"Life has ups and downs. When things keep going down, do a flip and turn it
around."
Every time
I am going through an emotional rollercoaster, I write, at the risk of putting
myself out there, the risk of unveiling myself for all the world to see, at the
risk of getting hurt even more. Although, I give myself time to buffer all the turmoil in my
head, and my heart - enough time to let go off all the intense emotions, but
still plenty of time for them to linger on and do some damages.
I've
started to pull out my "In case of Emergency" playlist again - really
didn't think I would have to do this so soon. I've been listening to music,
looking through old text messages, chat conversations and emails, and broke
down in between for a moment or two.
I have
always thought that I am quite good at being emotionally detached to things, places and people; or thought that I've beaten
myself enough to learn the lesson by now. The fact is, I am independent because
I have to. I protect myself because I have to. Growing up having to live
through the loneliest moments and hardest situations by myself. while having to
put on the strong front for others, I have become how I am now. I learned by
harsh reality that I had no one to rely on. Every time I let my guard down and
try to give the softer side a chance to come out, nothing good came out of it.
However, I admit that I do get attached and become more emotional than
I want to. So the moment I feel like my life has fallen into a pattern and
starts to become too stable, I switch it up, change things around, go to new
places, cut tied strings and move on. All of that so I get into a habit of
"getting bored easily", and keep myself under control.
Yet, once
in a while, I've done it again.
I'd gone
in it, as I usually go into theses things with guys, looking at them as nothing
more than bystanders, as temporary witnesses to my life, and for about a few months
it worked. Until I started to actually feel. And once I realized this, I felt
like running as I always do when these things come about. I felt like running
for the hills, for somewhere far away, for my freedom. Yet, with the fear of
heartbreak still settling in my stomach, and the feeling of being emotionally
scarred nostalgically rising in my throat...I went for it.
I wasn't
in love. Let me make that clear.
I'm unsure
why I even I let him in, maybe it was to be brave, to finally take a chance
with something (or someone), thinking the conventional "you never know unless you
try" way. Or maybe I thought I deserved to be happy for once. Or maybe I wasn't even thinking at all, just feeling it. I took a
chance, and yet here I am, listening to depressing music and writing depressing
entries. How many of these things I had, and will write year after year, I wonder.
Let me
make it clear again, I was not "in
love" even if it seems like it. I simply liked the guy, and the way I felt when I was with him.
I've been
through worse, I know, but this one really hurts. I think what hurts the most,
is not that it's over, or that he still hasn't shown a single sign that he
wants me back (or probably he never will). It hurts because I took a risk, gave
myself too much credits, took on too much of a challenge, and got beat. Beat down
pretty bad. And I know I will get over this one, as I have in the past, but for
now I'm thinking of those who say "Take risks! if you win, you will be happy; if you lose, you will be
wise". Well I've lost, and I'm not
feeling very wise, just hurt and a little bit hopeless. Because as much as I
read quotes that cheer me on claiming "At least you tried!" I'd
rather have not tried at all, I'd rather have stood on the sidelines safely and
not have gotten hurt.
But it's
too late for that now.
Actually,
I take that back. Those months were the happiest months I have been for a very
long time, and I would not want to change a thing. But now, I just feel drained and
exhausted, and wonder if I would ever be able to do something like this again.
I am pretty much back to my old self but still, I feel like a part of myself
has gone. It was too much for me. I realize that I started losing control, and
I couldn't be the calm and collected person I have always been. And I'm just
simply scared that I would be one of those girls. I just can't be one of those
girls, ever. Because it's not me, and if I can't be the one he liked me for, I
should no longer be with him.
The
biggest part of me wants him out of my mind, out of my heart, out of my bones,
and I even get angry at myself for thinking of him, remembering him.
Missing
him.
I'm not
sure there is a point to this entry. I am not writing to ask him to come back
to me, nor am I writing to tell him that I am finally moving on. I am simply
writing because I still like him. I still like him and I hate myself for it
everyday. And that I miss him.
Been
missing him since the moment I said it was over between us.
Did I give up on us too early?
Perhaps, after all, my feelings weren't strong enough. Or I wasn't strong enough to keep going, to keep us going.
