Of broken hearts and torn up letters.


With enlistment looming in the imminent future(what an oxymoron), I find myself sleeping earlier(or later) but waking up much earlier than before. A sure sign of that is I actually have mornings now. A quick calculation indicates that I have 3 mornings left. How endearing. However, that is not on my agenda today. Something else is.

Mornings, just like nights, had always been the grounds for me to think. Since Secondary School, on those long and boring rides to Maris Stella, I found myself thinking quite a bit. For the record, thinking to me encompasses real deep thought(like what I want to eat for lunch, love and how to not screw up History lesson), imagination(like having superpowers), planning ahead and so on and so forth. Having gotten my mornings back, I found myself, once again, thinking again. The only difference is, instead of thinking, I actually decided to pen my thoughts down. No prizes for what's hovering in my mind nowadays.

Having not held a pen for the past months, the tool felt extremely foreign in my hands. It was gripped at an awkward angle. And it strangely felt much lighter than before. Could it be that I am now shed of the academic baggage and expectations that I was once carrying? Or maybe(rather corny) memories of her are no longer in my hands?

I sometimes wonder how many romantic failures the average man must experience before he finally breaks and throws in the towel. It's like a balloon with air(failure) being pumped into it. How many pumps before the balloon pops? Well, I called it quits at round 3. And as many before me had said, this one is the most heart-wrenching.

To be brutally frank, to be simply taken as "my best guy friend" is really quite damning. Optimistically speaking, I can take heart in the fact that the woman I love treasures the thing between us. That is, whatever this thing she is referring is not what I had in mind and heart. I guess it's even worse when I'm not exactly the person who should be described as sanguine. You see, this is what I had planned initially. We would go for walks. She can bring her dog(preferably her cat) and I will bring my iPod(if it were still working). I like morning walks and she is the morning person. It would work splendidly. We both love to read despite differing tastes. I love the hardcore thriller versions or articles relating to Science and Mathematics while she prefers the Literature kinds. But still, it grants us opportunities to just sit on the couch and drink coffee and just...I don't know, stay together. I've never told her or anyone this(except maybe now to you reader), but sometimes, I just like being around with her. I like the night more but hate the Moon for it stands for loneliness. She likes the Moon but whatever; I will like what she likes. She probably hates me for that cause she likes tough men and not whimpy ones like me who try to make the woman he loves happy. I guess nobody's ever right in such things. I know I am wrong for the simple fact I failed. Okay, that sad mopping aside.

Continuing from where I left off, to tell you the truth, the form of rejection I received is analogous to receiving a second prize-first place loser.

I reckon she is probably new to this relationship business. I also foresee she will have many more encounters in the future(maybe rejecting more guys or, sad to say, even accepting the ONE). But still, not a shabby start I'd say for a rejection solidly boosts one's self-confidence. Albeit it crushes the other(mine). So there is actually a real deal of equivalent exchange in this world. Eat that economists. But the hopeless romantic within me is still glad. Why you say? Because at least she's happy right now. And because she's never ever going to read this. Thankfully.

Sometimes at night I wonder and even hope that this story of mine will have a happy ending. Kind of like what happened to a particular friend who suddenly developed feelings for the guy who carried the torch for her for 4 years or so. Personally I wouldn't mind carrying the torch for 4 years. The coming 2 years are already in the bag anyhow. And I highly doubt if I can find love in University when I have failed in Secondary School and Junior College. If you are wondering why this sounds rather defeatist, perhaps you are right. An acquaintance once mentioned that if you believe in something hard enough and have faith, it will come true. Does it really? I really want to believe and have faith(damn I am overflowing with faith even), but then at what costs? At what costs to her or even...selfishly speaking..to me?

I don't know what to do now except lie. Lie and put on a happy face as best as I could in front of her and pretend everything is okay when it's not. It never was okay. Lie and say "Oh, I'm tired and just didn't feel like talking" when I was actually dying to speak to you but words just escape me. And I'm sure it escaped you too that day. Escape. Yeah, I need some of that right now.