THE MORNING AFTER
Wednesday, August 17, 2005August 13s has always been "dreads" to me because it follows the day of my once-a-year-big-time day. It usually equates to belated greetings from friends who have forgotten your day (which totally sucks, right? admit it, people!), disappointments if birthday expectations did not push through, back-to-reality for some unfinished business you've procrastinated the day before, or as simple as being down because the birthday you've been excited for weeks (or even months) is now officially over (think December 26 and you'll get my message).
August 13 this year turned into an unexpected and super-mega DREADED twist. It was THE DAY OF INFAMY for me and a friend. I know that I should not be blogging about this BUT I just cannot help it. Writing and telling the whole world about it is an outlet AND I really have to let this one out. I also have to convince myself again and again and again that it actually happened.
I am still in shock because it was probably the saddest decision I've ever made.
Yes, it ended.
The bucket of tears came back in full force, the agony and paranoid feeling made it presence again, and the loss is somewhat heavier and heftier this time. The weird thing is...he's helping me cope. We are actually helping and praying for each other in going through this detachment process. Gone are the talks, texts and calls, but I can still sense his supportive presence on each tear I shed.
It hurts...
because of the frustrations, the baggage, and the guilt.
because we cannot do anything about it.
because we are both in misery.
because we still long for the last embrace and the last hug.
because we've given up on the best relationship we both could possibly have.
because we still want to stay.
Most importantly...I HURT because I loss a buddy, a critique, a guru, a pal, a partner, a driving teacher, a textmate...
...a bestfriend.
The last few weeks were very special because I truly found a BEST friend in him (yeah, i know that a lot of people call you their best, but you know what I mean). We've always set our best foot forward in the past but I somehow learned to open up, set our many differences, and unleashed my self to him in the last moments we've shared. I remembered his best effort in understanding Snape's good-bad-good-bad behavior and Dumbledore's death because it means so much to me. I appreciated his poem book gift since he wants to share one of his beloved passions which I am not so crazy about (since I am more of a prose person). I like the way we make crazy rules on our eating habits and other issues in our lives. But most especially...I love the way he wipe my tears constantly even if those very tears are meant for him.
I will truly miss him and the weird-crazy-before sunset-magical-sassy "luv" we've shared.
This is for the best. (?!)
"Perhaps love makes us old before our time - or young, if youth has passed. But how can I not recall those moments? That is why I write - to try to turn sadness into longing, solitude into remembrance. So that when I finish telling myself the story, I can toss it into the Piedra. Only then - in the words of one of the saints - will the water extinguish what the flames have written. All love stories are the same".
August 13 this year turned into an unexpected and super-mega DREADED twist. It was THE DAY OF INFAMY for me and a friend. I know that I should not be blogging about this BUT I just cannot help it. Writing and telling the whole world about it is an outlet AND I really have to let this one out. I also have to convince myself again and again and again that it actually happened.
I am still in shock because it was probably the saddest decision I've ever made.
Yes, it ended.
The bucket of tears came back in full force, the agony and paranoid feeling made it presence again, and the loss is somewhat heavier and heftier this time. The weird thing is...he's helping me cope. We are actually helping and praying for each other in going through this detachment process. Gone are the talks, texts and calls, but I can still sense his supportive presence on each tear I shed.
It hurts...
because of the frustrations, the baggage, and the guilt.
because we cannot do anything about it.
because we are both in misery.
because we still long for the last embrace and the last hug.
because we've given up on the best relationship we both could possibly have.
because we still want to stay.
Most importantly...I HURT because I loss a buddy, a critique, a guru, a pal, a partner, a driving teacher, a textmate...
...a bestfriend.
The last few weeks were very special because I truly found a BEST friend in him (yeah, i know that a lot of people call you their best, but you know what I mean). We've always set our best foot forward in the past but I somehow learned to open up, set our many differences, and unleashed my self to him in the last moments we've shared. I remembered his best effort in understanding Snape's good-bad-good-bad behavior and Dumbledore's death because it means so much to me. I appreciated his poem book gift since he wants to share one of his beloved passions which I am not so crazy about (since I am more of a prose person). I like the way we make crazy rules on our eating habits and other issues in our lives. But most especially...I love the way he wipe my tears constantly even if those very tears are meant for him.
I will truly miss him and the weird-crazy-before sunset-magical-sassy "luv" we've shared.
This is for the best. (?!)
"Perhaps love makes us old before our time - or young, if youth has passed. But how can I not recall those moments? That is why I write - to try to turn sadness into longing, solitude into remembrance. So that when I finish telling myself the story, I can toss it into the Piedra. Only then - in the words of one of the saints - will the water extinguish what the flames have written. All love stories are the same".
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