Sometimes I don’t know why I get randomly insecure. It’s like a switch that turns itself on whenever it likes. I feel terrible over nothing and I punish myself for making such mistake. I know what’s going to happen but still I open the pandora’s box just to see if I could take the pain.

It hurts to read about the emotions of the person you love for someone he used to like. Somehow, I don’t feel as special. Learning that they did what you did, he held her high up on a pedestal…it makes you question if he had undergone the same feelings during your turn.

My rational mind says I should stop self-sabotaging…but my irrational self thrives into misery and lingers on this pain. I hate this retroactive jealousy stuff. I thought only guys whom I dated suffer from this…I didn’t know I am a narcissist. Until now my mind denies that I wanted to be treated special.

I hope I know how I can stop this. I asked for forgiveness but I don’t know how long I will keep punishing me.

I wish I did not know. I wish I never knew. Ignorance is bliss.


I know you once said to me

“This is exactly how it should feel when it’s meant to be”

Time is only wasting so why wait for eventually?

If we gon’ do something ’bout it

We should do it right now

If only emotions could talk, then there would be no need for words. Maybe I could have hurt a lot more people. Or maybe not, because all their fears would be answered when they learn about what I have felt for them.

But that is just my crazy world.

I have been burned by love a lot of times. By now, I should have been numb by all the pain I have endured in time. But as stubborn as I can be, I bounce back and try again. Masochist? Maybe. Or maybe not.

But that is just my crazy notion that love will spare me this time.

I once told my friend, I want that lover who won’t be scared of loving me. He will be proud and not be ashamed of proclaiming his love, no matter how silly his friends think he is. Egotistic of me? Maybe. Or maybe I just deserve that kind of love.

But that is just my ideal love.

We would jump off that cliff together. Our fears, inhibitions, our doubts out of the window. It won’t be as scary as freefalling alone. Foolish? Maybe. Or maybe risking is worth it when you both know what you have been fighting for.

But that is only if we both lay down all our cards first.

Knowing myself though, I would let him win right there and then. There is no need for any mindfucking. I would like to be fucked, but no, please do not screw my head. I have played too many games that I should have not bothered betting on in the first place.

I am ready to take another chance. I want to try where this is going and I do not want to let the moment pass by not knowing what I might miss. I cannot imagine anymore unthinkable thing I would not do, because you definitely make things feel easier. I won’t lie, I am still scared. But just knowing you would take that leap of faith with me, makes it easier to believe that we will be able to work this out. If you ask me, I’m ready.


How ironic life could get. We work to live, we live to work. We watch our lives unfold in front of our eyes with the picture of our ideal future stuck in our heads, and yet it does not feel enough. There is this void waiting to be filled. Some people sit and wait while others spend half of their lives searching for that emptiness-filler. The future is nothing but a daydream waiting to happen. The past is a huge blur for someone who would want to forget it. The present is the point of no return, like a stream of water reaching a river bend. So you lay down to sleep and think if you have let time gone into oblivion. Insomnia comes along and tells you to keep him company. The next day, you do the same thing. Eat, take a bath, go to work, go home…if you get lucky, get laid and drink a few bottles of beer. Life is a vicious cycle. People are retarded zombies. We are stuck in a job that we don’t want. We worship money and work hard. We are caught in a helical trapeze and bet our lives in a Russian roulette. When we reach the crossroads, only then we would realize we have spent too much time trying to live our ideal lives. I say close your eyes…choose the road where your heart leads you and not the road that you think is ideal. (more…)


As we all know, girls are the cheesiest creatures on earth. We dream of our prince charming in his chariot. Our knight in shining armor that will save us from our distress. We long for that one true love which makes our heart skip a beat for a second. Our farts do not smell and it is of in pink color. We are obsessed with love, marriage and kids; the idea of binding yourself with another person for the rest of your life.

Yes, yes…I do not speak for all women. And certainly, my views are not limited as to that of an atheist. Actually, a believer may find that we may have similar views about life, love and marriage in general. But the only difference is, if I fail with my dreams and my desires, I cannot blame nobody. I just chalk it up to experience and utter, “Well, shit happens.”

So what really is commitment and why do most people fear it? For the religious maybe, this vow is not limited to a promise between a partner, but also a promise to a higher power. For better or worse, ’til death do you part. I must say that the atheist in me agrees to it. For me, marriage is more than just a contract. It might not be a promise in front of a deity, but more of a vow between two people who is in love. Sure, you could say that marriage is something that we should leave for the believers only…but I believe that marriage is more of a promise between two individuals who want to share their worlds together; a promise that is made not just between each other but a promise that they are willing to be known all over the world not because they have to. It is a promise that is made because they are willing to embrace their life together; for better or worse, ’til death do they part.

As simple as it may seem, most people still fear commitment. Most people long for their one true love, but fear it when it’s right before their eyes. I guess that there are a lot of broken people out there.

A friend asked me before, why do I wanna get married, I am an atheist anyway. Most people assume that we all do not want a commitment. FYI, marriage has always been a societal obligation before it had been associated with religion. Well okay, you can say I do not need to be legally tied to profess my love with somebody. But then if there is no reason to be scared, then what is exactly stopping you to commit? After all, I believe that my declaration of love is more responsible. I take time taking into consideration binding myself forever with somebody, because for me, commitment is a choice; it is not dictated by fate. My love’s fate is not based on every roll of a dice. I do not just jump into a relationship because I find pleasure in it. Love and commitment for me are a combination of choice and devotion. If people see commitment as a contract between two people, then I can say that love is doomed. “Marriage” in itself maybe just means a contract. But for me, commitment and marriage is a vow that is made in front of the society; something that you are not shameful to admit to the whole world. Commitment is about love; about sharing your life together. It is a promise full of hope, between two people who wants to share their one true love for each other. For better or worse, ’til death do they part.

I may say that I am obsessed with commitment, but I will not die without it. Though, it must feel good to experience that kind of obsession once in a while.

Yes, yes…I must be old-fashioned; a hopeless romantic. When you think of it, love seems to be overrated. However, I think this is something that never goes out of fashion. Love may be cheesy and reality may be farfetched. But I know, most people in the world including the ones scared of it, longs for that one true love. Admit it or not, it does make your world go round.


Rain.memories.nostalgia.

That sweet melodramatic feeling. A sigh. A fallen piece of eyelash on your cheek. That quiet romantic piano piece that keeps playing on the background of a dramatic movie.

Nostalgia.memories.rain.

A hot cocoa treat while chilling on your couch. A lazy Sunday morning on your bed. That familiar beat which keeps you going and brings you death.

Small drops to pouring rain. They make up my saddest and most romantic memories here in Japan. Such beautiful irony which stings and stirs the depth of my emotions. All of them drown as every raindrop hits the ground as if they are in sync to the rhythm of each drop. There is something about rain which makes me feel nostalgic. I could be anywhere in the world right now where it could be also raining. But there is, there is this feeling I just cannot simplify into words. It is one of those things you cannot describe.

Nostalgia.

Spring time, five years ago in Minato Mirai. I met this guy who touched my life briefly. He told me not to fall in love with him. So I did, being the naive girl that I was. It was those times that I have so much hope for everything. I was still a cocoon waiting for her wings. Nothing really romantic transpired between us but it feels like one of those movies that has a vague ending and leaves the audience hanging, uttering a sigh.

Memories.

Three years later, I heard those three words. His hazel eyes staring back at me waiting for my answer. He took it back the next day, we were at Wendy’s. Now Wendy’s has shutdown all over Japan but the memories remain. I went home, sent him a text and asked if he watched Lost in Translation. He said he did.

I love you.

I was too afraid to say it but I did. I asked him if he feels lonely. He told me he did not know that he cares until I mentioned that I might have to go somewhere else. He was listening to Stay when it dawned on him he had feelings for this Asian girl. The little girl who keeps showing herself around on weekends to watch movies with him.

I love you, his message read.

After that rainy morning, we made a lot of our rainy moments together. There was once I have gotten so drunk and feeling so sick. I asked him to buy me coffee while I was hugging the toilet seat. I passed out and as far as I can remember, he bought me tall cup of coffee. Two years later, I never knew that the same man who could make such sweet gesture could also break my heart.

I was down on my knees and begging him to let me stay the night. It was raining and winter cold. I walked into his apartment with my things at the door, along with the pink dress which I bought for the Christmas party he invited me to go.

I cried. I screamed. I plead.

I could have gone home or stayed in a hotel. But I was stupid. I begged for him to love me back. I was lying on the couch when he invited me to sleep on the bed. He hugged me tight, so tight that it felt like he was not going to ever let me go. I remained on the bed the next morning and he went to work. It was still raining. He came back expecting that I wrote him a love letter waiting by the door.

You must love me a lot, huh?

Everything was now about him, about my love for him. Though he tells me those three words every other minute, I cannot bring myself to believe it anymore. The rain washed away my trust, my genuine love that once felt so reckless yet full of hope.

Rain.

It was a rainy night in Minato Mirai. I met this other guy who touched my heart briefly, that Surfer Dude. He told me he wanted a piece of me to build him up. I almost did, being the stupid girl that I was. It was that time when I lost so much hope for everything. I was a butterfly mending her wing. Almost something romantic transpired between us but it feels like one of those movies that you hate watching because it is so cynical yet real.

He calls me on the phone asking me if we could start off again as friends. I imagine his hazel eyes staring back at me and waiting for an answer. I was too afraid to say I do not want to. He called me insecure.

He shouted. I shouted. He retreated.

I could have said yes or rejected him flat out. But I was no stupid. I do not beg anymore to get love back. I was sitting on my bed when he was raging on the other end. He lashed out on me so bad, so bad that it felt like it was me on my knees again, before my raging ex-boyfriend. He remained on the line, got quiet. It was still raining. I talked back, telling him to find somebody else who could be the woman that he wants.

End. Click.

I was alone in my room again in the cold rain.

Memories. I hope they remain only as memories.


And I wake up with you lying down by my side. Your arm wrapped around me and your breath keeping my face warm in that cold morning. I woke up in this unfamiliar room with me lying down on an unfamiliar bed. My head aches from the alcohol we consumed that night. Yes, I have a hangover and I was drunk. Somehow I could care less about the familiar pain that gnaws the insides of my head because the familiar feeling I get from my stomach was overwhelming it.

I found myself staring at your face. This is the closest we had ever gotten since last night. When our lips touched; your thin lips touched mine. That same warm breath that traveled down my neck, consumed by my mouth with the alcohol we drank last night. I was looking at your long eyelashes when you opened your eyes — greenish hazel eyes. I knew you were feigning sleep because I felt you were staring at me while I was sleeping. I think I murmured something gibberish and you asked if I was okay.

I am okay. I heard my mind say.

I am okay because for once, I felt safe in your arms. I am okay because I think I am going to fall in love again.

And.so.I.thought.

I wake up and you were no longer by my side. You said you were going to get me a glass of water. I found myself in this unfamiliar bed, my eyes wandering around the unfamiliar room. I saw your closet with your stash of clothes of green and blue. Amidst the disorganized room I spotted a big frame resting near the sidetable.

Yes, I still have a hangover and I am aware that I was drunk. My eyes have not fooled me.

Without even looking at it, I could tell. It was you and her, greeted me by the door. I was wondering if you were okay, if you felt okay when you were holding me in your arms; if you feel safe knowing that she was once around this very familiar room.


I was fine, until I read your fucking book! It stirred shit up, you know? It reminded me how genuinely romantic I was, how I had so much hope in things, and now it’s like, I don’t believe in anything that relates to love. I don’t feel things for people anymore. In a way, I put all my romanticism into that one night, and I was never able to feel all this again. Like, somehow this night took things away from me and I expressed them to you, and you took them with you! It made me feel cold, like if love wasn’t for me!…you know what? Reality and love are almost contradictory for me. It’s funny. Every single of my ex’s, they’re now married! Men go out with me, we break up, and then they get married! And later they call me to thank me for teaching them what love is, and, and that I taught them to care and respect women! …you know, I want to kill them!! Why didn’t they ask me to marry them? I would have said “No”, but at least they could have asked!! But it’s my fault, I know it’s my fault, because I never felt it was the right man. Never! But what does it mean the right man? The love of your life? The concept is absurd; the idea that we can only be complete with another person is evil!! Right??!! …you know, I guess I’ve been heartbroken too many times. And then I recovered. So now, you know, from the start I make no effort because I know it’s not going to work out, I know it’s not going to work out.

~Celine (Before Sunset)
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