This...

I am unhappy and I don't know why. I have a life that many would wish for-a full time job, a nice home, i travel, i socialize, opportunities, people i love and people that love me. Yet, i find myself at the end of the night just simply stuck. I get angry so easily with people that are good to me and i am so damn forgiving to someone who doesn't give a shit about me. I live in a large room with a full size bed, 14 hangers, 2 large duffle bags (one being used as my laundry basket), and a box of "stuff". I wake up every morning, waiting. Waiting for my next move. Waiting for the right time. Waiting for the next chapter. Responsibilities suck and i dream of dropping everything and leave. And then the alarm rings at 7:50 every morning to snap me back to reality that this is what I am bounded to do. This is it. For now, this is it.

This, is not enough.

Juxtapo-situation

This weekend he asked me, whatever happened with you two. I didn't know how to answer. these questions always catches me off quard even when i expect it. and to be honest, i never know how to answer. "how are YOU", "where is she?". "whatever happened?" ...simple loaded questions-what a juxtopo-situation (whoah, © that shiet). Questions I never know how to unravel and ends up brushing off with "she's busy" "we're friends" "i'm great". Damn I'm a good liar. Because she's not busy. She's not here because I didn't ask her. We're not friends. We may be trying to be friends but we will never be the friend we use to be. The closest we could ever be is ex...intimate mind body and soul who relearns how to exists in the same space as ex-intimate people. And I am not great. Not when it comes to her. Because I am still laying in bed at 1am thinking about how I can answer those 3 simple loaded questions in 30 seconds in a way that I can be more true to myself and my friends about where she's at, what happened to us, and how i am.

9

9 months went by so fast. yet some times i feel like I'm at the same place I was 9 months ago. because she still interrupts the melodies that puts me to sleep. still creeps into my subconsciousness and slaps me so hard i came back to reality, but only to realize that the only difference between my dreams and reality is how long the pain lasts.

i reflect a lot. useless. ALL the damn time. why think about things we can't change. why reevaluate the woulda shoulda coulda when really, you're just where you are and you can't go back neither can you forward to the future. shit happens. ctrl-z only exists on your keyboard.

and so i think about how in my last relationshit, i spent so much time trying to fit in this power dynamics of a relationship. so much that i lost all of my self a long the way and never expressed my feelings organically. why was it so damn hard for me to tell her i smirked because she looked SO damn fine. why do i cry to myself and can never show her with those tears of how much everything meant to me. why couldn't i say those 3 simple words out loud but only whispered silently in my heart. and so i spent so much time playing in this game of who can have more power by being possessive, by forcing myself to fit into what it means to be this person she was looking for when i coulda just been me. and i could never just simply stop, and just let the moment take its course because i just couldn't stop thinking about tomorrow. what about tomorrow. is she still gonna be here. how can i keep her here. why? why do i do that? why did i think about that. why i couldn't just continued being the awesome person that i am. would that have made a difference in how i felt during those 7 months. damn she was my kryptonite. tryin' to hold on to the game that was a losing game from the start. and here i am. reflecting. when 9 months ago will still be 9 months ago and tomorrow is going to still be...just tomorrow.

Reminded

Last night I am reminded, of the times when she would lay her head on my shoulder with her legs wrapped tightly around mine, her hand across my chest, her head snuggled in my neck. Like 2 puzzles of perfect fit. I would hold her in my arms and think to myself how this, was the moment of perfect bliss. Moments where my heart beated loudly with the urge to utter the words "I love you", but instead I lay there in silence, never having the nerve to say such words out loud.

The heart is a complicated muscle.

Why can't I learn how to think with other organs in my body beside my heart.

Yes, it still suck.

She was right. It sucks. She said hi, and bye. Then i decided to hug her bye. I had intended to talk to her. Ask her how she's doing, when she has to move, what she's been up to, when does she start school, how's her handling not being around her mom and sister. But no words. came out of my mouth the whole night. And so we both occupied ourselves with other people and didn't look at each other. I wanted to tell her when we said bye that it was nice seeing her and that she looked good. I couldn't even do that. And so i've been sitting here moping around. Realizing that it's not my place anymore. When i overheard her convo about moving out, not knowing where to live, who to live with. I wanted to tell her i have a friend moving up in couple of weeks who needs an apt mate around her school, or tell her the price range in berkeley, but i had to refrain...because it's not my place anymore to support her. Yet I yearn, to care, to love, to be there. And so i stop ease dropping and tune her out.

Fuck. I still care. I still love. It's not over. When is it gonna be over.

What is love?

i love her…

…and so i’m afraid to lose her. but i will not lose her because of that. i will not hold back. if i lose her, it will be because i’ve done everything i could and it simply wasn’t enough.

i love her…

…even when it hurts. even when i can’t see her enough, when i am afraid she’ll forget me, when i’m afraid it’s easier not to, when i’m afraid it won’t matter or that it never did.

Courtesy of http://iloveherellipsis.tumblr.com/

What is love? Is it the little notes that I leave her? Is it the clothes that I pack for her? The outfits that I chose? The heartache that comes from watching her love someone else, but still I stay to be there for her? Is it the synchronized sequence of our heart beat as they exchange through the touch of our bodies? Is it the pastries she would save me after a work event? Is it the non-exclusive, yet, not so random kisses? Is it her pair of pajamas on my dresser, her tooth brush in my sink, her soap in my bathtub? Is it the every little things that mattered or the little things that didn't matter?

What is love? Who knows.