Posts Tagged ‘moving on’

Is it fair to seek solace from someone just because someone we love so dearly chose to hurt us? Is it fair to run into someone else’s arms so that we can escape the pain that we feel? If we stay stuck with that someone, is it giving justice to the heart that has been shattered and broken by someone else?

As I am typing this, I can mutter to myself that I know the answer. Two strong letters – NO. I learned this the hard way… Hard enough that I feel like it’s not just my heart that has been broken, it seems like my soul also died when I fell too bad. I learned this lesson mistake after mistake, regret after regret… And no one knows, but everyday, I have to live, to survive; and the memories that I replay over and over in my head help me through each day.

I was devastated and was suffering for two long years, longing for someone I thought will never come back. I eventually learned that the person from my past is happy with someone, and a large chunk of my dying soul knows that I should move on.  And it was four years ago, on this very day, when I sought solace in the arms of someone. It was that long ago when I entrusted him not only a fragment of my heart, I also gave him my freedom. I gave him the gun and allowed him to point it in my head, yet trusted him not to pull the trigger. In all fairness, he was caring. He was responsible, understanding, conversant – he was technically someone I will wish to have with me. There were mishaps, yet, we were able to work things out. He has been supportive, he was my motivator. He was that one person who listens to my crazy thoughts and never judged. He was that one person I know I can always draw strength from. There was even an instance when I was drowning (literally) and he risked his life just to save me. It was one of the best memories I have of the person he used to be.

Four years… I wonder where we are now. I don’t know what happened to us. We eventually ended up living our own lives, chasing our own dreams, thinking about ourselves and disregarding each other’s emotions. I do not know when it started, or how long this relationship (if there is still one) will last.

What ticked me off? Maybe it is him being too controlling. Maybe it was the whole “you-cannot-wear-make-up-and-heels-and-skirts thing” that made me lose myself in the process. I got too comfortable with the fact that I am living up to his standards that I suddenly wake up one day and realized that I no longer can see the person I used to be. I woke up one day seeking for the old persona that was once me, struggling to outshine the version that he made of me. I won this battle against personal pride that I ended up getting promotions in exchange of constantly pushing myself to the limits. What ticked him off? Maybe it was my lack of time, maybe it was my growing desire to improve myself, maybe it is when I talk back in attempt to drive my point, maybe it is about my responsibilities, maybe it is his monster ego… He started going out alone, usually away for most of the weekends which is the only time I can spend with him. He chose not to inform me of his whereabouts. He kept his distance by watching movies alone. Until I stopped asking for him to share those with me, until I learned to spend more time with other people, until I enjoyed the fact that I am being myself, until I realized that I can be happy without him… Until I got used to how he was taking me for granted that I am not looking for him anymore… And right now, there is one thought that we should stop this or else we will end up hating each other…

I wanted to walk away, like I felt when we first realized that we cannot work out individual differences. Then, I was scared that he will not come running after me, so I chose to stay and spare myself the pain. Right now, I do not know whether I stayed because I loved him, or if I just did because I don’t want to be broken again. I found out the answers I was dying for, the truth. The truth that if I run away, he will not chase me, nor follow me… The truth that I am already insignificant. I am not really bothered by that. I have learned to accept  that love fades in time. Maybe his did, and mine slowly falters… That is the way of life and that cycle is something that we cannot stop.

Well, fourth year. In our educational system, fourth year means High School Graduation… Maybe we are just meant to teach each other lessons, and move on from there, living our separate lives. I am lost, really. A part of me wants to make it work still. Yet, I know that I will lie to myself and I will eventually hate him if I do. A part of me just wants to run away, seek my place in the sun, wait for that one soul that my heart is crying out loud for.

For those who know the story, thank you for standing up by me. Thank you for making me feel that I am not alone. For those who don’t and thinks that I am the one at fault, thank you. I can never please people and most of the time, humans have the tendency to hold half-truths and half-lies to be true. Continue thinking that it was me that should be blamed if you want to, but I will never explain to anyone – I seriously don’t have to…

©CCM ~ 26/04/2011

 

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Night, Cha. There is more to life than falling in love. Smile

It was a message sent to me by a friend. It was short, yet it haunted me. It is true, yet not so true.

Suddenly, I find  myself walking down the path of my well-kept memories. I found him there, standing and looking at me, waiting for me patiently. He smiled at me, kissed my cheek, and hugged me. I hugged him back, took his hand, and walked with him towards the bus stop… We were sitting beside each other, holding hands, enjoying the peace and comfort each one radiates… I was playing with his nephews, I was running all over their place chasing the kids, he was yelling so we would stop ‘cause he was afraid that I would bump my head or skin my knees… I was sitting at a bench reading a book while waiting until his class is over, he suddenly hugged me from behind and kissed my cheek, whispered in my ear and told me how much he loved me… We were watching a movie, he was holding me as the coldness sent me shivers… He was kissing me tenderly, and I was kissing him back. The world around us stopped moving, and we are alone, soaked in the magic of a love greater than how we always imagined it… We were crying, holding each other’s hand, talking about how uncertain the future is for us. He swore he loved me, and I uttered the same. My heart was bleeding, and my soul felt like dying that I can no longer utter words to make him feel better. I held him close to me, and he held on me the way a small child would… We were sitting beside each other, looking at the stars. Nobody’s talking, because we know that talking means more pain. We were just holding each other’s hand, savoring the moment, uncertain as to when it would happen one more time… He picked his bags up, and turned his back, walked with his mother towards the big gate. I was left there, looking at him, holding at the car door as I felt my knees weakening… He called to say they were able to check in at the airport and were just waiting for their flight, he professed his love for me, and I did the same. They had to go, we hung up. Afterwards I found myself being consoled by his sister, telling me that things will eventually be okay… He was crying on the phone asking me what was going on, I said “Nothing.” and asked him to just let it go. I used all strength I had so that I would sound apathetic, and he didn’t know that my heart was dying, that my soul is bleeding, and I knew that it was the last of me… Six years after, I find myself looking in his eyes, holding his hand, kissing him one more time, yet I cannot openly say “I love you” like the way I used to, because things are different now. We are living our lives apart and we both know that it is how it should be. It is how fate decided for us both, and no matter how much it hurts me, we must move on…

I think of him ever so often. In my lonely hours, I cannot stop myself from wishing he is here beside me, holding my hand, and giving me that peace, that comfort that only he can give. In the good times, I am wishing he is with me to share the joys I am feeling for that  moment. I so wanted to have him near, because I know that I will never be judged when I am with him, I do not have to put up a mask so that I will be accepted. I know that with him, I can be myself. Yet, reality hits me ever so often and I know that those were just empty wishes, some prayers I shoot to an infinite void, a vacuum that will just consume – and not grant – it. I know that he is lost to me forever, and I still blame myself. I still blame myself for losing him, for being weak, for giving him up, and for lying to myself. I still condemn myself for killing myself by means of letting him go.

There is more to life than him, thank God. There are things that I need to focus on, things that I need to think about. I have my personal responsibilities, I have my career to take care of, I have personal goals that I need to fulfill. I have a lot on my plate. These things oftentimes preoccupy my thoughts, yet, I cannot escape from that burning truth – that I need someone to love me, I need someone I can share myself with, I found him and I set him free. I sound desperate, I know. A side of me is even condemning myself for feeling this, as I write this. Yet, it is a truth I cannot get away from…

One thing that fascinate me the most is my desire to always be there for him, no matter what. There are times that his dual nature would just shrug me off and push me away. Yet I stay. I am surprised that I wanted to be there for him because I know  that he needed someone to understand him and truly care for him. It is sick that I don’t want him to suffer like the way I am feeling. Yet, does he ever thing about me the same way? Does he even want the same thing for me? I do not know, and I do not care. I want him to be happy, that is all.

In one conversation we had, he called me a blessing. Yet I call myself “Cursed” still. Note that a blessing ignored is a curse, and I feel that way sometimes. I feel pathetic sometimes, hanging on to a weakening strand of hope – even if I already know that there is nothing left in him, nothing that will give me a reason to ever go back.

There is more to life than falling in love, yes. Yet, I would gladly do it over and over with him. I would bleed willingly and joyfully. Because with him, I feel alive. And together, I know that there is more to life…

© CCM; 18-04-11

The past is always a fragment of who we are. It is a portion of ourselves that helped us become the person we are in the present. It never fails to bring out a gamut of human emotions, good and bad. No matter how much we deny it, we find solace in it, a calming feeling.

I had a chance on seeing someone this week and she gave me a box that I left when I once lived with her. A box that is so plain and boring, a bit dusty as it was kept in her closet for more than six years. I recognized it and it bore my name in my handwriting, so I took it from her and opened it. And I was surprised as to what I saw.

There infront of me are letters given to me by random people, an old box of chocolates, some paper flowers, old movie and concert tickets, little ribbons, small notes, and a couple of other little items. I was surprised that she kept it, even more surprised that I had this habit of collecting whatever is given to me, big or small. I was stunned that indeed, I am a person of great sentimentality. Or am I just a prisoner of my past, like what I always had been?

I took the box home, and suddenly found myself reading through small notes and letters, checking each chocolate wrapper, looking at each folded flower, appreciating small poems sent to me… all while walking down an alley of my past. I suddenly felt like I am lighting up one dark alley of the past, an alley whose streetlights were once shut down, by the lonely soul in me. I find myself playing memories in my head, reliving each moment spent with friends and other people close to me.

The feeling is strange. I suddenly miss these old friends and began to wonder where they are right now. I began to think of how kismet brought us together, and how changes, chances, decisions, and opportunities made us all drift apart. There is a small fragment of my soul that feels happy because I know that in one way or another, I was able to experience the bliss of pure friendship and there is that much people who once cared for me and appreciated who and what I am – the friends I lost in time. I am happy that some even appreciated who and what I have become – the friends I still keep with me. And mostly, I am happy for the lessons I have learned in all that decade, lessons that molded me and made me the person I am now.

I was asked as to what I would do to it, and I decided to burn the box. Right now, the mementos are not important. I do not need reminders, I do not need to keep items just to keep the memories alive. The memories are already here with me, etched in my soul, never will they fade. I will always remember each face inside that box, each memory, each lesson learned. Afterall, what matters is not what you did together, but what you LEARNED together.

To the person who kept these for me, thank you. To each face inside the box of memories, you will always be remembered. To my friends who stayed, you are all appreciated… I will then take a step back to reality with a smile on my face with these new discoveries.

© CMN

The Star Poet Award for Week 37

 

The sun shall never compare,
to the warmth soaking in her skin.
His probing eyes gently staring at her,
drowning all her fears within.
His touch, his sweet smile,
telling her everything will be okay;
Like it has always been,
an eternity ago.

His hand perfectly fitting hers,
clasping hers.
And she knows that the battle has been finally won.
All the years she keeps on running away
are finally over.
He is right there, infront of her,
within her reach.

His lips touching hers in a union so surreal,
locking himself in.
Teasing.
Tasting.
Her inhibitions slowly fading,
her pride, her fears all are gone.
She stopped fighting her ideal bonds,
fearlessly succumbing to her mortal shards.
Feeling.
Breathing him in.
Losing herself.

Just then, the dream starts vanishing,
reality slowly sinking in…

He is sleeping peacefully in her arms,
eyes closed.
His chest heaving rhythmically rising and falling.
Arms enveloping her.
Limbs wrapping her in a deadly embrace.
And she is just staring.
Thinking.
Taking all in.
Keeping each detail in her memory,
preserving each moment in her heart and soul.
Knowing it would soon be over.

And so it is.

The hourglass is almost empty now,
she is on her half-waking dream.
He began to walk away,
closing every door behind him.
Taking steps away,
away, away from her.
Not looking back.

He got what he always wanted,
her heart and soul.
She got what she always deserved,
her death.

He is lost to her forever,
while her name, he can no longer remember.
She is left alone,
on hollow corners of her memory.

Slowly dying,
tears falling.
Facing her bitter end.

© CMN

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was idly sitting, pondering on moments that was once lost but regained, things that was once ignored but noticed, dares that were once temptations but taken. I look back on the images that plague my soul, conversations that ring in my ears, and the scent that crippled my human form. I cannot help but walk down that dark alley of memories, once sweet and inviting, now hollow and sordid. And I felt like I needed a good cry, I badly needed one. Just to empty my heart and soul, just to liberate myself from the fangs of the past, just for me to move forward.

Then I think of the things we did and promises we made, of parting songs and farewell words. I looked on how things are now. And that’s when it hit me. That’s when reality bit me.

Author’s Notes: As always, thank you, Jingle for keeping me going. You and the rest of the poets in the rally makes me inspired each time I visit. Here’s an entry for week 38.

 

Nickel screws and copper bolts;
Aluminum plates and metal knobs.
Its stare empty, its chest is cold,
The scientist called it A-2004.

He opened its case,
and was shocked.
Beneath the metal casing,
there is a heart that is faintly beating.

He pulled the memory chip,
watched as a laser beam hugged it.
He was taken aback,
as he viewed ghastly images,
of a long forgotten past…

He saw his face, his smiles, his tears.
He felt his every emotion
on every fragment of memory saved.
He sensed the agony and the pains,
the happiness and sorrows,
of the woman who owned the heart,
and those memories.

A drop of that salty fluid
made its trail on his cheek.
He took the heart,
and locked it on the safe.
Along with the chip –
the chip of broken promises
and shattered dreams.

A new chip was installed,
electrical circuits replaced the heart.
As memory increased,
functionalities were optimized,
and applications were installed,
The scientist killed it.

What he have now is an android,
devoid of truth, of affective fallacies.
It is his masterpiece, CA-2011.

© CMN

Thank you, Jingle. The rally keeps me inspired. It is an honor to be on it.

 

Buttoned eyes,
drawn lips.
Arms and limbs,
sewn in a stuffed cloth.
Scrap fabric
covering its nakedness.

The little girl,
whose eyes shames the stars,
held it close to her.
As a mother would
to her child.

Years pass,
the girl forgot.
About the sweet little one,
whom she cradled,
when all the world scared her…

One eye unbuttoned,
lips fading.
Arms almost unstitched,
from the stuffings.

The girl is now a woman.
And it is just,
a ragged rag doll.

© CMN

~~~~~~~

In one way or another, we all have to move on. People would eventually forget the smiles and tears and memories that you shared together. Years will pass, but there are things that would remain the same. And there are people who would always feel left behind. 😥

Addendum: This poem is also a form of acceptance of an award I got from Jingle’s “Thursday Poetry Rally”. I nominate Danroberson’s “My Life Will not be a Stagnant Pond” for Week 37.

A captivating view of colors and light;
A wink of his eye, a quiver of his lips.
A tear from her eyes, their warm embrace.
A beauty painted by life, viewed under lenses
– captured by the shutter.
Kept in a dark-infested room,
Until such magnificence is caught on paper.

I grab ahold of it,
Stared at it.
Suddenly, mesmerized as I
– the lady whose tear fell –
remembered the feeling…
I held it close to my heart,
kept it.

One.
Five.
Ten.
Twenty.
Times I changed my calendar.

My hair is graying now,
my skin wrinkling.
I pull an old book of poems,
and a photograph fell from it.
I am taken aback as I marvel at the familiar place,
and the man with a younger version of myself.
A man I still remember,
but the feelings seems strange now.

Memories linger,
like the love we once felt.
But like photographs,
love fades…

In time.

© CMN