Hungry but Still Waiting

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When you've got to go, you got to go

When you’ve got to go, you got to go (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It’s 11:30 in the morning as I am sitting here on a bench in our hangout place. I feel extremely hungry as I write this (so much for missing out on breakfast). “Why don’t you just eat already?” you might ask. Nope, not just yet. Remember how you asked me last night if we could have lunch the next day in which I enthusiastically gave out a “yes?”

I can’t eat yet even if my stomach is boisterously growling even louder than the electric fan. I can’t eat yet even if I cannot focus on what I am supposed to be doing now. I can’t eat yet even if I really want to. I cannot eat yet even if I already could because I’m waiting for you. Holding on to your stupid words. Trusting your words that you would come for me even if you didn’t make anything finite–not letting me know about the details of when, where, and what time exactly this lunch will be. But here I am still waiting… for you.

It’s already 12:10 in the afternoon and you’re still nowhere in sight. Will you just let me die of starvation while having me wait on you to come around?

P.S. I could’ve died waiting for you but you didn’t even give me any sign of concern of whatever. That says a lot. Thanks. Bye.

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If giving up was ever an option

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I guess I just grew tired of everything. Got tired of waiting for my phone to light up and hope that a new text message will suddenly appear. And when finally the phone decides to do so, hope that it is from you. When a message is from you, I get the slightest glint of hope that you’re gonna initiate the talk that we’re supposed to have weeks ago. And when you finally bring it up and/or set a schedule for it, all of my hopes get skyrocket-high just to find out that you’ve decided to chicken out on me (as you always do) and forget all about it. As if nothing happened. As if there were no us.

I’m probably tired of thinking about us when I’m just holding on to its slightest possibility. Any moment I could slip out just like that and you seem to not bother about it at all. How stupid of me to hold on to something I am not sure if that is actually still there.

Maybe, my friends have been right all along…

You have been doing the things that you want (or need) without the consideration of me. A person who truly loves and cares for someone wouldn’t do such a thing but you can do so easily. Doesn’t that say a lot already?

Maybe, it’s true that I should stop having flings with people and just enjoy being single so that I could wait until I meet that guy who sees that his life mission is to make me happy, without me thinking the same way. That I don’t need someone who’s asking me to understand him like it was my business to sacrifice that much (given the fact that we’re not officially together in a relationship)…and that I could do better.

I guess it’s just now that I actually started to listen to what my mind has been telling me for months now. That we are not supposed to be together and maybe, I should might as well let go of this. Whatever with him has a vague future, anyway. But maybe, I just couldn’t believe myself that I could leave him at this moment in time where everything seems to be falling apart for him. I don’t know. If giving up was ever an option, maybe I have done so long ago. But I don’t think it is because…

Probably the reason why I couldn’t let go of him. And have settled an agreement with self that I should stay friends with him no matter what the outcome of this thing will be. And maybe, a little conciliatory gesture, just because I can’t leave him like this.

Who appreciates mixed signals?

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I still haven’t settled to myself if which is better: if people tell it to you flat-out that things are not gonna work out the way you want them to or if people actually take time to evaluate things and still try to make things work even if they have a hunch that they won’t.

Currently, my heart is aching not knowing your plan(s) that have to do with us. I can’t even have a good guess on it. Your mixed signals make it hard to do so. One day, we were lying next to each other and caressing each other’s head; followed by having a long phone call the night after and agreeing to have the talk first thing the next Monday; and having a full weekend of like not knowing each other, not even bothering to care if the other is still alive; and spending the first day of the week just by having a random and casual talk over lunch and forgetting everything about that scheduled talk. And now you get upset with me for making a joke out of us not being able to talk earlier. Wow. Just wow. Don’t you even realize how pissed I am that you didn’t even bother to remember that we were supposed to have the talk (which you, by the way, initiated) today? Made me feel that it was not that important, anyway, and that it could be left for another time or even worse could be just swept under the rug? I just wonder why you always chicken out on me.

I don’t really get you. I don’t know what you’d like to happen. I am so confused that I want to let it all out by bawling my eyes out and having a good cry. Please enlighten me soon because clearly, I do not appreciate your mixed signals.

English: US - 3 arm signals

English: US – 3 arm signals (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Her Point of View

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Never Felt Like This Before

Never Felt Like This Before (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

07 June 2012. It was the first time that he and she would see each other after more than a month. She was very anxious the night before; she didn’t know what he was (also, is) feeling.

He sent her a text message asking if she wanted to have lunch with him later. She was unsure thinking that her schedule was then a mess and did not know what to do about it; thus, the girl said that she would see and would have lunch with him if the time and situation allowed. The guy said that he was also stuck with the same problem. Actually, having a worse one.

Few hours passed. He asked her what she was doing; she said that she was taking a break from the stress brought about by the school registration. He asked her again to have lunch with him; she finally said yes. He told her that he was just staying at their organization’s hangout place; she said that she would go there in a while. She didn’t know what she was expecting; she was very nervous. As she was fixing her things to finally go to him, the rain started to pour really hard. He asked her if she had an umbrella with her; she said yes. She felt a little giddy inside thinking that he still cared (or cares) for her. Then she had a silly thought in her head that what if she said that she wasn’t able to bring any, would he have come to her and fetched her?

Anyway, next thing she knew she was there in the corridor near the hangout place. She took a very deep breath upon seeing the light emanating from the room where she was supposed to meet him. She slowly opened the door; he exhibited his shocked face–like his heart jumped out of his chest upon seeing her. She walked towards him and took the seat across his. They shared small talks. And they finally left the room for lunch.

Being a slow eater, the girl finished way after the guy did. They were still having small talks over lunch. She was amazed for it had been a long time since they talked nonstop about anything and everything.  And what made that day extraordinary was that he opened up to her something that he hadn’t told anyone yet. She felt that he trusted her and wanted (and needed, she hopes) to hear what she had to say about his issues. They talked some more. About shallow things. About life. About everything. But not about them.

They went to another building to check out the progress of things. When the status of what he was waiting for didn’t change, they went somewhere to again just talk. Even if people (who she wouldn’t normally let them) saw them being together and actually talking nonstop. After talking about more things, he invited her to go to their apartment. She was hesitant at first because it would be awkward if he wouldn’t drop her to a familiar place but then she finally agreed.

Commuted. Walked. Then they were there at his apartment. Greeted their common friends, had a little chit-chat, and she woke up the people who were sleeping in this certain room. Then, she took a seat at the corner of the room; he seated next to her. He lied down; she did too. He handed her a pillow and took one for himself also. (Not using their bedroom voices,) They were talking endlessly again even if the other two were two people who still hadn’t risen up. They were laughing about the silliest of things and woke the others who eventually left the room for him and her.

They stayed there for few more hours. Just lying on their backs next to each other. He played with her watch and was holding it most of the time. She thought that he wasn’t really after the watch but probably after holding her hand which he, by the way, didn’t do. She was waiting for it to happen but it didn’t. Having had just two hours of sleep earlier, she tried to take a nap but couldn’t because they were still talking. She wanted to take that opportunity because that rarely happened. It was shocking that he was sharing his sentiments with her–sentiments that he wouldn’t probably tell anyone. He opened up to her; she had a deeper understanding of him and his situation. If she did love him already, she knew that at that very moment, she loved him even more.

He was telling her to take a nap but she refused. Then he started to run his fingers through her hair. She loves that feeling. Makes her doze off easily. She told him to stop because of that reason but he still continued to do so. Maybe, he wanted to sleep next to her again. Just sleeping together.

Her hand was placed near his face. She felt as if he was kissing her hand. Two smacks, she felt. Just not sure if that was it. But she knew. Or probably, she wanted to think that. She waited for him to go physical on her. Maybe just a simple gesture of holding hands or sharing of this warm hug. Wanted those. Waited for those. But those never came.

But even if they didn’t hold hands or hugged that day/night, she was still very glad because she felt that she is being trusted by him. She was his confidante at that moment. She wished that moment actually lasted. She wished that they could stay that way forever. And she wants to remember every single detail of what happened on the 7th of June 2012 because that was the day he opened up to her and finally told her things and trusted her. The day she felt she is important in his life. The day that she felt happy with him again. The day she wanted to rewind over and over again.

She thanked him for everything that day; he was happy she was thankful.

We’ll get better, eh?

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Cartoon about a fortune teller contacting the ...

Cartoon about a fortune teller contacting the other side. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

After telling you how one-word replies keep me on thinking that you aren’t interested in talking to me, you still keep on doing it. Even if days have passed without us talking, when we finally do it’s like you don’t even wanna talk to me. I don’t get you, really. I do not see the point of your sending me those messages when they all just imply your being uninterested. It’s not like you miss me or anything–that doesn’t even show. It’s not like you want me to be kept updated with your life. Like you don’t actually want anything to do with me.

How they say that this thing is supposed to last for just a week or so. Ours has been going on for more than a month already. It makes me feel like you don’t even give importance to this thing. I see no effort… at all. How you’re able to do things with other people but never with me.

How my friends are being hurt for me at this moment when I’m giving my all and there you are as if there’s nothing to bother. How they keep on telling me that I can do so much better than this.

I am just so tired of you not showing effort. It hurts so bad to see only myself making such a big deal out of everything and there you are just sitting there and doing nothing. I am so fucking tired. Oh well, maybe it’s my fault that I gave you too much hope in this thing–hope that I’ll never give up even if everything gets so fucking hard. Having that assurance makes you so lucky and leaves me here like an idiot. FYI how you’re treating me now is how I do with this someone whom I wanna get rid of. So? Is this what you’re letting me know? Are you giving me subtle hints that this thing will never work? Well, sorry for being so dense but can’t you just tell it to me flat-out? Please don’t be a coward this time. Having me wait on you is such a more terrible thing than telling it to my face (and not to mention crushing my fragile heart into tiny pieces) that I’m just waiting in vain. Please do so immediately so that I can go get a move on already and attend to more important things, or at least things that bear fruit when worked on.

I just wish you didn’t promise me anything about us getting better so that I wouldn’t be out here laying everything out for you because I’m still fucking holding on to your words that we will get better.

Don’t keep me guessing, please. Thanks.

Change.

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K. Changed the blog title again and everything. I don’t know but somehow felt the need for a fresh start in this whole blogging thing. Just wanted an outlet for the unsaid things or for how things should have been said. Just wanting to do things for myself this time and stopping with this, “Dearest future hubby” thing. Or whatever. I don’t know. Just back to the point of this blogging thing. Also, letting this site to be seen in the search engines. So if you happen to visit this blog site and know me in person at the same time… well, rats aren’t welcome. Whatever you see here stays here. Thank you.

I just hope that I don’t change blog title anytime soon, that is.

Of (mis)understandings.

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Dearest future hubby,

 

I just hope that when the dreadful time comes that we are not in good terms, we talk about everything. Please tell me everything that’s going around in your head so that I get to understand you and get to have an idea what you’re thinking. To get to know your side and have your message come across correctly. As much as I would also tell you all of the things that are bothering me.

Good communication–we need it!

 

Love,

Future Wifey

You gave me an idea.

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Dearest Future Hubby,

I got inspired by my previous entry and had a eureka moment earlier. What if my blog had an actual theme? What if I wrote my blog as if everything in it is for the eyes of my future husband–for your eyes? Every post will be started off with a “Dearest Future Hubby,” and will be ended by “Love, Your Future Wifey” as if I were really writing everything to you. Writing to you my innermost thoughts, rants, random realizations, or whatnot. And oh, I will also change the URL of this WordPress account into http://www.dearestfuturehubby.wordpress.com

And whatever posted before the previous post, I won’t delete them. Those posts, though not addressed to you, are still stuff that I want to let you know in the future. I would like for you to get to know me well (even before you’ve met me) through the entries here.

Happy reading!

 

Love,

Your Future Wifey

Dear Future Hubby,

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Right now, I am not having enough encouragement to push through with this journey on finding my way to you. Though I don’t really know if I have already met you or not, it doesn’t even matter anymore. I just feel so tired and hopeless. It feels like my being nonconformist is taking me to a higher level–when everyone else is having a booming lovelife, here I am left with this shit. When all of the people around me are starting to find the special people in their lives, here I am being left hanging by the person whom I like. When all of the couples who used to be not officially together (that I know of) all of a sudden become in a relationship, here we are “giving each other some time to think.” Here I am left with this pain and left with nothing good. I don’t even know why I’m telling you all these because I do not have the certainty that you are him. Yes, you might be him. But if you aren’t, please don’t get jealous that I am getting depressed and all this shitty because of him and over this. I just want to relate to you whatever I’m feeling right now by letting you know the current situation of my hopeless adventure into finally meeting you.

I’ve been dying to meet you but the pain in my heart and the sadness that I’m feeling right now are just becoming too much to handle that they make me want to rest for a while and stop walking towards you. Not like forever, you silly. But just for a while until I make myself ready for the shit again. I’m sorry if this seems like I’m giving up on you or whatever but I’m really not. I’m just letting my heart and mind have a rest from everything. When I’m ready, I’ll be on the go again. I promise.

It’s just that sometimes, I ask myself if the dark days are really worth having just to find my way to you. I know it is. But maybe, just not now. Maybe, I am just tired of experiencing the short good times in exchange of the dreadful days when everything is over. I am just so frustrated that a lot has happened already–a lot of guys I’ve been with and whom I thought who were actually you at one point or another and a bountiful of emotions invested on these different people. These experiences and these people make me feel so discouraged that meeting you is such a dream that is not going to actuate into reality. Your entity. There’s something inside of me that wants to know if you even exist which makes me even more frustrated knowing that I (well, we both) do not have the means of doing so.

Faith.

Hey, I know that you are definitely worth the wait. And I know you exist and are terribly perfect for me (as I am for you). But can you just please come sooner and ease the pain already?

 

P.S. I love you so much. Like forever.