Tag Archives: love

Short and quick

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There are times when you just can’t seem to understand certain things… no matter how hard you try.

You do what you can, knowing what’s good and what’s not.

You mind and go about your own business, and not mind others’ too much.

You do right by people, care deeply for those dear to you and do what you can to make them feel better or be happy.

You appreciate the little things and value what you’re fortunate enough to have.

You’re generous with your time, and spare whatever resources you have to lend a hand without having a second thought.

And yet… things still happen. Or don’t, depending on your perspective.

You try to smile in the midst of all that, and the cycle repeats itself.

Some get lucky and things change for the better. Most others, not so much.

Until such time that you come to terms with what is and what will be.

I have lost count of how many times I asked myself this question during the course of my life:

“will I ever be enough?”

I have yet to hear an answer of more than two letters.

Whether I hear or find it in this lifetime, or someone can truly answer otherwise for me, only time will tell.

Until then, I do what I can.

Have a good week ahead, everyone.

addressing the end (part four)

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She could hear the faint ring on her mobile phone get louder as she regained consciousness amidst a throbbing headache.  The past 48 hours have all been a blur to her:  his revelation at the office and his confession to her.  She remembered an argument, then all of a sudden, him collapsing and her trying to get help.  Between then and now, she tried to piece together everything in between while getting up from her bed.  Her phone stopped ringing as she took it and saw five missed calls.  It was the hospital that was trying to get in touch with her.  Upon realizing this, she hurriedly changed and went out.

Upon arriving, she proceeded to the Intensive Care Unit where he was confined.  The staff in that department recognized her and readily showed her in.  She was now outside his room, separated by a glass wall.  She looked at him as he was sleeping, with various instruments hooked up to him.

“He was asking for you all night,” a female voice said.  She turned around and saw an elderly woman standing just behind her.  She remained silent as she initially didn’t recognize who that person was.  Then she suddenly realized:  it’s his mother.  She finally got the courage to ask her, “how is he?”  “Stable,” was all the mother can reply as a start.  “But the doctors still don’t know for sure.”

She turned around and continued to look at him as his mother went to her side.  “You’re more beautiful in person.  No wonder he talked about you a lot,” the mother said, breaking the unusual silence.  “I wish we could have met under better circumstances,” she replied back.  “He talked a lot of things about you too.”  She then hesitatingly asked, “how long has he been…  sick?”  “Close to eight months now,” his mother said.  “He didn’t want anyone to know except us, the family.  He didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him.  He wanted to continue living life as if nothing’s wrong.  The doctors initially gave him three months, but I noticed a change in him since he started talking about you from the time he first met you.  It’s as if he became more alive than ever.  He would tell how things went at work between you two and all the things he’s done for you which made him smile a lot.  But he told me also about your situation, but knowing my son, once he falls for someone, it’s for real.  And as a mother, I knew that he was deeply in love with you.  He even stopped taking his medication since he said that the pain wasn’t there anymore.  But still, we were careful.  Then about six weeks ago, he became very ill and that’s when the doctors said that the he needed aggressive treatment immediately.  That’s when his condition started to worsen.  I had to arrange to talk to your boss about him leaving the company and making sure that even he doesn’t know the real reason why.  I didn’t realize that things would escalate this quickly, and now he’s here.”

Tears started to fall from both their eyes as her phone rang again.  It was her boyfriend.  She tried to regain her composure as she excused herself to answer it.  His mother then proceeded inside the room and sat next to him.  The beeping sounds of the instruments was routinely interrupted by what can she only make out as her having an argument with someone on the phone outside the room.  She looked at him as he lay there, held his head, brushed his hair back and sobbingly whispered, “she’s here.  She’s finally here.  Wake up.  You have to get ready.  This is it.”

to be concluded…

one heartfelt wish

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Prologue:  This will serve as an “unofficial reboot” of some sorts to my last entry.  Just mere minutes after publishing that one, a chain of events have unfolded which led me to… how would I say it… have a “change of heart” (pun intended).  Nevertheless, I still stood by what I wrote before, and since I’m human, I’m also allowed to change my mind sometimes; and this is one of them.

In a little over 30 days, I again turn another year older.  As I’ve mentioned before, I am a big fan of birthdays; just not my own anymore.  Because over the last decade or more, I have always made other people special when my birthday comes.  I throw parties (in which I obligatory do the spending, and it’s mostly for my family and relatives since they’re the closest to me), soaked up other people’s well-wishes, drank myself to a stupor, or practically did whatever the hell I wanted (within reason, of course).  But two things remained constant year after year:  one, I have not received a physical birthday gift since the early part of 2000 (if my memory serves me right, and yes, birthday cards do NOT count–at least for me; I consider that the thought, not a gift); and two, of course, I’m still single.

I don’t mind not getting any birthday gifts.  I’ve probably gotten used to that over time.  Maybe people throwing a party for me (and not me doing all the spending) would be something nice to experience at least once; but at this stage of my life, seeing most–if not all–my same-aged friends and schoolmates posting pictures online being with their significant others, or having their own families made me think, “am I ever, ever going to be like them?”

Those who really know me up close and personal know how my “love story” goes (if one would ever call it that).  I have fallen in love, was taken for granted, and gotten hurt several times but none even came close to having a real relationship after the last one I had back in ’95-’96.  It’s like I’ve mastered the art of picking up the pieces, falling in love with the wrong woman (always), and being that friend with benefits or the “meantime guy.”  It may be okay during the first few times, but like everything else, it too gets old.  So after having that episode five years ago with the last woman who I tried to pursue (who eventually took advantage of my attitude and ended up being torn to pieces online), not to mention the woman who I last fell in love with in 2004, I thought to myself that the next woman who I will seriously have feelings for, will be it; that she will be the last great risk I’ll have my battered, pieced-up, and tired heart taking.  I honestly never thought that would ever happen despite me continuing to go through the dating scene.  Or so I thought.

So here I am now in this situation again.  But there’s something different.  Really, really different.  The feelings I have for this woman right now is much more than what I’ve experienced before.  And that makes me more scared and excited at the same time.  More than I can imagine.  She makes me have butterflies in my stomach every time we’re together.  She makes my darkest days disappear whenever I see her.  She is my second wind when I feel exhausted.  And she makes me miss her terribly when we’re apart.  I could honestly say that I have never felt this way before.  But looking at the bigger picture, it won’t likely end well for me.  Again.  It’s the proverbial scenario where I have everything to gain and nothing to lose.  But I guess for me to risk every single one of whatever chips my heart has left, I still have something to lose.  And yet for me to feel this way is something I’m very thankful for.  It made me realize that I still have something left in the realm of giving myself to the one who I know (and if all goes well) will make me very happy and finally break that spell of me being single.  Fate has tested me.  Fate is still testing me.  And I’m calling the bluff.

So what does all that have to do with my month-away birthday?  Simple.  If I could have just one gift, just one; one that afterward, I would promise to never, ever have to ask for anything again, is for things to end up happily between us.  I have shown her who and what I am as a person, and what I am capable of doing for her.  Yes, this is me; here I am, pleading to the universe to conspire to have us end up being together.  I suppose I have done lots of good things to other people in my life over the years (including hers) and that I am hoping for some good luck to come my way at least once.  I know that she is the one for me.  Otherwise, I would not have felt this way.  This is whatever is left of me and my heart, and that I would do anything just to make her happy or see her smile and not make her shed a single tear of sadness or feel an ounce of neglect; that I will always be there for her, support her, fight for her and always be proud of her; and that I’d risk my own dreams being fulfilled just to see hers realized, and give up my own happiness in order for her to be treated the way she deserves to be.

And if I’m still not worthy of such a gift, then at least make her feel everything that I just said with someone who will do exactly the same for her.  And I will still do what I have promised, not to ask for anything again.

Though a party for me without me spending anything would be a nice fallback.  Just kidding.