quiet desperation
while i harbor doubts about the therapeutic qualities of posting my thoughts for all the world-as if naman- to see, i find that the act of writing helps...to a certain extent. and really, in all probability i'll be the only one to see this, so i might as well have fun.
the past month was one filled with disappointment. with people, with a person, with myself. and while in the end i have only myself to blame, there are moments when i think...maybe...maybe it wasn't just me.
and i have never been one to easily let go of things, of people. i carry them , their words their deeds, in my heart, til long after they walk out of my life.
i remember this guy, i fell for him when i was all of seventeen and he was twenty-five, and i spent a year and a half with him, eager to please, eager to accommodate, eager to overlook anything, and everything. i was always afraid of saying the wrong thing, of doing the wrong thing, and in the end, i ended up saying nothing and doing nothing.
and when i finally asked that question i was ready to hear the answer to, when he answered and told me it was over,(when he left for two other girls) i could feel the weight of ten thousand sad songs crash upon my head. and his was the memory i carried with me for the next three years and the next two guys.
and when i saw him again and he explained things to me and asked for my forgiveness, all i could say in the end was that i had forgiven him, that i had from the day it ended. it was the memories i couldn't forgive, because they haunted me, they kept me awake, they kept me in tears. and when he apologized for those memories, i stopped myslef from saying that no matter how many apologies were given for them, they were for naught...because as long as i had love in me for him, those memories would cause me pain. and i had love for him. which in the interest of moving on i kept unsaid.
one memory that i really carried with me was that for that year and a half i felt like the most inadequate person in the world. too many people took pleasure in pointing out that i was too young, and a student, and that i didn't fit in his world. and too many times they said it, until i started to believe it, and from then on i started to live in quiet desperation,trying trying trying to show him there was a way to work it out, trying to show him i wasn't that affected, trying for....i don't know. then i stopped trying, and asked him to break my heart.
there have been guys since him, but he is the memory i have kept closest to me, cause he was the one i loved first, and he was the one who hurt me the most.
and the memory of that inadequacy became a reality yet again...this month.
i got rid of the fear of doing and saying the wrong thing...and then with this one i kept on saying the wrong things. when all i wanted to say was... stop pointing out problems without offering solutions. it shouldn't always be emotion, yes, but then again it shouldn't always be logic. stop holding me to a standard i will never measure up to.
and that i care. and i believe that the god we both pray to, albeit in a different way, would not have brought us together if there was no possible way to work differences out.
but there is truth in what he said, that in summary we tried and it didn't work and now it's done.
i can accept the decision, i will reserve my dissent, and go on. but not before adding yet another memory of moment of quiet desperation to my store of memories.
because i did care. and you really can't go back to nothing. there are things you just can't share with other people and then walk away from. and i am not the type of person to be cold and clinical and unilateral.
he asked why it was so wrong to exercise the option to end things. it wasn't. i probably would've. the fine line between too different and not too different really could become too faint at times. i dissent because....well, because.
and time will judge me the idiot here, and i will judge myself the idiot. but this is not the first time i have let my emotions rule my dealings with people, and this is not the first time i.have not shrunk away from the possibility of falling in love. and i'd rather have these types of memories than quiet, desperate regrets.
the year will end, and i really don't know if i can wait, if i'm waiting for something.
what an incoherent first post.
the past month was one filled with disappointment. with people, with a person, with myself. and while in the end i have only myself to blame, there are moments when i think...maybe...maybe it wasn't just me.
and i have never been one to easily let go of things, of people. i carry them , their words their deeds, in my heart, til long after they walk out of my life.
i remember this guy, i fell for him when i was all of seventeen and he was twenty-five, and i spent a year and a half with him, eager to please, eager to accommodate, eager to overlook anything, and everything. i was always afraid of saying the wrong thing, of doing the wrong thing, and in the end, i ended up saying nothing and doing nothing.
and when i finally asked that question i was ready to hear the answer to, when he answered and told me it was over,(when he left for two other girls) i could feel the weight of ten thousand sad songs crash upon my head. and his was the memory i carried with me for the next three years and the next two guys.
and when i saw him again and he explained things to me and asked for my forgiveness, all i could say in the end was that i had forgiven him, that i had from the day it ended. it was the memories i couldn't forgive, because they haunted me, they kept me awake, they kept me in tears. and when he apologized for those memories, i stopped myslef from saying that no matter how many apologies were given for them, they were for naught...because as long as i had love in me for him, those memories would cause me pain. and i had love for him. which in the interest of moving on i kept unsaid.
one memory that i really carried with me was that for that year and a half i felt like the most inadequate person in the world. too many people took pleasure in pointing out that i was too young, and a student, and that i didn't fit in his world. and too many times they said it, until i started to believe it, and from then on i started to live in quiet desperation,trying trying trying to show him there was a way to work it out, trying to show him i wasn't that affected, trying for....i don't know. then i stopped trying, and asked him to break my heart.
there have been guys since him, but he is the memory i have kept closest to me, cause he was the one i loved first, and he was the one who hurt me the most.
and the memory of that inadequacy became a reality yet again...this month.
i got rid of the fear of doing and saying the wrong thing...and then with this one i kept on saying the wrong things. when all i wanted to say was... stop pointing out problems without offering solutions. it shouldn't always be emotion, yes, but then again it shouldn't always be logic. stop holding me to a standard i will never measure up to.
and that i care. and i believe that the god we both pray to, albeit in a different way, would not have brought us together if there was no possible way to work differences out.
but there is truth in what he said, that in summary we tried and it didn't work and now it's done.
i can accept the decision, i will reserve my dissent, and go on. but not before adding yet another memory of moment of quiet desperation to my store of memories.
because i did care. and you really can't go back to nothing. there are things you just can't share with other people and then walk away from. and i am not the type of person to be cold and clinical and unilateral.
he asked why it was so wrong to exercise the option to end things. it wasn't. i probably would've. the fine line between too different and not too different really could become too faint at times. i dissent because....well, because.
and time will judge me the idiot here, and i will judge myself the idiot. but this is not the first time i have let my emotions rule my dealings with people, and this is not the first time i.have not shrunk away from the possibility of falling in love. and i'd rather have these types of memories than quiet, desperate regrets.
the year will end, and i really don't know if i can wait, if i'm waiting for something.
what an incoherent first post.
posted by peach at 3:03 AM
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