My heart-sleeved Shirt
[Originally posted Nov. 8, 2008 @ Multiply. Memories. Mem'ries.]The return to wearing my heart on my sleeve...
Acknowledging the ghost
I miss you and I've been missing you for quite some time. I haven't spoken of you but you've been at the back of my head for the past couple of months. It was easy to pretend not to care because in all reality, I did not have intimate feelings for you. How could I, when I am madly in love with my B. I know you made your mark on me simply because at my lowest of low, you saw me. You saw past the weight gain and the self-esteem plunge and the drought in character. You showed me that even without all that I thought made me desirable, I can be and I am. You gave me something to look forward to during those 15-minute breaks and you kept me up during the most lackluster shifts, just by passing me by. Of course, the excitement of keeping under people's radar added to it all. The moment I decided I had to end what we had, I poured it all out and acted as if I had nothing more to say. But I do... and a lot at that.
Confronting the ghost
You said once I left APAC we could spend more time together. Lo and behold! When I left APAC, you seemed to have forgotten. You have a list, after all. One night... just one night. I suppose I would never forget that. I remember. There I was, all convinced it was a simple libido-fueled urge for a tryst and there you were, saying there was more to me that you wanted than just to feel my behind. There I was, slipping and there you were, pushing me to slip further. San Mig Strong Ice must have had quite an influence on you when you asked me to come far far away, just you and me. Haha. I thought I was over my silly vulnerable phase. Oh God, I pray I really am now. (Haven’t I countless times over?) Yet, at my quiet moments, I find myself wishing I could get over the fact that you planned on making a fool of me, with my friend no less. I just cannot see why. Your only explanation was that you were a jerk. I can live with jerks; I just cannot tolerate fucking liars. I meant something to you, huh? Then why was it that you thought I had no right to hold you accountable for anything. My friend was easy to forgive; she had what you didn't - the balls to talk to me. I honestly would've celebrated what the two of you did; we were all brought together in the spirit of fun, weren't we. At least, I would've appreciated the fact that you were able to do that thing, even if it wasn't with me. I never was the jealous type, anyhow. I just cannot shrug off the despise in feeling of being thought to be.
Releasing the ghost
Of all the aches I had to go through in my short existence, I emerged alive and stronger. There is only one way I know how to and it is to write. Write write write. Talking only makes me tenderer; it makes the throb more real. In writing, I exhale it out of my system to an anonymous audience... propelling me into freedom. I've wanted to talk to you but I can't see the necessity of it. You have yours and I have mine and that's the way our worlds should be. Some things are best left unsaid and forgotten. Maybe at some distant moment, in the spirit of fun once again, we may share a couple buckets of beer, a kiss or two and exchange anecdotes from our individual adventures. I do miss you and perhaps I will continue to. I can only hope the same goes for you, even if each of our lives goes on regardless of how the other is.
Takes my heart and puts back in purse…
posted by Ketch Pablo @ 5:38 PM
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