Repeats

Recently I've logged onto skip a few times and dropped a line for a few guys. I received Eric's response today and I was left in utter shock.

I asked him if he had a girlfriend now and he said, "yes, it was inevitable." Somehow I felt so much pain. I haven't talked to him for at least nine months because I was waiting for him to come visit me. I waited and waited and he never replied to my message. So I said, "oh. No wonder you never came to visit. Well, good luck."

He said, "I wrote a letter to you but I never sent it. I couldn't cause you more pain."

Now I wonder what's in the letter. I already feel a lot of pain anyway. Doesn't every man do this to me? They never tell me the truth because they don't want to hurt me, but the results are the same; I feel infinite pain and am always left alone. Do they really not want to hurt me or they're protecting themselves from feeling guilty?

Then images of different men flash through my mind. I thought about Cato a while ago. I recalled the time when he wanted to cuddle with me all day long after he came back from Japan. I remember our first kiss, when he was quite drunk and called me in the middle of the night. I remember when he hugged me when I was crying out of jealousy and insecurity. I remember the time when he showed me hundreds of pictures taken in Japan.

I also thought of JJ. I drove past his home in the City of Rain a couple of days ago. I felt triggered. I went to a party at his magnificent house once. I remember our first kiss. I remember our last goodbye. I also imagined him showing in a street corner and we'd meet again just like that.

As for Eric, I imagined us to meet again in Bali over Christmas, when we both happen to be vacationing there. But that'll never happen because he's all gone.

I've thought of Frank lately because he messaged me last week. He told me he had thought of me lately and he remembered me as passionate and a good kisser. At first I tried to ignore him because it all seemed like he wanted sex. But then he said I was passionate because I was emotional and cried a lot, which got me thinking these days. Does he really appreciate me being an emotional and sensitive woman and value these qualities to be passionate? So, I've thought of the first time we met in person, our first kiss, and the night when I ran away from home and cried in his chest. He comforted me, bought me drinks, and smiled.

Today, I took the subway from a stop that's close to Alex's home. I drop by that stop quite frequently but today I had the opportunity to breathe in deeply some air in the neighborhood. Then I remember the time when we came out from that subway stop to see the Cirque du Soleil. I remember his face next to mine. We were both so happy that night. He planned everything. He stood there when I was already inside of the subway station to head home. I turned back, feeling so afraid that he might be gone, but he was still standing there, smiling at me. It was a reassurance that I had nothing to be afraid of. I was always afraid of turning back to farewell the guy again because I would feel sad and disappointed if he wasn't there. But Alex was, and he was smiling so happily. I remember the first time we kissed, and the first time I saw a man proposing to a woman.

Of course, there's Ken. I keep seeing images of him holding me to sleep when he was completely drunk and his nous weren't working. I always see his smile from sheer happiness and shyness whenever he saw me.

Where are all these men now? I need someone now to hold me to sleep and I can wake up without feeling broken, empty, or lonely.

Also, I think about Baby too. Any image of her makes me lose control of my tears. Even just saying her name makes me cry.

Dear X, let's have a pledge here. We'll meet up in Bali this Christmas, as in Eat, Pray, Love. If you really exist, if we're meant to be, let's meet up this Christmas. It'll be deadly romantic and we'll be happy ever after. OK?

 

I wish I were afraid of death.

Recently my family have been concerned about my safety because the paparazzi have found out that the shopping mall downstairs built a pipeline that goes across my condo, which means there's a chance of gas explosion if anything goes wrong.

But I simply couldn't care less.

At this point in my life, death doesn't scare me at all because I have no family, no life partner. You see, X, if you were here right now, I would have been so scared of death because I wouldn't be able to stand a minute without you. There would too many things I'd like to do with you for the rest of our lives, things that might take more than the rest of our lives to complete. I would be so obsessed with longevity so that we could spend more time together. By more I mean, there's an infinite want for me to be with you, which makes a hundred years of life scarce for my want. 

Now, life seems too long to me. I don't know why I'm working so hard to save money for our family when I don't even know where you are, who you are. Why would I care so much about getting ready for our family when no one is there to hold me? Are you working as hard as I am to get ready for our family? Are you as alone as I am at this moment? Or are you actually in another woman's embrace and having a good time?

Gosh I hate you already, dear X. If you're not suffering as much as I am right now, I might not be able to treasure you when we actually meet one day. Because, I have always assumed that you're somewhere, struggling as much as I am to get to me one day so that we will cherish so much whatever we will have together. We will both know profoundly how rare and invaluable our love will be and never waste a second when we're together. 

Where are you tonight? Are you crying for the intermittent pain that twitches your heart tonight? I am. If you are too, I wish we could embrace each other right now and say to each other, "It's OK now. We'll never be apart again."

Endlessly

"Endlessly"

There's a shop down the street,
where they sell plastic rings,
for a quarter a piece, I swear it.
Yeah, I know that it's cheap,
not like gold in your dreams,
but I hope that you'll still wear it.

Yeah, the ink may stain my skin,
and my jeans may all be ripped.
I'm not perfect, but I swear,
I'm perfect for you.

..and there's no guarantee,
that this will be easy.
It's not a miracle ya need, believe me.
Yeah, I'm no angel, I'm just me,
but I will love you endlessly.
Wings aren't what you need, you need me.

There's a house on the hill,
with a view of the town,
and I know how you adore it.
So I'll work everyday,
through the sun, and the rain,
until I can afford it.

Yeah, your friends may think I'm crazy,
cause they can only see,
I'm not perfect, but I swear, I'm perfect for you.

..and there's no guarantee,
that this will be easy.
It's not a miracle ya need, believe me.
Yeah, I'm no angel, I'm just me,
but I will love you endlessly.
Wings aren't what you need, you need me.

(You need me, I know you need me,
you need me, I know you need me)

Ink may stain my skin,
and my jeans may all be ripped.
I'm not perfect, but I swear,
I'm perfect for you.

..and there's no guarantee,
that this will be easy. (This will be easy)
It's not a miracle ya need, believe me. (Won't you believe me?)
Yeah, I'm no angel, I'm just me,
but I will love you endlessly.
Wings aren't what you need, you need me. (You know you need me)

(I know you need me)
You need me,
(I know you need me)
You need me,
(I know you need me)

There's a shop down the street,
where they sell plastic rings,
for a quarter a piece, I swear it.
Yeah, I know that it's cheap,
not like gold in your dreams,
but I hope that you'll still wear it.

I've been so exhausted by work this summer. I wish summer could be over soon. The swelling loneliness and impatience are somewhere in me and I need an out, like a catharsis.  I had always thought "endlessly" was a word for work, loneliness, pain, etc. But now someone has used to describe love and I feel entirely amazed, touched, warm, bittersweet.