And now I let go of these feelings. It will be damn hard. But I will try. And I will succeed. I’ve done this before. It’s the only thing I’ve been doing when in comes to my own lovelife. Getting over someone I never eve dated.
But I bet it’s way less harder than those legit relationships. I never had that before. Maybe that’s why I protect myself. Maybe that’s why I instinctively push them away and not give them a chance. I recoil whenever I see a potential of it growing into something more. I stay away. I don’t trust at all.
Because when I was younger and naïve, I believed that if you are loyal to people , they would be too. So I trusted. I got disappointed. I got betrayed. I got hurt. I as expecting too much from people.
So now I know. Never let them in. Control. Only let them see what I want them to see.
But there are others, my closest friends could see beyond what I let them. And I’m scared. It’s scary to know that someone could read you. That someone knows that you grin all the time when you’re with the person you like.
It’s scary because I become vulnerable. And being vulerable means I have the possibility of being hurt or being betrayed again. Sometimes, I just force myelf and make myself believe that O trust them so that I on’t worrying all the time with them tellings my secrets and all and make fun of me.
So now, I’ve decided that I won’t care. That I won’t give a f*ck anymore. I’ve suffered enough mentally by over thinking. I’m just tired. Tired.
This feeling. I’m confused. You do this. You do that. You say things. And I don’t know if it’s real or not. Sometimes I almost believe it. But then I tell myself, it’s not real, not real, not real. And then I go back to my senses again.
I talk to you like all of those things never happened. I admit that I pretend everything’s okay, so clear, so trasparent. But please, you must admit there’s a fine gray line there. Or maybe it’s just one sided. Yeah, maybe it’s just one sided.
But can you blame to feel and think this way? Do you realize the things you’re doing and the effect it has on me?
Don’t worry. I expect nothing from you. I don’t expect this to be serious. And I tell myself once more and over and over again…NOT REAL.
Am I already called asexual if my idea of having a relationship or having a boyfriend will just be holding hands, kissing( not much of this even), hugging, watching movies, sitting in silence, talking about Game of Thrones or whatever movies or tv series we watch, and not have sex, foreplay, and whatever overly intimate deeds that most couple now a days do?
I’m just wondering. Because I’m the only one in the group who doesn’t have a boyfriend and not fond of the idea of being overly intimate to one’s partner. My friends already had their experiences. I’m open minded about their experiences. We could have these conversations– sex talks, and who kissed who during our sleepover and the like but the idea of me doing it somehow disgusts me. It seems normal to them but not to me.
And now one friend thinks about setting me up with someone so that I could have a someone.
Can’t I just be single? Alone? and happy? and free?
I mean, I feel lonely sometimes and wonder what it would feel like to have a boyfriend but the thought of my boyfriend asking me to have sex with him immediately appalls me. So I’d rather be single than do that. And because of that, I think now that all guys would ask for more from their girlfriends. So not until a guy comes that would assure that he will hold and suppress his ‘manly urges’ because that’s how he loves me? I would remain single.
For me, a man that has self-control is more admirable that a man that’s proud because he had been with many girls.
You’re hot and then you’re cold.
There are times that I think you don’t like me, that you don’t like having me around.
You ignore me.
You don’t even look at me.
I think you don’t like girls who act like a jobless alcoholic. Of course you don’t.
But if you must know, I’m not that girl you think I am when you saw me getting so drunk.
You didn’t even know why I wanted to get so drunk that night. I had a reason. And drinking was my salvation that time.
I don’t even know why I’m bothered by this, by you ignoring me.
You’re not my boyfriend, even.
The funny thing is that everything you do, every word you say affects me.
Just like that thing you did. That thing when I felt that you made fun of me. Like you mocked me.
You made me feel stupid.
I was hurt.
You hurt me.
And you don’t even know it.
I dreamed of you once you know.
You were singing that song that I always hear on the radio.
Funny because I thought it was a sign from the universe or something.
I wasn’t even thinking about you that time. But then you were in my dream.
Another funny thing is that I don’t even admit to anyone, even to myself that I like you.
That I like you, a lot. More that I should. More that I thought I possibly could.
It has been five years now?
And we’re still friends. We grow closer each year. But it’s never consistent.
Maybe we’ll be like Alex and Rosie.
I thought about you and about the possibility of finally having you after fifty years while reading Rosie Dunne, you know.
Fifty years is a long time. But if that’s what it takes then so be it.
If it’s fate it’s fate.
If it’s not….
Then maybe in our next lives.
Maybe in our next lives, I’d be your type of girl.
I’d be that girl that you don’t even think twice to court.
That girl that will be perfect for you.
That girl that you’d feel protective to.
That girl that’s worth the gasoline and effort to drop her at her house.
That girl that you’d not regret falling in love with.
That girl that would be worth it of everything, every fight, sleepless nights, and empty wallet because you surprise her with the every book that she tells you that she wants to read.
Maybe I could be that girl.
Maybe in our next lives.
But then again, Maybe is never a certainty.
“If you love me….” The guy would say to the girl. Of course, the girl would feel the pressure. She would think that the only way she could prove that she loves him so much is to make love with him. So she permits it. She does it with him. And then, did that guarantee that you would be together forever? How can you be sure that he really loves you? Is sex the measurement of love? How does sex proves the amount of love you have for your partner?
These questions are often in my mind whenever I hear or see people do things that aren’t rational and outside the scope of good morals and logic, in the name of Love. Why? I ask to myself with dibelief. Why are they able to do that? I mean, I don’t judge those people who chooses to have sex prior to marriage. Okay that’s your thing, I won’t mind. But what about those people who are somehow forced to do that because someone wants them to prove how much they love them?
Don’t you see how unfair that is? Can’t I show my love for my special someone without making love with him? Without doing a lot of physical stuff with him? Without lust, in general?
For me, I would really consider it True Love if a man is able to resist his urges and abstain because of the reason I’m not willing to do those stuff with him. For me, it’s true love if he respects my decisions and doesn’t force me into having sex with him just to prove how much I love him.
Call me old school. Traditional. Lame or kill joy. I don’t care. I want my man that way. I want our relationship to be deeper than the physical relationship some couples have. I want us to be bound emotionally, menatally and spiritually. To be able to talk without getting bored with each other. To be in silence together without feeling awkward. To be best friends that we would do crazy things and to do YOLO things together. To be able to care and encourage and love each other. To complement each other and not overlap. Physically, will come when I get married to him. When we’re ready to have a family. When we do it because we are one in purpose to bring a new life in this world.
This may be too idealistic to be true and to actually happen to me. But I’m waiting. I’ll be waiting. Because I know, and I believe he will come. And when I find him, when he finds me…we’ll know right away that we have just found each other.
I won’t admit it. I’ll never. But the years passed by so quickly and I still find myself thinking about you like I shouldn’t be. I was over you. So over you. But you visit my mind ocassionally. Feelings rekindle whenever you talk to me and talk about random madness that I don’t really remember much because It’s either I’m really nervous or just simply drunk.
You confuse me sometimes. I’m utterly convinced that we’re just nothing but friends and that’s instilled in my mind already even if my feelings do fluctuate. I know that we’ll be nothing more. But sometimes, you do things that messes all that up. You make me think that there could be something. You do that, even if you don’t intend to do it. I admit that I liked it when we lay on the floor. With your head on my lower leg. I wanted to brush my fingers through your hair but I didn’t because you might think of something. Those were some of the little things.
But then, I remind myself that all of those are nothing. They don’t have any meaning, no meaning at all. I can’t help wondering sometimes…what if. Then, I remind myself again that it’s impossible. You know, I still miss you. Even though I forget about you. It doesn’t make sense. But what does, when it comes to emotions.
I never got over you, I realized. The feelings still do exist. It’s one of the few constant things in my life, actually. I never stopped caring. Even if I don’t show it. Even if I act like I don’t. Even if I ignore you sometimes and pretend that you don’t exist.
I just let go of my fantasy that we could have something more special than friends have. That we could be together. I let go of that fantasy now. And it will stay forgotten. Because when one’s fantasies are gone, reality hits you like a ten-wheeler truck hits you. And it’s easier to recover that way.