It Could Be

Friday, August 11, 2017 Comments Off

It was: rainy breezy afternoon, messy charcoal linen bedsheet, music softly playing from the record player, lacy panties under worn undershirt.

It was: skin pressed on skin, sighing in contentment was the norm here, vulnerability was treated with amity, diligently rememorizing every expanse with kindness and zero objectivity.

It was: late breakfast with poached eggs on toasts, holding a body whose eyes were the colour of black tea steeped for too long, greedily devouring each others' fear.

It was: unscheduled visit from the neighbor carrying extra apple pie, ignored emails and messages, competitive board game matches, drinking honeyed tea from floral teacup sets.

It was: heating up last night food, arguing over fictional characters, cleaning up the bathroom with lemon-scented supply.

It was: impossibility, rearranged.

A Letter to Stranger: Twee

Tuesday, July 18, 2017 Comments Off

Dear Almost Love,

My office installed a fossball table today and it reminded me of you. I remembered the day you taught me how to play the game, how I failed to score every time and how patient you were to me. It was a simple thing, really, yet I can't forget how you did not ridicule me or dismiss me for being inadequate. To tell you the truth, maybe this is what I've been looking for—this particular thing that some other people are lack of, it's how easily you see me as someone complete though inexperienced. It's funny how I still compare other people to you in the way how you treat me. Is it wrong if I say that I miss it?

Although, I must say, there is this one guy. Perhaps, if you can recall, I have talked about him to you before, almost a year and half ago. Funny how time went by so fast and yet my feelings are still the same, if not more amplified due to certain moments that happened few months ago. What's more is the fact that I even call him your successor in terms of his inability to commit with me, either long term or short term. I don't know whether or not you'd get along with someone like him, but what I can tell you about him is that he can be unbeatably nice when he wants to. His particular type of kindness is exactly what I need—but it only comes sporadically, only whenever he feels like it, the other time, it would feel like he is the coldest, the most insufferable person of them all. He can be so intimately caring, yet he can also act like we have never known each other before. It is not fair to compare him to you, but he cannot be as continuously kind as you.  Also, unlike you, he has given me a few things that you've never been able to achieve. In this regard, he wins, though this is not the positive sort.

Of course, you know me well enough to understand my love for solving puzzling mysteries and knowing intimate details of someone. I want to unravel him, to get to know him further—I want to be the only one who are shared more private, intimate things by him. Obviously, such is dreams.

I know, believe me I know, that it's not healthy to be in this way—to be in the shorter end of the stick where I have to make more effort of the chasing and caring. I know that it is counterproductive to achieving complete self-love and self-respect, a couple of things that I have bragged about recently. But, I do not know which one to blame, my stubborn heart or curious mind?

I will update you more once I have any monumental change between my interaction with him, though I highly doubt it.

I hope everything is well with you, wherever you are.

Sincerely,
The one who could have grown old with you

Anything Less

Sunday, July 16, 2017 Comments Off

I would like to start off this post by being grateful for all the things that have happened to me so far—be it decidedly good or bad.

I realized so much have happened to me in the course of six months that had me gasping for understanding, patience, and, mostly, space. Everything that I experienced has been overwhelmingly eventful to the point of me not being able to actually pause and breathe in; a pastime that unfortunately I have taken for granted. I won't talk about the events in great details because some of them involve certain individuals. I will, however, talk about the lessons I have learned for the past months.

Because of these events, I came to a conclusion that self-love is important for positively sustaining yourself against the verbal and non-verbal injuries the world has brewed up for you; however, that is not to say that self-love alone is good enough. I found that self-respect should go hand-in-hand with self-love. Though, I would say, acquiring self-respect is a lot harder than self-love.

Personally, self-love is easier to obtain because it involves feelings that we have been exposed to since young age. Self-love is more organic, more chemical than factual. Its only requirement is unwavering faith and constant support. But, self-respect is different. It is quite harder to achieve due to the nature of its pragmatic demand. Self-respect could only be gained if we are up to our own standards, refusing to indulge in a standard lower than what we expect ourselves to have. Perhaps, this is what I have gained this year.

The journey of gaining it is particularly hard. It is one that I have been in for years, but most of it was not deliberate effort because I did not know that self-respect is one of the things that I have been looking for. A lot of things were involved in this so-called journey—blood, sweat, and tears were the least extreme things that I had to expend. Hard as it is to gain, I've never been more grateful for its timing. I receive it during the time when I truly need it the most. It is something to justify myself to get out of toxic relationships. Self-respect has forced me to improve certain conditions in my life. It has taught me to move myself from situations where people do not give me any appreciation for the potentials that I carry within me or the things that I did in the past; this includes personal, professional, and even, surprisingly, romantic aspects.

Thanks to my newly-minted self-respect, I learned a few other things because it made me assess everything that I have experiences so far. The biggest learning point is how I could use self-respect as a base to assess circumstances in my life—examining them if they are up to the standards in which I deserve.  Self-respect helps me pragmatically assess whether or not I am in an unbeneficial relationship or unsupportive environment. This is not saying I do not put any sentimental value as a factor on anything that I examine, but self-respect puts things into perspectives in ways which self-love hasn't been able to do.

The first big thing that I analyze was of course the relationship that I have with myself. I should be treating myself better without overly indulging my every whims. Previously when I look at the relationship that I have on myself based on self-love, I keep on overindulging because I felt that I deserve more. But with self-respect, I have to truly ponder over decisions whether they are beneficial to me or not; beneficial in terms of mental, physical, and emotional health. I want to treat myself in the same ways that I have foolishly treated some people in my life. I understand now that my priority is the betterment of myself by improving in positive ways and losing all the negative aspects that do not give me any continuous upside. The latter one is the hardest one, I am still learning how to let things go even though my head and my heart know these things are not good for me.

By knowing my worth and treating myself with respect, I understand now what I need from someone (or anyone, really) is abundance of patience, understanding, indulgence, respect, affection, and attention. I realize I should not settle in anything less.

You: Burnt-Orange

Monday, May 15, 2017 Comments Off

You pointed at the burnt-orange building, "That was it, that was the place where I first loved."

I almost cried at that, here I was so focused on imagining our lives intertwined together that I forgot the fact that your life had been tangled in a mess that I do not wish to unravel. I had momentarily forgotten that you had already had your own share of envisioning a shared life with someone else, someone that you could love, someone that you did love.
I did not dare to ask if that building was the first place where you fell in love, or made love to, or even being told that you were loved. I couldn't bring myself to inquire because I knew whatever the answer that would come out of your mouth wouldn't make me happy in any way.
So I stayed silent, inactively persuading you to continue to tell more of your stories in order to be awed by the history of you. For the most part, I wanted to hear how you led your life, especially since you had almost a decade ahead of me.
You rambled on, decidedly not explaining further about the history behind that burnt-orange building. And I had never been masochist enough to ask further. I had already been crushed by the realization that I could never ignite that same passion when you pointed at that burnt-orange building, I could never inspire feelings so strong that you could condemn and worship a building in the same breath.

Collection of Recollection, Part IX

Sunday, April 9, 2017 Comments Off

you don't
worth the weight
you have on me
measurement

do soulmates
have
an expiry date?
time limit

they say
you don't meet people
by accident,
then meeting you
must have been
a predestined scheme,
something that even
the universe has conspired.
or perhaps,
it's just our atoms
calling out to find their kin
lies

all these
imaginary scenarios,
of us existing together
with each other
for each other,
where do they live
when reality rejects them?
unlisted location

maybe this is what
we want from
each other:
affirmation
that we are not
as harsh, as intolerable,
as difficult, as impossible,
as cumbersome, as unlovable
as we thought we both are
confirmation

I am addicted to
the way you made me feel;
how you claim
our intimacy,
our connection,
our closeness
as something valuable
personal achievement

it feels like
your soul
trying to
claw its way
out of your skin,
out of life,
out of reality
anxiety and heartbreak

I am collection of:
passion,
need,
want,
longing,
and questions;
all for you
fullness

where does
romance go
when it is not
realized?
directionless

what's the
aftermath
of an almost?
a question mark

the saddest part
about us not happening
is the fact that
we can never be
each other's support system,
even though
we, desperately,
can
and need one
despair

Side Note

Sunday, April 2, 2017 Comments Off

Dear Hofstadter,
We are a side note: something you'd put at the end of each of our biographies. An afterthought. It is there as an additional something to make the story more colourful, to make both of us more relatable; because, well, who would want to be misunderstood? Who wouldn't want to find a passing soul as their mirror?

But that's all we could ever be: a passing. Not something that settles, not something that rests, not something that stays. Only a passing moment in between both of our orbits, both of us blooming and blossoming into spectacular comets. In this vast cosmos, our chance to collide is slimmer than none. Perhaps we are better if we weren't to collide, well, at least that's what I've been trying to convince myself. 

I used to think that we are better off in a safe distance, where both of our own gravity keep us apart but close at the same time; but it would only hurt me. I could have gone off on another path, discovering everything that is to know about the universe while making you just a temporary pit stop. A pit stop which mimics my non-physical attributes; though the big difference between you and me is the fact that I'd crash into your course anytime, yet you try to manage a distance between us in order to keep yourself safe. But, being safe from collision, consequently from explosion, also means that you'd be safe from the bang, from the brightness that could envelop us, and from the fire that could consume us.

There are a lot of things that we could have said to each other. A list full of dismantled truths and kind intentions. We deserve honesty from each other by disclosing our wants, needs, fears, and anxieties.

Maybe all that we could ever be is a casket full of longing and an urn full of what-if scenarios.

Real side note: everyone wants us to explode. Can't you hear them humming around us?

Warmest regards,
Your faithful mirror.

Collection of Recollection, Part VIII: Inebriated 2.0

Monday, March 27, 2017 Comments Off

these pieces were written in order for me to be able to completely flush you out of my system.
it worked.

the first time you kissed me, it was a hurried kiss--as if you were afraid if you didn't consume the moment, everything that we had done up to that point would disappear and we had to start all over again.
the time after that, it was all soft and forgiving. you allowed yourself to be vulnerable in front of me. the best kindness that you had given me that day. 
my expectation for the third kiss was that it would be like me riding a bike for the first time, with training wheels attached. a learning moment for me, but perhaps for you it wouldn't necessarily be, and you would require more patience and understanding than what you have generously given me before.
while the kisses after that wouldn't be able to be counted since, by default, the excitement would recede and sexual intimacy would increase. these kisses would be different, and from each one I'd learn new things.
and there would be a type of kiss that we both would hate. the type that would end it all, whatever it is.
but your kisses—your mercy—only worked for one night
and now, all I could ever hope to receive from you is understanding, giving up our sense of intimacy and kindly retaining your distance.
one merciful night, nothing more

even with my mind,
all lust-clouded
intoxicated;
I always knew,
just like you,
that bottle of wine
was never mine
(un)possessing

you do not want brutal things—
like falling in love,
clinging your soul to mine,
or maybe needing me,
yet you are giving me
the most ruthless
of them all:
a glimpse of something great
that could only exist in
both of our wanting eyes
and our needing minds
collecting your empty promises

maybe this is how
it feels like to have
your soul caressed,
your mind rested, and
your figure taken care of.
maybe this is what
it feels like to have
someone at my disposal
heeding all of
my wants and needs.
this is how it feels
to have this
temporary thing,
something that
life has deprived me of
our non-date

stealing you for a night,
wishing you were mine to hold tight,
drowning out noises in my head,
collecting enough of your stories to be read,
wanting to be drown in it,
knowing that you wouldn't submit to colliding our orbit,
being unapologetic for asking what I wanted,
accepting the fact I'd always be haunted.
— disassembling

by blurring the lines
between nothing
and something,
you've taught me
something entirely new;
something I hadn't thought
I'd get from you:
loneliness borne
out of learning that
both of us has
the ability to connect
without necessarily
establishing the connection
almost

thanks to you,
I'm inspired to write more:
more heartbreaks,
more almosts,
more unfinished tales,
more what ifs,
though they're nothing new
 history

well... almost.
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