rather be

I would rather be hurting and be with you

than smiling and empty, and without you.

desire

I spent most of the day with a guy I think I may learn to really like.  But more often, he disappoints me.

He washes the sheets after we have sex, he is inattentive, he does not want me.

He is good, and kind, and sweet in a lot of ways, but I want him to desire me.  I long for what I had with J because he could never refuse me.  He always wanted me.  He desired me.  He made me feel beautiful and wanted, he was my best friend and my lover.  He looked at me with fire in his eyes, and he was always wanting to touch me and kiss me…

I know that it’s not fair to compare one boy from another, but I cannot help it.  I still love J so much, that after spending half my day with S having sex, I still find myself thinking about J.  I keep comparing him to J, how much better looking, how much more experienced, how much more intelligent…  especially how much more J wanted me.

I yearn to be wanted and desired.  And I don’t think S will ever desire me.

rampage of loss

It has been more than a month since we parted ways.  We have decided to still be friends, though.  I often talk to him online, and he has been depressed lately.  His depression affects me.  Though I don’t see him, knowing that he’s sad and disturbed troubles me.  I would rather see him happy and unaffected than know that he is hurting.  If only I can reach our and take his pain away with own hands… I will.

But I cannot see him.  The physicality of it all will simply hurt me.  Knowing that I can never hold him and kiss him the way I used to is like having a knife tear through my chest.  Why is it so painful?

I am doing my best to try and forget him.  I went on date, a drinking rampage… kissed a girl, kissed a guy.  But I came back home weeping.  All I can think of is him.  All I want is have him hold me close, in his arms.  I still cry… but not like I used to, with sobs and a heaving chest.  Now the crying has turned to short, tearful memories.  Oh how I love him.

I wished to learn how to love… and now I have.  I just didn’t think it would hurt so much.  But I can’t even ask God to take it all away.

not expecting

i thought that i could give without expecting anything back.  maybe i could.

but it’s so difficult and it hurts so much i could hardly breathe.

i think i am close to being obsessive, and it scares me.  and i keep on reminding myself that this feeling cannot be reciprocated.  i have no right to demand for anything, i’m practically a beggar waiting for scraps.  i wait for scraps of his time, his attention, his affection… i cannot have anything for myself from him.  all i can have is this illusion that he cares about me, enough to think about me every now and then…

i didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

i look at my celphone every few minutes waiting for a message from him, or a call from him… an e-mail, and IM.  how can he make me fall and leave me hanging?

i hurt so much right now i could hardly breathe.

i have to remind myself constantly to NEVER EXPECT ANYTHING BACK.

insecure

every night, since i forgot when, either him or me would send a message saying “boa noite…” every night, since i don’t know when. but last night he didn’t send me one. i couldn’t send him one either. his phone had been cut off. i don’t know what happened. i reassure myself that he has a valid reason. maybe he forgot to pay his bill, changed his provider… but i can’t help but feel paranoid. we have sex in the morning and then he forgets to tell me his new number???

do i sound jealous and insecure? yes i am. i hate to admit it.

happy valentines day.

being selfish

i am so sorry.  i could be the reason why you are feeling so terrible about yourself.

and i know you want to let me go.  but i can’t let you.  i won’t let you.  not yet… i can’t.  i am feeling so torn and so guilty and there’s this dull pain inside me.  let me be selfish for once…

im looking for someone or something to blame… fate, or destiny… for letting our paths cross, our eyes meet, for making the conversations so good and right, for making it all feel like its the right thing to do.

hurting

friends are supposed to uplift you and be there for you when you need them.  But she makes me feel so rotten, so despondent, so insecure about myself.

what she said last night.. “and look who she ended up with, and he’s not even brad pitt.”

wow.  that hurt.

she had never been careful with her words.  i have always tried to be patient, and to take things lightly with her because i know that she probably meant no harm.  but how can she hurt me again and again… and even though i heal, it gets tiring.  so maybe i shouldnt see her at all.  but i think that she needs me more than i need her.  she doesnt have anyone else to lean on.  we swore to be there for each other because we’re best friends.

but she’s acid.  she makes a mockery out of my agony.

she knows how much i agonized over my quasi-relationship with j.  she knows how guilty i felt, how terribly wrong, and how much psychological torture i went through with it.  and to mock it like that was utterly unbelievable and insensitive.  no wonder her own people avoid her.  i must be stupid for sticking by her side.  how long have i been blind to her… now i know that she had been the source of my pain.

it hurts.  especially when she’s supposed to be your bestfriend.

third time is the charm

we had mad sex last night. it felt wonderful. it felt right. it was amazing.

he had been treating me as if i could break for the first two times. he was always careful, and so eager to please. then last night we went all the way. i invited him for coffee, he went back to his place, i went back to mine. i asked im if he wanted to hook up tomorrow. he okayed, but i wasn’t sure he understood, so i sent him another message if he got what i wanted to say. coyness does bot work on men. i was hungry so i bought a chicken sandwich at the convenience store. he agreed to to do it, so i went to his place.

he was fast and hard. i was breathless. it didn’t hurt like the last two times. but i bled, like it was my first, and i felt embarrassed about ruining his sheets. he just laughed it off. like always, we talked and joked in between gasps and kisses. his smell clung to me and i held him close. i was eager to please as much as he had pleased me.

and when i was pretending to sleep… he kissed my lips. he caressed my hair. he touched my shoulders.

i was a little afraid. maybe he’s getting to like me.

i left his apartment at two in the afternoon. we had been together for more that ten hours.

sometimes, i can’t help but wish he were mine instead of somebody else’s.

of men.

i confess. i have been sleeping with a married man. i don’t remember how it came to be. being in foreign country away from everything may have been the reason… but who knows?

he is almost everything i want in a guy; good-looking, charming, witty and funny. he’s the first guy i’ve ever slept with, but we laugh and talk and even for the first time, i was never uncomfortable. he’s amazing and sensitive, and gentle. but he has a touch of stubbornness and a slightly irritating confidence. yes. i know he is married, i know that he has kids. that was never a secret.

i just hate it that when i finally met a guy i know that i can finally fall in love with and really get along with, the fates turn against me and hence, he is married. he has been for ten years.

and the boy before him, the one with twinkling eyes and a sweet, shy smile… i’ve never even kissed.

careless.

time

everybody is too busy.  too busy rushing about and doing things.  too busy to care, to sit down and talk.  too busy for small things.

i miss the times when my friends had the time to sit down on the grass until sunset.  i miss the times where i can call up someone for a quick break to eat ice cream.  i miss the times where we’d go on for half an hour looking for an open coffee place.  i miss the times where people just had time.  now i look at my friends and count the number of minutes that i can spend with them before they rush out and do something else.

i miss the slow, languid days when people had time for friendships and relationships.