I have come to realize that no matter how much you love your company and the people in it, you will still grow tired and yearn for your first love.

I have also come to realize my fear of being stuck with what I have now and not being able to marry my passion. I fear making decisions that I will regret forever.

So earlier I made a lockscreen photo:

Pardon the expletive, that is just to emphasize the intensity of my desire for what I really wanted to do.

Writing, Music, and the so-called "financially unstable path" I'll get back to you. And we will prove them wrong.

I am starting to forget bits and pieces of you and I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing.

The other day I was talking to my cousin about you and I was surprised that there are some anecdotes about you and me that I can't remember in detail anymore. I forgot how old are your sisters, and the reason why I remember you when I hear Aaron Carter's "I'm All About You".

Maybe I am finally starting to forget you and I didn't know it would be like this. I didn't know that no matter how hard I try to guard these memories, they will still be taken away from me. I am still not ready to let go of the things I knew and loved about you. I don't think I'll ever be ready to let go of the way you touched my hair, or the way you smiled at me, or the way you made me laugh.

This is one of the most painful things that I have come to realize so far--that there will come a time that I will forget the sound of your voice, and heaven knows that that is one of my greatest fears. Right now I just know that it's a bit low pitched, and I can still play it on my mind but it sounds like a cassette player running out of battery. Does it sound a bit like Benedict Cumberbatch's? It is a bit low-pitched but it's not that low... Or is it?

I hope I can write an optimistic ending but with each passing day my memories of you are slowly being replaced by the things I pretend to make me completely happy, when in truth I am tired of being alone. I miss you so much that it hurts so bad. I miss you so much and I feel so stupid because no matter how hard I tried to say it, the message never seems to get to you. People close to me see that my heart is steady, but only two of them* know that I still hurt so bad that I can't sleep properly. Right now I am torn between what I feel and all the shit you did to me. I am afraid to forget the things that made me love you, but I am also afraid of being treated like crap again. I don't know what is more painful: enduring the way you make me feel stupid every time I try to tell you how I feel about you, or forgetting the sound of your voice along with all the reasons why I loved this very person that treats me as trash right now.

I am not sure if you will get to read this, but I hope you do. John Kevin Charles Pastor, I really hope you could remind me of the sound of your voice again.

*those two being my Lola A and cousin Racquel

Why I hated 30 Seconds to Mars

I  put the 30 seconds to Mars discography on shuffle and came across a beautiful song titled Alibi. It's my favorite Mars song, in fact, i love it so much that I thought to myself "This probably sounds good on vinyl"... so I ordered a picture vinyl of the This is War album from their website. (It is the most expensive spontaneous thought I've ever had so far). But I was right. I am currently listening to it now and thanking the heavens for conveniently making Alibi the first song on side D.

I just landed myself into the Echelon, which is the organized fandom of 30 seconds to Mars. So organized that they have a name! (I was thinking of the name for Kasabian fans, and I remembered there's none haha) Seriously, this fandom feels like a mafia. More appropriately, a cult.

But before that landing into the Echelon was a struggle. I first encountered 30 Seconds to Mars in a discussion with my friend Kevin, when he entered it as a query in whatthefuckshouldilistentonow.com. They had a concert here in 2011 but I can't be arsed. I remember saying to my cousin, "I can't seem to find respect for [30 Seconds to Mars]." Here are my reasons why I didn't like this band for a long time:

1. "30 Seconds to Mars is an emo band." Also lots of screaming which is too loud for my liking. Apparently I haven't listened to Alibi back then.

2. "Jared Leto is an actor. And what, he's trying to sing?!" I never knew it's possible for an actor to be an extremely f-ing good singer and songwriter. Hey, don't blame me, I'm from the Philippines.

3. "The frontman and the drummer are brothers. You can't have brothers in a band, that's Oasis." We all know that Oasis wins any given day.

4. "They look like they're trying too hard." Remember the time when Jared had a mohawk and dyed his hair in a funny sort of way?

But those days are over, people. I think I'll treasure this fandom more now that I have realized that the band is so damn good, because I really tried. In fact I think they are now officially in my definitive top 10 list of greatest bands ever (even if they're American hahaha). You know what made me listen to Mars? Watching Fight Club. Yup, it's weird I know, but Jared is one hot space monkey.

PS. In other news Blogger is being an evil little psycho villain for not letting me set my default font and resize photos. I HATE IT

Strange Days

The last thing I remember is being controlled by my friends to my room and falling face down on my bed.

------

It was your birthday the day before. I sent you a greeting via text but I thought you were too ungrateful to say thank you. Or maybe you just didn't receive it, after all I'm living in the blind spot of cellular networks. I sent you a message on Facebook instead, you said thanks, gave me your new mobile number, and told me about your new job. All is cool.

------

My high school friends planned a get together. I offered our place so I can do whatever the fuck I want without having to worry how to go home. We ate, we drank, and got extremely fucking merry. It was as if tomorrow we will die.

-----

That girl probably didn't even know when your birthday was--she just greeted you because she saw in her timeline that you were thanking people who greeted you. Then you said you want her to go to your heart? Fuck that lame pickup line. I am a fan of Sherlock and I find this situation rather amusing and annoying. I have arrived at the conclusion that you publicly display these shit to hurt me. And that is never cool.

It's crazy that you act strange around people the way I act strange around you. But I guess you're batshit crazier for doing that to hurt people.

------

The moment I saw a box full of booze, I instantly knew that this is gonna be a long night.

------

I didn't even care what I was drinking. All i know is that everything seems nice when you've been alone and sad for a long time. Spending a night with my friends is a break from talking to myself. I see the words in the sky that I want to say to you but I am already too numb to.

I think I already had way too much but I don't care.

------

I was talking about you and how you hurt me, and the ways that I probably hurt you too without me being aware of it. I guess we will always be like that. You will always be the person that hurt me the most, the one who will continue to hurt me, the one who was *this* close to being the one. And in many ways, maybe I am that person in your life too.

------

One of my friends excused himself for a while to make a phone call. Apparently he and his girlfriend were celebrating their second anniversary. It was all cutesy words and music and stuff that we overheard. I used to want to do those things but now they repel me.

------

Now I am listening to The Doors, writing this blog, and believing that I am completely sobered up. For the past two days I didn't have to worry about my insomnia because El Hombre took care of that. I just had to nurse a massive hangover the next day. In those hours my head was too painful to care about you.

Now I kinda understand why sad people drown their souls in alcohol.

------

I woke up with my gay friend on my bed the next morning. I think I missed out on a lot. I slept the entire day. My head is throbbing like fuck.

I puked and flushed my dental retainer on the toilet. Damn.

I took a sick leave yesterday to take care of my heart. Or maybe just some time on my own is what I really need.

When I went back to the office everyone was asking me how I am feeling. They were asking me if I am okay. Some are even delighted to see me! Isn't that awesome.

I guess life really is beautiful if you know where to look.

I am KC's Tiny Heart

Today I am having my first sick leave ever.

I wasn't really very sick. I've been having an upset stomach and minor headache since yesterday and I am afraid to eat anything because I am too lazy/tired to barf it out afterwards. I don't know what caused this, it's been a long time since my stomach has been a hyper acidic piece of organ randomly floating in my body, but that's kind of how it feels like today.

For me this is more than just a sick leave. This is a manifestation of something more going on inside my head. Maybe the emotional turmoil is just too much to take that I am starting to become physically ill. Once again you have affected me in a way that's beyond the threshold of my tiny little soul.

Your photos are up again on Facebook. Congratulations on your face. Congratulations to your parents for having such a pretty son. Congratulations for still having the same effect that you did to me three years ago. And congratulations that another chinky-eyed girl noticed that angel face of yours.

Forgive me because I loved you even if I am not chinky-eyed. Forgive me if I want to kiss that face of yours and at the same time destroy it, Fight Club style.

I am KC's misplaced jealousy.

I actually think that your photos are meant to put me on an emotional tsunami and it actually did. I just filed a sick leave just to take care of my heart. You win. Those photos are everything that I want to forget. Your piano, a jacket (probably smells as good as it did before), and a car that looks like it was about to fly (with the help of jetpacks of course) and break into the second floor of a building for a high-end car show. Those photos are so... You.

I am KC's unwanted memories. I am KC's lack of will to forget you.

I am KC's rational self and I am telling KC to move on. There's no need to wait for an answer or any form of communication from you because it will never happen. Nothing shouts closure more than your lack of desire to communicate even though she told you she loves you twice (even thrice if you read her well enough). But KC won't listen because it's her nature to hold on to something familiar for as long as she can, and right now there is nothing more familiar to her than her thoughts of you.

I am KC's desire for a closure.
I am KC's complete sense of disappointment.

I am KC's crushed heart. I am KC's doubt in the power of love and everything she used to believe in. I am KC's mind that you have transformed from a starry-eyed hopeless romantic into a monster who shut herself down from the very ideas she used to write across her heart.

I am KC's love slowly turning into hate. I am KC's fear of love slowly turning into hate.

I am Glad I Asked That Question

I am glad I asked that question.

Yesterday my church had a Love, Courtship, and Dating seminar. During the time that I was a staunch believer of love a destiny, I don't miss events like this. Yesterday, however was different. I had thoughts of not attending because 1) I'd rather sleep and then watch Pawn Stars and 2) I thought I knew everything I need to know about love. They'd just tell you the usual: don't rush into things, if your heart is broken there's someone better, yadda yadda.

I only attended because my favorite pastor is the speaker (well not really my favorite "Pastor", if you know what I mean haha). It was a fresh revelation to me, and a lot different than those LCD talks I attended before. He presented the realities of love and the responsibilities of life and presented them in a light way. There was a Q&A at the end, and it was also a good thing that I was forced (kinda) by my leader to ask a question.

"What if a Servant of God falls in love with someone who has a different faith?"

I thought I already knew the answer to this one: "don't." And then goes on to quote 2 Corinthians 6:14--"do not be yoked with unbelievers".

But he gave a fresh perspective on this: the reason why St Paul said this was because there are unbelievers even inside the ministry during that time. "Believing" is not about what you tag yourself as--it's about your relationship with God. One may say that he is a "believer" or a "Christian", but does not look and act like it.

Being born-again is not about what church you are attending, it's about accepting The Lord Jesus Christ as your Savior. That's the basic premise of being a believer. The pastor added, and I quote: "I have Catholic friends, but they are Born-Again Catholics."

What he said lifted a burden off my chest. Thank God for pastors that understand. :-)

"Kumusta love life?"

Whenever I am having a conversation with a friend, family, or an acquaintance that is cheeky enough to ask, this is my most dreaded question. This question has come a long way from being the one i am always hoping someone would ask to being a question that I hope would never be brought up. It has been two and a half years.

Now that i have realized it, i never had a decent answer to this question. For the first part of those two years, i had been giggling like a schoolgirl whenever i am asked. I think of a conversation we had recently, what i think of as your lame pick-up line, and how i prevented my stomach from exploding with butterflies. Then it came to the phase when that event happened but we're still okay. Then the phase when you're in law school making it the perfect excuse why we never talk anymore--"ah, he's in law school so he's kinda swamped right now" then referring to a "recent" conversation that happened two months ago.

And now this phase. When it's time for that question I hear a shrill sound inside my head, like a boxing match has been declared as over and it's time to leave. "Kumusta love life?" Unbearable silence. Crickets.

Recently my ex-boss asked this. He knows about you. i told him I've been in emotional limbo for the past two years, so he said that i should talk to you and ask you out and it doesn't matter who makes the first move--it's better than waiting forever and getting nothing. I should make sense of this pointless waiting. Either your heart is broken or you'll be happy. Simple. Rather than breaking your heart every day because you don't know the answer.

I just hesitated to say: Believe me. I've been trying to know the answer for what seemed to be like forever.

Lots of people ask me this hastily, but there are also those people that ask out of genuine concern. Lola A would ask: "Kumusta na sya?" and with the silence that I give she already knows the answer. She knows that you made me happy so she'll say she's praying for us. Ninin, meanwhile is entirely different. She'd ask for details and ask me what I'd do next. I'd tell her i don't know. She'd then hug me virtually and say I know how you feel. She's the only person I trust enough to believe what she said is true. My ex-roomie Erin is another.

Yesterday Ninin and I had this conversation again. She asked: "sya pa rin?" And I said, "Never namang nagkaron ng iba eh." Half of me pities my self for not having moved on while the love lives of the entire world's populace have gone through a lot. The other half commends my self for being strong and showing that I don't give a flying f*ck despite the fact that I still cry whenever I write things like this.

I don't know what this question is made for. It's just fishing for information on someone's private life. For me it's torture in the form of words. It's a question I avoid like the plague.

But deep inside and in all honesty, God knows how much I also want to have a proper answer for this question. An answer which i am also sure of.

Maybe my exposure to optimistic pop music caused me to be like this. The Beatles told me that all I need is love. Jason Mraz's I Won't Give Up is my lifelong anthem. Westlife told me that love can build a bridge between your heart and mine. What I didn't know is that telling someone that you love them can also bust that bridge up.

A Writer Once Loved

I recently came across a short free verse poem on Tumblr about someone who once dated a writer. Being a writer, or at least that's what I proclaim myself to be, I felt the need to write a response.

And because I am a lonely soul, I have added my sad twist to the story. After all, the poem said "I once dated a writer."

I decided to take on a male's voice because it seems more fitting to me that way.

This writer once loved

but it didn’t work out.

I forgot our anniversary

and she got mad at me.

i do not remember the date,

But i remember the way

she smiled that day

As she instantly held captive

Of my soul.

I forgot to take the trash,

that contains the olives

that she took out from her pizza;

And starch her uniforms

That still smell faintly

Of her favourite perfume.

I may forget to do the laundry

But never the way

She looked in her chiffon dress...

That dances freely

As she lingers in my memory...

Fleeting.

Wanting to be forgotten.

Writers are indeed forgetful.

But we remember the little things

and it's heartbreaking

because rarely

do we get appreciated

for this gift.

Real-Life Unfriending

How do you delete someone from your life?

She was the first friend you had in college. You had nicknames for each other, enrolled the same subjects, had the same schedule, and always had lunch together. She knew your deepest desires and a lot of things you haven't told other people. She knew the things that irk you, your fears, your scheduled day of fasting. You knew her route going home depending on the weather, her abnormal shoe size, and what she had for dinner the night before. You even considered her as your best friend. She was your sister.

How do you select the memories and throw them into the recycle bin?

That moment when she introduced you to the person that will ultimately change your life. You were swept, and he had you at a salute and a slight raise of an eyebrow. You let that whirlwind that caught your heart go with the shrug of your shoulders and a knowing pout on the face. She likes him and this feeling is a violation of the unwritten girl code.

How do you uninstall the feelings that became part of your operating system?

That slight but cheery annoyance when he calls your attention for nothing and the rush of blood to the cheeks as he smiles triumphantly when you glare back at him. His confidence as he walks across the room that always leaves you mesmerized. The uneasy yet satisfied feeling that it seemed he sees no one else but you. The inward smirk brought about by his lame pick-up lines, after which your shoes felt like they grew wings that let you soar happily with the clouds. That feeling when the pick-up lines that make you barf with disgust suddenly works on you. The scent of his jacket and the electricity as his skin brushes against yours, the longing feeling that makes you willing to give anything just to be able to feel them again. The sound of his voice, the look on his face, and the juxtaposition of his body to yours that Oasis’ Wonderwall will always remind you of.

How do you get rid of the virus that destroyed a friendship?

The look on her face that accuses betrayal as he intently chose you to be the one to do him a favor. Jealousy so thick you can cut it with a knife. The tension that fills the air when the three of you were at the same place at a particular moment and the awkward guilt that you know you shouldn’t feel, because the only thing you did was to fall in love with someone who shows the same to you. That guilty feeling you still felt, held, nursed—hoping it will go away, because movies tell us that friends are more important than the person you love… even when you knew it was the one you have waited for. That single truth that you forgot: real friends will let you have both.

How do you Restart relationships?

How do I tell him that I have loved him all along, even when in silence, even during the time that she explicitly told me that it will crush her if he and I end up together? How do I tell her that I miss the old friendship we shared, when there were no competition on who is he sending an IM to first? How do I tell him that I still have the doodles that we drew when we were trying to prove each other that lefties are good artists? How do I tell her that drawing me away from him only made me love him more? How do I tell him that I wrote letters to him every single day because I miss him so much? How do I tell her that I have already made my choice and it was him? How do I tell him the fact that I have already liked every aspect of his soul and that I want to instill my tag location on his heart for always?

How do we shut the world down together and reboot our operating systems—no programs installed, no error messages, no viruses, and no expired licenses for fake software, just the start button and the recycle bin to throw the bad memories away?

Originally written March 2012. Amidst the chaos in me.