Unbreakable Me

I won’t ever forget you. No, I never will. I promise I shall remember the good times. I will try to forget the bad. And I have forgiven you, just as I wish that I be forgiven. And I will move on, just as I always have. But I’ve learned one lesson, that, it seems to me, I already have learned but I just keep on forgetting (or neglecting): too much love chokes. Too little, it wanders. In any case, it will always fade away. Such is the fate of all whirlwind affairs: brittle, hopeless, unsure. But I promised you that I will always remember the good times. And don’t worry, I would not break that promise. After all, nobody, absolutely nobody, wishes to weep every night. When you told me to say goodbye to you, you broke my heart. In my head were all the countless love songs that I have memorized by heart, all sounding together until they formed a monstrous, overwhelming tide of crescendo that drowned me completely.

I felt that I was being pushed and sent away. But unlike before, I knew that this time I could not push back. No, the law of action and reaction simply refused to hold sway. Your desire to leave me was far too powerful than my ability to love you back. After all, as my favorite song suggested, the questions of science do not speak as loud as my heart. But anyway, your mind spoke much, said much and I simply lost all wind to reply. Why did it fail? Was I so impatient? I could take all th blame, you know. And, besides, my reputation doesn’t speak much for me. This is my best behavior. I am already in my sanest, most humane mode possible. And yet this was not enough. Naturally. This is not enough. I was born short on everything. Poor me. How many times have I been on this similar situation? It breaks my heart, I have been running in circles, after all, breaking hearts and getting heartbroken myself. It breaks my heart to see all the lovers and the sweethearts that have come and go, either by my fault or theirs. No, it was always my fault. I’ve grown old enough to know that. But, I’m sure it just doesn’t have to stop there. But I am still too immature to know.

Where is the old soothsayer, that old witch from the dark, dark caves from the deep forest who will be my fairy godmother and forgive me all my transgressions and absolve my name? Where is she, that old sage who will calm my mind and bring me back to the land of my birth, the stars? Eternal recurrence - I shall try to live each moment as which I can thus to be repeated forever and ever, Amen. No, this heartbreak may have been the end of something beautiful and good, but it was never true. It was painful and it was sarcastic; it was in my face and yet it was so obscure. But there is no wound that I can not bear. I can face such pain everyday, and day by day I shall triumph over it. Like Zarathustra I shall proclaim, “What doth it matter?” And I shall be happy with the earth and shall rejoice in the worship of the sunrise and be content with each sunset - ah! what life should I have then, if not one of forgiveness and acceptance and the will to live? What can broken hearts do against me? Who can show me greater pity that my pity for them? Who can break me?

But you did.

In Between Sheets

Sleep hasn't been kind to me these days. Well, life hasn’t been either. Three weeks ago my almost unforgettable existence has been a little more tolerable and I was openly enjoying the changes that have come into fruition, I felt compelled to be happy and basked on the newness and that crisp feeling that all is falling into places. 

Until you decided to show up again and ruin the almost perfect harmony of my life I was hell bent to create and straighten out.

You and I and the history that was us. You and your perennial habit of showing up when I am almost over you. To put it succinctly, you have this built in radar that goes bonkers whenever I have stopped making a room for your existence in my subconscious, that unwanted guest that occupied and overstayed in my heart, the phantom that hovers above me.

The three little words you left on my messenger was enough for me to hide for covers; but then again, we have this connection that even the harshest of past thrown words would send us into a state of amnesia. I have tried to look at the what-might-have-been and re-trace my steps on where we have stopped caring for each other and instead, we have seen each other as opponents on a battle we are doomed to lose. Admittedly, we have our rarest of happy moments, those were the times that see each other eye to eye, but more than often we crash into one another at high speeds and are proven fatal to this fragile thing we cannot say and  too afraid to label.

You knew that I am with someone now and so are you. Yet, I can sense that you have not yet moved on and keep on looking for similar grounds, parallel traits that would be endearing to you. You were vocal that you cannot feel anything, regardless of the freedom and the selection of nubile females that is yours for the taking. You still believed that we still have it and you are prepared to bring in the big guns to get me back. You know very well what I want, what I have always wanted and you have laid all your cards on the table, win or lose.

I listened to your subtle and saccharine induced words. When it did not make any effect, you throw it your threats laced with love so distorted only I can understand the gravity.  Rants and rage was our common denominator and you toss this to my direction, egging me to fight this off; my coldness and reserved has thrown you off guard yet challenged me as you only know how. You are right, you knew me like the back of your hand and you knew very well that you and you alone can make me submit.

I would lie in bed knowing that you are down in my parking lot on this unholy hour, looking at the dimly lighted window of my room. Your message urging me to see you for a brief moment sent me scrambling on my front door, yet I cannot find myself turning the key and unlocking this barrier that would send me straight to your arms. 

With downcast eyes and my head rested on the wooden door, I decided for the hundredth time that we cannot be involved in each other’s respective lives anymore. And you know why. We are the best and worst things we do to ourselves. So I am choosing between the rock and the hard place. And you don’t get to choose anything. 

The Effects

Insomnia is back with a vengeance. This has been a tough week, yet I cannot force myself to take a reprieve from the roller coaster ride I placed myself recently. I walked and talked and deal with everything with a sense of normalcy it is almost controlling. Nothing changed in the facade I am wearing, I guess I am pretty good at this. However, the dreams are haunting me, silent nightmares inhabit my nocturnes and it is by daybreak that I can find peace. I started to smoke more than the usual, and started to succumb in my dark days again. If only I could have the courage to popped several sleeping pills to put my mind and body to rest, I would have done that. I had the urge to submerged myself in the bathtub and hold my breath for as long as I can take it.

Last weekend, I was getting ready to hit my yoga class and I was brushing my teeth when my gums started to bleed. I washed my mouth several times but the bleeding continued. I push my fingers on the wounded area to stop the flow of blood, yet it did not. I was almost panicking, squeezing a towel in my mouth, yet it did not stop. I grew weak by the sight of blood and gore and I feel faint and I just lay on the bathroom tiles in a fetal position wishing to die to stop the bleeding.

Well, I am alive, and my yoga class was cancelled. I still can't sleep.

Blood on Satin

I don't know why I run here whenever I find myself despairing. This page became a sanctuary for the words long over due to be expressed; for the suppressed pent-up emotions I had bottled up for hours, days, weeks, months, even years. This is the sole place where I can rant and rave and shout until my lungs bleed, until my finger tips grew numb, until I ran out of tears. Too dramatic, albeit true.

But you must know there is much I don't tell. The worst of it stays unwritten, not out of any sense of propriety but because I don't want it here. Because I don't have the words to make it beautiful or... uglier. Because I don't want the reconstructed memory lumbering in my head.

The last year was a turbulent one for me. I played with fire thinking I will never get burned. I was arrogant with my self confidence but very naive on the inside. Until something happened that obliterated my senses and until now causing me to stare blankly into space and consumed my nocturnes with silent screams and nightmares.

I've untie the knots that binds me with my past as I declared in my recent posts. But so often when a binding is undone, the wound underneath is still gruesome and raw.