Disclaimer: This is going to be a long piece of rant.
Let’s talk about LOVE.
I know I’ve owned the drama queen title for almost half a
decade and this blogsite has been my avenue to proliferate my emoish and fucktard brain farts. People
who regularly read my blog (because I am forcing them to do so) knew that my
whole life is written here. I am updating this blogsite more often than I clean
my room. Meaning, this is my whole life.
Last week, I have a
terrible realization while scanning my past entries—I missed being in love.
I missed the emotional rollercoaster rides. I missed all the
cheeziness and the gooeyness. I missed the feeling of having someone to hold
you at night and cuddle you till you fall asleep. I missed the kisses and the
hugs. I missed the constant feeling of love and being in love. I missed the
fights and the overbearing relationship dramas and woes. I missed being in a relationship.
I just had my heart (and life) broken a year ago and it was
one of the lowest points of my life. I was shattered into million pieces. I
died a year ago (not literally but almost) and was able to rise back from the
dead. It was a terrible travesty but with the help of my family and friends, I
was able to survive and get back on my feet again. Now, I am back in the game;
back in the corporate world; back in my usual normal-abnormal state; back to
being jolly… back to being ME.
But even in the state of undefined bliss, I knew eventually
I will have to try and fall in love again. It is not emotionally healthy to
withstand my lack of emotional companionship with teeny bopper crushes and
celebrity obsession. I can’t live my life sustaining the emptiness inside me
with casual hook-ups and flirting. Sometimes, it’s nice to fantasize that I can
hang out with my friends without feeling sorry for myself because I often ended
up being the ODD in the group. It’s not that I am not happy for their fruitful
and blossoming love life but I really feel a pinch of awkwardness when they
walk hand on hand while I am alone making out with no one but air.
If I feel this way, why am I saying that I am happy being in
this situation? Well, simply because, I am really happy. However, that doesn’t
mean I can live with that until my dying breath. I don’t want to be someone else’s
burden. It’s nice to know that there’s this one person who’ll be there for you
through thick and thin until you’re old and wrinkly. It doesn’t have to end in
wedding bells or marriage license. Just the feeling of one true love is enough
to endure passion and security between two people--heterosexual or homosexual. Lately,
I’ve been trying to prove the world that I can do it by myself-- that I can do
the couple stuffs alone. But I fail almost every day.
So this is me… hoping that one day, love will eventually
knock on my front door and will sweep my feet away, just like in fairy tales. If you’re still with me, thank you for reading this awfully
long piece of rant. Cheers!
