Author Archives: markie09

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About markie09

a music lover at heart, hopeless romantic, sports fan, frustrated DJ and photographer, workaholic-slash-homebody who spends most of his time pondering on when his time on the relationship ride will come; a quiet, yet equally loquacious individual who would rather be at the sidelines than hog the limelight, yet at times longs for his 15 minutes of fame; an imaginative and observant movie buff who most of the time watches movies or binge-watch TV series alone and considers professional wrestling as a real sport; a detail-oriented drummer wannabe who at times would change his mind at the last minute, yet determined and focused once his mind and heart is set on a goal; a taken-for-granted, dignity-trampled-on, emotionally-ignored individual who is easy to fall in love with, yet always being played a second fiddle by women whom he falls for; a Gemini in the true sense of the word who would think of the most obnoxious and dreadfully naughty things at one time, and preach of morality, righteousness and the good of mankind in another; a self-professed loner who takes on the world and the cruelties that go along with it, on the verge of giving up but for some unknown reason continues to press on and make people around him think better of who and what they think they are simply because he just damn cares.

A leap from faith

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Faith.

It’s probably the most used word in every dire situation any individual comes face to face with.

Along with the two other words, “hope” and “love,” they form probably the most rock-solid trio ever that transcends time and history.

And it’s probably been always associated by religious folk by “keeping” it, and how it can “move mountains.”

To me, faith was all of those. Keyword: “was.”

I recently realized that faith and expectations go hand-in-hand. Okay, maybe not recently; but it was a product of years of personal struggle, challenges, and failures that built up over time that when I look back at those, I slowly began to see the connection.

I was born and raised a Catholic by strictly Catholic parents. I was taught every facet of it and how to center my life around it. I was often told, “if you want something, pray for it.” And I would. Some of those I wanted to have would be given, and some would not. At best, I could recall a 60-40 split of what I wanted that was given compared to what wasn’t. That was during my formative years.

For those who have known me my whole life (or at least majority of the last 20 to 25 years), I’ve always been the “good guy.” Doesn’t get into trouble much, always tried to help out others, always tried to do what is or was right, and kept getting back up after a setback and being positive. A lot of credit of that goes to how I was raised. And to be honest, that’s a good foundation and I wouldn’t have preferred it any other way. Which is also why it made me realize how massively different what I think, know, believe, and see things today and moving forward compared to how I was during all those years.

The last five years–seven if I choose to go all the way back to 2013–have been what I prefer to call as the defining years of my adulthood. It was during those years that I experienced the most of everything. From the highest of highs, to the lowest of lows; with the latter more prevalent. Little did I know that every single thing that happened during that time was part of a slow build-up of the perspective and outlook in life I come to have now. For those of you who religiously follow my blog and what I post on social media, everything is there. But I digress: what’s the connection of all these with faith?

Well, there’s now not a whole lot of faith left in me, if not completely gone.

That’s the honest, most real self-realization I had that started as an after-thought about four years ago, and that was firmly cemented yesterday during my solo road trip. I still have that respect that faith is something other people can, will, and may have. But, it’s not that way personally for me. Not anymore. I choose to free myself from what I think is holding me down and rid myself of experiencing pain from being dependent on something; and look ahead to seeing and understanding that whatever I decide on any of the choices that are laid before me, things will still happen as they are meant to be. And the choices I make are either borne out of necessity, or with much thought. Having this new personal perspective actually feels good. Yet I’m not one to promote this because of my belief that everyone has a choice. And I don’t like shoving my thoughts down people’s throats. As they say, you do you, and I’ll do me.

Does this mean I’ll stop being the good guy? No, not at all. I still firmly believe in good and bad, but it all boils down to personal choice. I’m still going to have that positivity in me, but I’m going to keep that to myself and to only a select few, so don’t expect me to share quotes like I did back in the day in Facebook (that is, when I decide to eventually go back to being active there). When I looked back at the quotes I shared over the years (especially the ones about love and… other stuff), I actually cringed and felt really, utterly sorry and ashamed for myself. Yet I won’t delete them simply because it’s a reminder of how those times were for me, and how that lead to where and who am I now. And I will not refute or contradict people and friends who continue to share their quotes, inspirations, on social media. That’s their choice and I respect that. What I probably may do share are realistic sayings that don’t have anything to do with whatever religion or a school of thought that will make one “hope for a better tomorrow.” Because that’s just it. You hope and depend and expect for things to be better, but you’re actually the one who has to make that happen. Not leaving it to faith. You want something better? Then do something about it or live with the consequences if you choose not to. And the choices one makes are only good for the given situation. The effects of those doesn’t necessarily accumulate into something else. Different scenario, different choices, different outcomes.

Am I still a Catholic after this? Yes. Out of respect for the way I was raised and my parents who did, I will remain one until the day I die. And out of that same respect, I will continue to honor whatever tradition was instilled in me. In fact, in yesterday’s road trip, I lit and offered candles for my friends who are going through some tough times with their families or personal lives, and for the people I love. Yet I didn’t feel any upliftment for myself. All because I know that when I pray for others, it always works. For myself, nothing happens; not in the close to seven years I’ve dealt with different problems and challenges that I prayed for deliverance, but never came. I’ve learned to accept that, and promised myself that what I do will be made out of my own choices. No more relying and being tied down to a certain dependency that will never bear fruit. I’ll live with the consequences, or relish in something attained. Besides, He has bigger problems to worry about than granting what I want or need.

Who knows, maybe this leap from faith is what I really need.

reset and reboot

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And just like that, the 2010s have come and gone.

The decade has been a roller-coaster ride to say the least. And a little over 12 hours into 2020 and a fresh 10 years ahead, the phrase that keeps sticking out in my head about what I feel coming into this chapter in life is: “guarded optimism.” 

The past decade I would say, has redefined my outlook in life. While some things and traits remain the same for me (outspoken being one of them), the past 10 years had a tremendous impact and effect on me that it shook some of my beliefs and principles to the core that I literally had to step away from social media during the second half of the decade to re-evaluate everything. And as many of you know and have seen, I use–or have used–social media as a playground; especially for a Gemini person such as myself. And the ironic thing is, I stopped using Twitter about the same time as I started to post on Facebook more and more; and when I withdrew from Facebook in 2016, I started to see Twitter as a more simpler alternative and slowly started to use that again until my account is active again.

Cliche as it may sound, as 2019 slowly drew to a close, I thought of using the new year–and decade at that–to re-establish my online presence. I’m still going back and forth on returning to Facebook, but I thought, why not go back to where it all started for me: blogging? I know I have written several entries in years past about being an active blogger again (or at least write or talk about everyday stuff here) and not following through with it, but after going through what I experienced, maybe that can help in creating some new material. Additionally, my good and dear friend Liz and I have been having discussions for close to a year now about doing a podcast since we’ve had lots and lots of conversations about different topics that we thought, “why not share these conversations and what’s on our minds to the world? Who knows, other people might be going through the same things we are and our perspectives might be helpful to them.” But we will draw the line on being so-called “influencers.” For one, I don’t like that term, and I’m not the kind of person to tell people what to do with their lives. We can share what we have done or what we experienced, but in no certain way would we endorse, prod, coerce, or even suggest a course of action. People can use our experiences as guides, but we won’t be held accountable for their decisions. We’ll probably explain more of that when we finally get that podcast going. Hopefully.

Yeah, so it’s back to basics for now. Writing has been my outlet, and I would want to rediscover and reinvigorate that passion this year. And with a fresh past decade of experience in the vault, it should help fuel the fire, so to speak.

Reset.

Reboot.

Let’s do this. I’m back. Hopefully. Happy new year, everyone.

The girl who broke me (a.k.a. the greatest love I never got to have)

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I never thought I would be writing this. Some people would probably say I shouldn’t. More importantly, I never, ever thought I would reach this point. But I believe it’s necessary for me to get it out of my system to have a sense of “closure” (it’s probably the closest word I’d like to associate with it) so I can finally have that transition in spite of everything else I’ve been dealing with. So as early as now, let me say this: I don’t give a fuck what or how negatively you may think of this entry. This one will be far different from the usual stuff I’ve written, yet I am still covered by freedom of speech. Please carry that thought if you wish to proceed with reading this entry. If not, you can always close the tab or browser. With that being out of the way, let me begin.

If I were to look at myself from five years ago at the most up to probably two years at the latest, I wouldn’t recognize the person staring back at me. Back then, I was a cheesy, poem-writing, love-induced, wear-my-heart-on-my-sleeve hopeless romantic who would readily move heaven and earth just to do anything for the one girl who captured and enslaved my heart and soul. Yet despite being turned down, kicked to the curb, and repeatedly used only to be taken for granted time and again over the course of almost five years, I continued to pine and believe in what fate will bring… if I continued to fight the good fight, thinking positive and always hoping that the universe would eventually smile down on me for the efforts I’ve made. Only to reach this point.

I have written several entries about her on previous occasions; more than any other subject on my blog. But this will be–with finality and without the usual romantic cheesiness–the very last one. It’s unfortunate that a person’s repeated actions (and lack thereof at the same time) would slowly chip away at the emotional side of me. No matter how numerous kinds of conversations and arguments we’ve had about equal treatment (as “friends” according to her), nothing ever changed. And slowly, that wake-the-fuck-up realization started to manifest about who I really am to her: a go-to guy who she can just discard when my usefulness has worn out. I won’t bore you with all the details here (though you can always ask me in person and I’ll gladly tell ALL that went down), but as that moment started to grow, I decided to drastically lessen my communication with her. Not just the replies to messages, but the manner in which I replied back.

Elaborate or normal replies became one-word messages. Immediacy turned to four, five, sometimes 12 hours or more before I would send one back. “Seen-zoned” (on my part) sometimes became the norm in our chats (if you could still call it that). For sure she would’ve noticed it, but never brought it up. I suppose the final act that broke the camel’s back happened four weeks ago. But as I looked back at our chat history, the more I did that, I suppose the more it hardened me. Not just to her, but to everything else that is relationship-related at the same time. This is the girl who I yearned for and promised to love no matter what happens. This is the girl I gave everything to. And I do mean EVERYTHING. One close friend of mine can attest to that. Heck, not even having a five-month serious relationship with another woman stopped me from completely forgetting about her. And from the looks of it, because of the huge scar she left on me, I won’t be able to. Come to think of it, I suppose it’s better that way so it’ll be a constant reminder for me not to fall for anyone else again.

Romantic lines don’t elicit that warm feeling in me anymore. Love songs don’t sound the same way anymore whenever I listen to them (and I still do; I mean, a good ballad is always worth listening to). And romantic movies past, present, and future are not as inviting to watch anymore. I’ve even unfollowed users in Twitter and Instagram that post quotes (romantic or even inspirational ones) because it became useless feed on my timeline (I’m still on Facebook hiatus though, but will be back soon; when I feel and know that the time is right). You’re probably thinking that I should do those just to focus on myself and heal up until such time I can be ready to love again. And you’re right… only on the first half of that sentence. I’d rather just focus on myself and my closest of friends. No healing up, and definitely no need for cupid to come flying back in my general area (at this time I’d want to give everyone a gentle reminder: please refer to the third sentence of my opening paragraph). The last two of this five-year endeavor even had my belief in religion put into question. But that’s a different story for a different time.

A few weeks ago, I started watching “How I Met Your Mother” after the entire series became available on Netflix. For some reason, I never saw the series during its original run; and I have always been told good things about it. Now truth be told, if I had followed the series back then, I would definitely relate with Ted’s character. Oh man, hands down I would. I’d even be eagerly anticipating what comes next between him and Robin. But since I started with the very first episode, I actually saw Ted as a whining loser who oftentimes can’t get his shit together. Even with what he feels for Robin (I now actually have a crush on Cobie Smulders, but not her character). I would still see the series through until the very last episode; only because I am amazed by Barney’s character. I see him as the more realistic person among the group despite his shenanigans (Marshall and Lily to me are a conventional couple). What I’m really looking forward to are the two remaining slaps Marshall has to give him. Now that’s a glaring difference between me back then, and how I am right now which I never thought I’d be able to come to terms with.

Regardless of whether she personally reads this or not, though I am not that proud to say it, but thank you for breaking me. Thank you for finally silencing my emotional throes permanently. Thank you for removing the romantic in me. You have set the bar so high that no other woman can ever reach. Thank you for living the kind of life I help provide you for, and in the process, leaving me empty. Thank you for your words that added up to a staggering amount of… nothing. Thank you for all of your empty actions that gave birth to an “improved” version of myself: cynical, oblivious, and just settling for what’s barely good enough. Things I never thought I’d turn into. By somehow finally treating you the last few months in the way I did, it’s a fruition from a long and obvious realization of how I really am to you: a “friend” who you’d want at your beck and call to provide your material needs. And nothing in the world can make you see otherwise, or to make you see how pure and sincere my intentions for you were, or how I risked and did everything just to make you feel good about yourself. So go and flirt, take advantage, and ride all the guys you can take. You can get any guy you want at any time because hey, you have your “needs” after all, right? They’d be putty in your hands. Believe me, I know all about your “needs;” more than you think I do. You have done anything and everything you can–and I do mean anything AND everything–to get to where you are now, so you deserve whatever things that are coming your way. I sincerely mean that in the most positive way. Who knows, maybe someday you can be able to literally fuck me too by sheer happenstance. And that may probably, probably somehow be enough for you to give back or make up for everything I’ve done for you. Maybe. Maybe not. I guess we’ll never know. I could continue to go on saying what’s on my mind, but knowing you, you’re not even close to being prepared to hear everything else I have to say. And I think you won’t ever be. This will be the very last time I would talk about you or make you the subject of my blog entries. So again, I say thank you. Pat yourself on the back or give yourself a round of applause. You must be extremely proud.

With that having finally gotten out of my system, this is now me. Broken, yet somehow reborn. Surviving, yet scarred. The person who now settles instead of having hopes. Remnants or fragments of my old self may appear in the way I talk from time to time, but only for conversational purposes. Yet the only thing that I carry from the old me is that I keep my word. Whatever statements and promises I made before, I will stand by them no matter what. I will be redesigning my blog in a few days to reflect the changes in me. It’ll be a reboot of some sorts. I again invoke the disclaimer at the beginning of this entry for those not keeping tabs. All entries moving forward will now be more on social, political, or anything else except having to do with emotions or romantic relationships. I’ve dealt with that in the equivalent of two lifetimes already. So I think it’s now the perfect time to permanently step away from it.

Markie’s Journal version 5.0. Soon.

Forward

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There comes a time when despite all of your efforts, your sacrifices, your compromises, grabbing every opportunity and taking every chance you can get; all of your blood, sweat, and tears working and making something you so badly want to happen will not go into fruition. Even if the universe tried to conspire on your behalf, or you have the noblest of intentions, fate dictates otherwise.

But probably what “puts the cherry on top,” is later knowing that the other person never even actually tried or gave what could’ve been something meaningful a chance to blossom. Something that you were told after what would be the perfect chance given to both of you to finally be together. Yet you pressed on, believing that in the end, love will conquer all. But all you got back is emptiness.

Once that realization sets in, tell me, how can you go on? How can you muster the strength to pick up the pieces–again–and start over? The simple answer is: you don’t. You have laid everything on the line, pushed yourself to past the limits you didn’t even know you can, and risked everything in which the repercussions of those actions can and will be felt long after it’s over. You don’t move on. You. Just. Move. Forward.

Carry your battle scars as if they were medals. Wear your beaten-to-a-pulp pride as if they were stripes of rank. Be proud of your shredded heart as if it was a golden trophy. And hold your weary head high because you know you did anything and everything possible for victory… not for you, but for the one person you damn well know will make your own life worth living.

Move forward. Alone. For the best days of your life clearly are now behind you. You have fulfilled what you said you’ll do; you honored your part of the bargain. Bury what’s left of what you feel in your heart. Pick up your feet and put one on front of the other, and keep repeating. Let the whole world see you for the mangled and mortally wounded person you are. So that they will know that with what you’ve been through, you will never, ever go through this with anyone else ever again. Walk until you fall to your knees and the last ounce of your strength finally leaves you. The fight… the war you waged for this thing called true love, is finally, finally over.

For you

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Let me start by saying this:

I love you.

I know that it’s not a surprise to you.  You have known for a long time about the feelings I have for you.  Yet you only stood by and watched how I showed that to you time and again without doing anything.  It meant sacrifices of all kinds just to make sure you’re taken care of and happy.  It meant putting up with you, your personality, your mannerisms and whims just to see that smile of yours.  It meant understanding how you think, act, and adjusting to your imperfections so you can have your way.  I showed you not just my best, but my worst as well.  I wanted you to see who I am entirely; not just the smooth parts.  And I saw your dark sides as well.  But despite that, my feelings never wavered.  In spite of the frustrations I had with you, I came to accept those and wanted you even more.  We all have quirks and flaws.  You have yours and I have mine.  But the things we accomplished together was the fuel that fired the unquenchable hope I have of what we could be–what we could have been.  Together.

We had our own relationships with different people; but somehow, I believed fate–and probably the universe conspiring–brought us back in sight of each other to give us that elusive chance of making magic.  I was enormously happy with the relationship I had that time and was, for my part, hell bent on making it last, and you were too with your own; but it somehow seemed that a greater power wanted us to be thrown back into the mix.  When we started regularly going out again, I was ready to pick up where we (or I) seemingly left off as far as how I am to you.  I gamely re-took the task head on to prove myself again to you despite what otherwise my friends were telling me because of our one-sided history.  I sincerely believed we were given another opportunity, and I for my part, was not willing to pass that by despite my own reservations.  But what drove me more was you telling me that we can have a do over and start again.  And so I did.  I made you see who I am entirely because “only the best foot forward” is not the way to go. I showed you the man who is willing to do anything and everything to take care of you; the man who became paranoid at the slightest thought of dishonesty from you since you yourself said to me once that you don’t like being lied to; the man who misses you the moment we part ways, anxiously waiting for the next time when we’ll see each other again; the man who gets disappointed when plans are canceled at the last minute; the man who thinks of you from the moment I wake up and having you in my thoughts before I fall asleep; the man who gets jealous when you go out with other guys, even though I don’t have the right to; and the man who tells you how terribly I miss you, how deeply I love you, and how I want to spend my entire life moving forward to waking up next to you each and every morning until the day I die.

But for you, all of that still wasn’t enough.  Despite the chances we have been given, the wonderful and memorable things we experienced and did together, you still went another route.  I gave and gave and gave everything. There was nothing more I could have possibly done. I accepted you, your past, and your imperfections.  You kept things from me.  I believe you have deep dark secrets that you don’t allow anyone to know about.  Even when it hurt my heart so bad, I stood there loving you through it all.  You continued to push me away from your heart while you seemingly had your way with me; and in the process, you got what you emotionally wanted from someone else and decided to just spring the surprise on me, expecting to be all supportive about it.  Now here I am, seemingly left with another black-hole sized abyss with an infinite amount of weight crushing down inside of me wondering this whole time what the hell did I do wrong now.  Yes, I am frustrated.  Yes, I am angry.  Mainly because of the fact that you never gave us a chance despite what you agreed to before if our own relationships with our respective ex’s did not work out.  And yet you were able to give that same chance to someone who also seemingly made you the same promises I did years and years ago.  You never exerted an effort to get to know me deeper amidst the frustrations and disappointments we’ve had. You never tried to build on all the good things we have done together and how potentially bright the future would be for us. You settled for whatever you can take from me while never realizing my worth and value to you after I gave you everything. Everything.  Yes, I am tearfully distraught.  I believe I have every right to be.  I am human too, after all.  And there will always be a lingering thought in me that I can do better in making you happy than who you chose to be with.

But let me continue by saying this:

I still love you.

Like I said, nothing changes in how I feel for you.  And it won’t.  Not ever. Why?  Because you are my greatest love.  The greatest love I never had.  The greatest love only my imagination can ever have.  No other woman can ever set the bar higher than you.  No one else can ever make me feel like the way I have for you.  You are my Kryptonite as well as my oxygen.  You are my reason to get up each morning, and my anxiety in coming up with ways to make you happy.  Almost every little thing reminds me of you, and what we have done together.  I could never see myself doing everything I did for you for someone else anymore.  Because for me, I know that you are the one.

You are the woman who is the last piece of the puzzle in making my life complete.  You are the essence of celebrating special occasions with, and milestones and achievements with.  You are worth going through painful and trying moments with that would make us grow.  You are worth living life for, and spending time with as we age.  You are worth every exciting opportunity we can still have, and the comfort in consoling every defeat we encounter. You are worth the wife to me, and the mother of our would-be children and grandchildren.  You are the ray of sunshine that warms my mornings, and the rain that gives chills on certain days.  Every cell and molecule in my body screams and yearns for you and you alone.  You have never been more humanly beautiful to me inside and out; and I will never, ever fall out of love with you.  Even through the sleepless nights and the times I felt so alone, I would have loved you all my life.  And while I am not thrilled to see you come to terms with him, it’s your happiness that counts.  Always have, always will.  And you are worth the immense pain I am going through right now.  I couldn’t have imagined going through everything we’ve done together with someone else.  I couldn’t have thought of any other woman who’s worthy of what I have given and sacrificed for.  I couldn’t imagine treating someone else as a princess and hopeful eventual queen other than you.  You are my world, my galaxy, my universe, and my life. You are my wildest imagination, my ultimate fantasy, my intangible reality, my glittering diamond, my lively tune, and my somber ode. You are my Monday adrenalin, my Sunday rest, my soothing breeze, and my warm blanket at night. You are my forever hope for a chance at a happily married life, my only kept promise of an eternal love, my calming peace, and my resolute and absolute happiness.

And as insanely stupid as it sounds, if there is someone who is worthy of shattering my already broken and mangled heart into a million more pieces, that would be you.

So with that, let me end by saying this:

I love you.  And I always will; no matter what happens.