Posted in Battlefield, self

My Naked Truths

My heart is breaking. And I’d better not tell it right now but I need to. Again, for my selfish reasons but writing is therapeutic for me. It really helps me.

My heart is breaking. For a friend. And I know he doesn’t need my concern right now. He doesn’t need my words or my comforts or my presence. But I still want to give them. It will be laid in here so hold yourself because this will be the very first time that I’d be talking about only you because my thoughts for today were all about you.

My heart is breaking. Because I can’t help. I wish I reached out as early as I noticed but the fact that I am not someone you needed hindered me. I never wanted to creep you out ever because I value whatever connection we have for each other. And sometimes, your coldness tells me to stop or go away or “not today” so I’ll play “Whatever, do what you want, I don’t even care”.

My heart is breaking. It’s a lie if I don’t care. I cared ever since before that accident that I even wrote my feelings in Filipino so you won’t feel awkward because you won’t understand it. But that’s all about you. I laid myself there, scared and terrified something might happen to you. Why did I do that? I don’t know. It’s a feeling that’s so familiar but naming and recognizing it will jeopardize the situation, so I kept all of these in me because I can’t let you go.

My heart is breaking, because of all the things happening to you. And because you saw things differently now it hurts so much to know. You are the person that I admire, through your ups and downs. You helped me sort myself. And I admire all your pasts, whether a good or a bad one. Because you are an amazing person. You deserve to be loved. And you taught me that without even realizing that you were teaching it. You are that person I told my friends about, because believe it or not, at some point in my life I fell in love with your words. 

Because you told the world that women aren’t transitional to you. That if you say you have feelings for her, thought about her, dream about her, need to have her body or to touch her and actually feel her… that you care for her… she is those words. Your words and your thoughts. You.

It lingers in me for a long time. How a person can love so deep that I fell in love with your words since then. But I know just at to what extent. And I’m already satisfied with the connection I have with you because if it’s all I can get? I won’t complain. It’s all gonna be worth it.

I never told you this, but if I could have a lover someday, I want it to be someone like you. Because I could never imagine someone could love a person more than you do. 

Please don’t think less of yourself because in someone else’s life, you are so much more. More than you can imagine.

And yes, my heart is still breaking. 

Posted in Battlefield, Broken, self

Lost


Would you chase me even if I walked out now? Would you still want me if I already gave up? 

This time, I’m not looking back. I’ve had enough of my own foolishness, stabbing myself with my own grief. I’m done with all of it. Again, I won’t look back.

I thought I can’t do it. With your hot-and-cold-games I’ve been playing since then, I finally raised my flag and planned my retreat. Enough is enough. There is no more piece left to be broken. 

It was your choice to walk away too. It was my choice to put an end to it. It was our mutual choices to stop it there. I said all the words I want to say before going. Your part remained silent until today in which I totally get, no words needed to know what you mean. I didn’t get a reaction because you were too eager to get your bag packed and leave… at least that’s what it seems to me. 

The first night was like hell. I literally cried myself to sleep and I hated every time I woke up in between because I fucking feel the pain I don’t feel when I’m passed out. It gave me the hard time but hey, I got enough of it. And days and nights after felt exactly like the first without improvement. 

But this day, it’s about time to let it go. It’s about time to stop all the games you played from the beginning. If there’s one important thing to point out here, it is to put my own value first before anybody else. I accepted the fact that you won’t chase after me. You will never ever pull me closer. You won’t stop me from ultimately looking away.

And for the last time, I am doing the same. This is the choice I’m most proud I chose. 

Posted in Battlefield

Messy Heart

Everyone will totally agree with this, A broken heart is the hardest to mend.

At least, that’s to me. 

An open wound caused by accidentally falling from your bike could be healed by any Povidone iodine solution and hydrogen peroxide, alcohol and band aids. If infection occurs, antibiotics are always available. If the wound is deeper, it could be remedied by closing the wounds using stitches or staplers and covering with bandages and tapes, worst is putting in a cast. After several days or weeks, things will get better and the least you would get is your scar. 

Ahh. Scars. Reminder of your pain.

But how about mending a broken heart? I guess no one knows. And it’s a sad story for everybody else. If you accidentally fall (in love) for someone, no amount of self-control will ever make you safe. It could only get better, or worse. No in between. For the lucky ones, they could totally forget about it and move on. But for the not so lucky? Just a messy heart.

I believe that’s what I’ve been getting. Because who would want an overwhelming emotion? Who would want to catch overflowing feelings like a waterfall? Full force at the bottom, even ready to power up a whole town. It’s scary, right? Who would want that. No one wants a messy heart.

And a messy heart is a broken heart. And that’s the worst part of all these.

Posted in Battlefield, Broken

Closure

That’s all I needed. Until I know what I needed, it won’t end. The pain. The healing. The closure. It wraps everything and put things in order. If I need to get over it, I have to hear its end. Because I could never really get going and move on if I won’t face the end. 

Closure. I never knew it was all I needed. Not until now. And it helps. A lot.

Posted in Battlefield, Broken

Wishful ThinkingΒ 

I wish for times that you aren’t dead yet. I’ve seen moments like these, the hard ones, that you’d be by my side being the shoulder to cry on. I also try to close my eyes and think of you. It must be creepy to think of a dead person be at your side at that moment. But for me, it’s a comfort to think that way. You never died in my mind and heart, so you always stay alive.

If it’s my greed to think this way, I will forever apologize. But sometimes, it’s tiring not to have you here. It’s tiring to fight a battle without your “partner”. Although that one might be a little hypocritical because you fought a gadamned fight without me literally by your side. I swear I always wish I was there, though you told me for multiples times you don’t want me there. If it’s my greed to wish you weren’t dead yet, I’m sorry. But…

That’s unfair, Matt! That’s unfair to consider how traumatic that would be for me when you never even gave me the chance to tell that by myself. I appreciate that you always wanted what’s the best for me, and you never want me to be hurt. But either way Buddy I will be hurt. I am not immunized to that. I just hoped you let me be the best friend that I am when you needed me most. Fortunately, that’s all in the past but it still fucking hurts. It still does Buddy and it’s hopeless.

You died overseas while battling with your cancer. And I was informed last, again. Imagine that for two fucking years that you were diagnosed, I was the last person to know. It was your choice and you told them it was for the best. I didn’t have the time and energy to get angry about that because what’s all in my mind was how to cope up with my best friend dying away from me. Total torture. 

Sometimes I wonder if it was me who finished the race first. If it was me who died first, would you also be this miserable? Would you also remember me in your quiet times? Would it also bother you during occasions that it’s incomplete without me? Would you also wish for me not to be dead yet? It fucking hurts, Matt. It fucking hurts that I haven’t still moved on. I’m stuck in here sorting out me. The void you left? That’s too much to fill in Buddy. 

It’s hard to trust people. It’s hard to tell who are the true friends and who are the fake ones. Because before I always got your back and I didn’t have to worry about having another friend. For me, you & our few friends’ companionship was already enough that I didn’t need to extend myself more. That was all true Buddy. You were enough.

But not until the day of your death. It was not enough. The time you had on earth, the moments we had, the dreams you’ve achieved.  The laughs and sorrows, the late night dramas. Those were not enough.

So if it’s my greed to want you not be dead yet, I’m okay to be called greedy. I wish to buy some time, even a minute. If that’s all I have just to see you and hug you and hear your voice again? That minute will be enough.

I miss you and I love you. May you rest in peace. See you in God’s perfect time. I miss you, Bud!

Posted in Battlefield, Broken, self

Cutting Off The Toxicity

No man is an island.

They said that. Overused. They told us that no one survives being alone. No one did. Oh, no one did? I don’t know. I haven’t even proved that either. For a fact, the thing I believe is that I don’t believe it too. 

Sure, we are the kind of species who love connection with other people. We are that kind in nature. Interactive, affectionate, associated. We think of others. We give them attention and take attention from them. We have to feel that. That need. It gives us the purpose, like gas to fire, like oxygen to air.

And knowing the boundaries and limits is something we know but we don’t pay attention to. We expect more. We get hurt for inappropriate reasons. We set a foot forward when it isn’t needed. We give more than what’s being asked. We are that kind of species. The dumb-passionate. The blind-masochist. In one point or another, our need for others becomes a poison slowly killing us.

The draining energies. The expectations. The silent wishes. The unspoken intentions. We all have that. And it happens so fast that we most of the time don’t realize it’s already happening. We let loose and inhale the toxicities. We let certainties drain us until we can no longer put ourself back and hold it together. Just like that.

I’ve been a mess. I still am. I have enough of the criticisms but I don’t see it wrong to find that connection. If it’s not working I have to stop. If it works then I stay in it and hold on like it’s for my dear life. No matter what. Even if it’s exhausting. It’s confusing. It is painful. It drains me to no end. It makes me awake at night and renders no rest in the morning. Despite all of these, that’s still what I want- the connection. I can shut all the blinds off, but the door will always be open. There is a hand waiting at the doorknob. I could’ve locked the door. I should have. 

But I am scared to be a lone island.