing this down, while lying in the sofa with so much baggage in my heart & mind.

I've never had the energy to write about my feelings in a very long time. Apart from the fact that I really do not have the talent to write, I also do not have the courage to write about my life since I turned 23. I used to keep diaries/journals since I was 12 and kept writing till I was about 18. I still tried sharing my life/thoughts/feelings in multiply, xanga & tumblr till I was 23. On my 23rd year on earth, it stopped. Facebook boomed, and mostly it was just status rants due to (mostly) self-inflicted pain.

Looking back, I ask myself, what happened when I was 23? When I was 23, I lost the one person who actually loved the real me and treated me like a real princess. When I couldn't get him back, I started entrusting all my decisions to alcohol and my so-called friends, losing myself in the process. I started flirting around thinking that it would be the best way to get over the whole painful part of moving on. I actually got almost every guy I wanted at the palm of my hands (this is not being arrogant - it's just easier when you don't let emotions get in the way... emotions scares most of them), but none of them treated me like a princess. None of them took the time to actually get to know me. None of them touched my heart the way he-who-got-away did. I jumped from one "relationship" to another not realizing it was slowly destroying the real me. 

The real me is really shallow & old school. I just want someone who will ask me how my day was, someone who can last a whole day conversation with me, someone who randomly sends sweet messages, someone who blocks off his whole schedule to be with me, is proud to show me off to the world, gives me surprises of all things I love, camwhores with me, gives me flowers and chocolates, picks me up, and the list goes on. 

All that mattered during those (dark) times was --- I just needed to be with someone who showers me with compliments. It didn't have to be real or true. I just had that undeniably strong and constant urge to know that I am wanted or that I am like-able. I needed that to cover the pain and survive the fact that he-who-got-away was already dating and Me? Well, I started dating RhumCoke & Red Horse. Realizing this now, I think that this is after all, the shallow me. This is me without love for myself. This is me slowly drifting away from who I really am.

In those years, I have manage to lose all things important in my life: real friends, my family's trust, my reputation and myself. During those times, people around me have already judged me and branded me with a lot of negative titles which can be summarized in one word -- a bitch. I can't blame them. Maybe I allowed for that to happen. I just wish people realize that everything has a story.  It's already bad that they don't take time to listen to the story, even worse that they have so much time to talk behind your back.

Stories (mostly with edits) about me were formulated by assholes I dated and the friends of the assholes I dated.  Yes, I will call them assholes because every time I start getting all serious, they disappear and after they go MIA, they're friends have already managed to broadcast the whole thing. Skeletons in my closet piled up and I never had the courage to face them. It was just easier showing people a bitchy attitude than explaining to them that you are hurting and just want that feeling of being loved like you're the most fragile thing in the world again. I know that's freaking cliche, but what the hell, it is true. Others just won't admit it.

After a few more years, some illegal activity, graduation, quitting good jobs, losing "friends" along the way and losing my Mom to cancer... I slowly realized what a mess I've made of myself.  I literally had a hard time looking at myself in the mirror for sometime.  Not because I was ashamed of myself, but I knew that when I see what I have become, I'd have to shape up and I wasn't just quite ready for the whole cleaning my act thing.  It was just so easier being the bad guy. :(

Little did I know that all I needed was someone to push me.  In the process of realization and a few more relapses, I met a special someone who told me that he thinks "parang masarap mag-mahal si, Alex" This got me thinking that MAYBE, this is the right time to start again. This is the time to fall madly in love with someone who wants your love. This decision to love unconditionally (again) changed my life in ways you can't imagine (if you knew me during the part of my life which I would like to call "my autopilot days).

Opening my heart to this man, marked the end of my autopilot days. 

3:22am - I am out of words. Will try continuing this some other time. I can't believe it actually made me feel better. Wow.

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