What was I expecting when I sent you that message? You hate that word, don’t you? Or you didn’t like it when I started to. Expect, that is. Well, when I sent you that message, I didn’t expect anything to come out of it. It was supposed to make me feel better—whether you replied or not. But it didn’t. And it didn’t make any difference when you called to say that you were already asleep when I sent the message. It felt like talking to somebody so far away from me. Almost like I was talking to a stranger.
You always said my happiness is what’s important. If I was happy, then you’d be happy, too. Well, I’ve realized that my happiness won’t happen like this. And if you really wanted me to be happy, you’d know that this isn’t how to make me happy. I’m really just tired of being told that I don’t know what I want and that I’m not ready. I’m done pretending to be happy in this situation, because really, I’m not. And you know what, if you’re a friend like you say you are, you wouldn’t put me under this kind of stress.
I don’t understand anymore. Maybe these days I’m just trying to convince myself that I do. When you talk to me, I freeze up and never know what to say. Because in all honesty, I just want to stay quiet and sit beside you. No need for words, because I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to understand why it has to be—or not be, for that matter. I’m tired of this stupid tugging at my heart that I’ve been ignoring because I’m scared of losing this “friendship.” But what can I do? You’re the “always friend” and nothing more.
It’s one thing to be honest, but there’s something else called being tactless. I’m all for telling the truth but with caution. Have you ever considered the feelings of the person you’re opening the floodgates to? What if this person would rather not know? Have you thought of that? Or maybe you’re too busy rejoicing because for once, it’s a point for you. In your head, what you really want to tell me is, “I told you so.” And after all has been said, you have the nerve to ask me how I feel. How would you feel? I’m upset.
I don’t think I can ever live alone. It’s either I live with
my parents for the rest of my life—or until I get married, maybe. Another
option would probably be to move in with my aunt and cousin—both are still single.
I didn’t have to go to work today, and I’ve been sitting in an empty house the
whole day. Except for the quick chats with my dad, it’s been pretty quiet. I’ve
already gone through a bag of chips, which of course I had to dip in a big jar
of Nutella. Me alone? Not good.
It doesn’t take much to make me happy. Small stuff like hot chocolate in the morning, hearing my dad greet me good morning, receiving a sweet message from long, lost friends—and not just the usual text forwards. But of course, there are also the not so small things—getting mentioned in passing by the super boss in her monthly company newsletter, getting informed about being published in a national newspaper, getting considered to be a judge in the Philippine Webbies. Just a few wonderful things that have happened the past few weeks that give me reason enough to smile.
I have a habit of changing my Y!M status to song lyrics—particularly ones that I have on repeat. Some people react strangely to some of the lyrics I’ve posted. They think something is going on whenever I use lyrics from a certain song. But more often than not, it doesn’t really mean anything. Maybe I just really like the song.
These days, it’s been this cute song from Hellogoodbye. My favorite lines go,
“They may say some awful things
But there's no point in listening
Your words are the only words
That I believe in afterwards”
—Baby, It’s Fact
I have no problem with being friends. I love being friends with you—these days you’ve been one of the people I’m closest to. I love being around you, even if we’re just talking, and laughing about the simplest things. I like talking about how it used to be when we used to be together every single day, because there are certain things I didn’t know then that you tell me now. I hate it when we have to say goodbye, but I’m happy knowing that we’ll get together again. But what if I don’t want to be “just friends?”
The problem with me is that I easily get attached — to things, to places, to people. I used to think I could be dependent — be my own person. But I’ve realized in the past couple of months that I’m such a needy person. I constantly need to be paid attention to, and if I’m not given the time of the day, I really feel bad. But because I’ve always been the type to keep things like these to myself, I don’t complain. I don’t ask for the attention. So in the end, I feel really, really awful. Well, that’s life.
When I discover a song I really like, I play it over and over again until I’ve memorized the first notes and the lyrics down to the last word. I play it until I’m tired of it – which sometimes doesn’t happen. And when I find a new song, I start playing it, too, until it takes the place of the older favorite.
It’s the same way I am with food. I can eat fried crabsticks in pan de sal and not get tired of it even after two weeks.
Everything else in my life? I like them to be constant.
