Sunday, August 26, 2007

A Chance to Love Again

I know I have carried on a negative perspective on romantic love these past days. However I realized this is madness. All is fair in love and war. And I can never win in a battle against Cupid.

Love, no matter how painful, is actually a beautiful thing. Ironic, isn't it? In the game of love, it doesn't really matter who won or who lost. The irony of love is knowing when to hold on (even if you want to give up) and when to let go (even if you still want to hold on).

Yet despite its irony, love .. or the hope of loving again survives. Afterall, it what makes the world go round. It is what colors the world. It is what gives music to the songs. Love is an essential part of life... It is part of nature.

I may have been hurt, battered, and bruised with love. But no matter how I try to escape it, I never can. And partly because I also refuse to be calloused and insensitive.

When you love, you become vulnerable. You give the other person your heart. And when you give, you also give him the power to break your heart but trusting him that he would not. Loving and knowing that you are going to get hurt is like living and knowing that you are going to die. But not loving so you won't get hurt is like killing yourself before you die.

To love is to risk rejections; to live is to risk dying, to hope is to risk failure. To reach for another is to risk involvement, to expose your feelings is to expose true self. But risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is risking nothing!

For all the heartaches and the tears, for the gloomy days and stormy nights, I am thankful for these were the moments which helped me grow. Instead of viewing my lovelorn past as a failure I am now looking at them as my teacher. Yes, I have learned a lot... and day by day I am finding my way back to love... one tiny step at a time.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Tears On My Pillow

I cried myself to sleep last night. I could not remember the last time I cried this hard. All I know that this is the first time I cried again for a guy after three years - after crying a river over my ex.

He is a special friend. Yes, we are just friends, but somehow both of us silently knew where it was heading. And so this unspoken understanding has brought us to set certain expectations with each other. But I have never realized how special indeed he is to me only after this whole friendship thing sort of got complicated. He has his issues. I have my issues.

What is so sad about this is that I have only come to see a different side of me for the first time. I never knew how I still carry the baggage of my past. I have gotten over my ex, but what I have not forgotten yet are the pain and the horrors it brought me – leaving me defensive and even paranoid.

If for any instance a certain feeling reminds me of my past (un-replied text, preoccupied mind, etc.), I shy away and hide behind a wall. What is more alarming though is that my thoughts now begin to wander and start to ponder if there could be someone else… another girl in his heart?

Scary!!! I am not like this before. What has happened to me? I have become a green-eyed ugly paranoid monster. Before, I used to be so open and trusting. Now, I am a hopeless case. Too hopeless that I want to give up. Down with romantic love!

I think I should start accepting a singular future. Because loving me would require extra patience, more strength, and a mega dose of determination. I need someone who could fight for me. Someone strong enough to break my wall; someone determined enough to calm my turbulent fears; and someone patient enough to help me through this journey. All in all, I just need someone who could hold my hand and pray with me, as I gain enough courage to find back my trust in love and in men.

And frankly speaking, I am not sure if such a man exists still? Using the general law of averages, most men shrivel at the sight of testing. They have stopped the pursuit. Is chivalry dead? Have they changed costumes from shining armors to tin foils?

All I wanted is for him to pursue me. Period.

I cried that he is not brave enough to help me in my battle against myself. I cried that he is not supportive enough to give me the reassurance I needed. I cried that I cannot also help him deal with his issues… I don’t know how. I cried because now that it’s all done and broken, there is no way of knowing if it can go back to the way things were. I cried for him. I cried for me. I cried for these and for so many other reasons.