Tuesday, May 25, 2004

MAY 25, 2004 (TUESDAY)

One Last Cry

Yesterday, I wanted to be like Drew Barrymore in "50 First Dates." Now I feel like Barbra Streisand in "The Mirror Has Two Faces."

Had another cry this morning, hugging Simone the sheep for all it was worth and rocking back and forth on my bed. I wanted to ask the world why this happened, and what did I do wrong, and basically going through the whole motions of self-pity. And it didn't help that his mother texted me a feel-good quote this morning, just as I was drying my eyes.

Met up with Dell for lunch, and then was plesantly surprised by the appearance of OJ and Zena in the afternoon. Mikael gave me a hug - surprising for a person who avoids physical contact as one avoids the plague. Realized that I still have a life to get back to: an exam in STS tomorrow, and an article to write as well. I am always thankful for the presence of friends; my week is pretty full because of them. At least this means I won't be wallowing in self-pity at home, alone.

I realize that I am stronger than I thought I was.

For You, Yes You: (Or, What Can't Fit Inside SMS Boxes)

Allow me to exorcise my pain, and hurt, and bad feelings. Because intentions are always different from actions, and you needn't apologize for that - you did what you thought was the best thing to do given the circumstances. I will have to respect that. And I'm thankful that we're not disappearing from each others' lives totally. But perhaps in distance we gain perspective, and some things are better figured out alone.

But that doesn't mean I'm not hurt by what you did. On the contrary, everything in this world reminds me of you. I lost the man I love. More than once I wanted to run away. But then, there's that little voice inside my head that says, "Ano? Magpapatalo ka? Puh-leeze." And so I hold my ground and allow the pain to wash over me like a giant wave, and when I resurface with my tears drying on my cheeks, I realize that it's not all bad anymore. I mean, at least I'm not thinking of pulling out my cutter anymore, right?

Just don't pull away. I'm already making the effort, see? My palms are still clean - no cuts or wounds to make the blood flow. I still talk to you - albeit through SMS only; I made some promises that I have to keep. (Blame my mother.) But you also have to move. I need a sign from you that everything's okay on your end of the line and that we can move on to being friends - in the real sense of the word, not just as a euphemism for a non-violent break-up. Talk to me. Don't be afraid. I don't bite.

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