I am an Ex

I AM AN EX
Now I have an idea why people make such a big deal about exes. Y'know... stuff like, getting over the ex. Dealing with the ex. Being friends with the ex. Being the ex.
I am an ex.
I know that it's stupid -- and silly -- to sound as if my whole life revolved around being somebody's ex-girlfriend.
But I can't help it...
That title packs a pretty strong punch. I am now an official member of the "loved-and-lost" club. And while it's a title I don't exactly want,
I have to admit that it does say some things about me. I am an ex. I once loved someone who loved me back. But he didn't want to stay...
So I had to let him go.
I cried. A lot. I spent countless nights wondering what went wrong,
muffling my sobs with my pillows so my parents wouldn't suspect
that something was amiss.
I'd reminisce about our happy times,
then break down when I'd realize that he was no longer mine.
I analyzed every single detail of our breakup.
I wrote long e-mails to my closest friends.
I talked endlessly about my situation.
I spent my nights in tearful telephone conversations and my days in daydreams
where we'd end up in each other's arms again.
Sometimes he was still my angel, still my knight in shining armor
who I'd do anything for just to have back.
But sometimes, I saw him as the devil incarnate
who broke my heart in the worst possible way,
and who deserved to be horsewhipped at the very least.
I told myself that it was all for the better.
That this was what was best for the both of us.
That this was God's plan.
My friends offered similar advice, none of which I hadn't heard before:
"It's a sign that you're not meant for each other,"
"When God closes a door, He opens a window," "Someone better is coming for you,"
"There are so many other fish in the sea," etc.
But it didn't work.
Because deep down, I still believed that he was the one, the only one.
And I couldn't understand how this was all for the better...
when every day seemed more torturous than the last...
not being able to be with him the way I wanted to be,
seeing him so unaffected, and dealing with my broken-and-smashed heart and my bruised ego.
I tried to immerse myself in other activities to forget about him.
I went out a lot.
I filled my schedule with movie marathons, shopping sprees etc.
It worked for a while...
but then there were times –
times when my mind was cleared of the busy thoughts I tried to occupy it with - that I would think of him.
His memory would sneak up to me on tiptoes, catching me in my most vulnerable moments.
I tried to show the world that I was OK.
That I was over him.
That it was fine just being friends.
I didn't go around with a big "X" on my forehead, nor did I go around with puffy eyes and a tissue box.
I tried to live my life as I knew it before I met him.
People thought that I was doing great. They heard me laugh and they saw me smile;
I seemed happy, they said; and I told myself that I was.
But in the solace of my room,
where I tried to organize my thoughts and sort out my feelings,
I had to admit to myself that I wasn't truly happy.
Because I was still yearning for someone,
and my heart still ached for something that could not be.
Surprisingly, things have gotten better.
I've changed.
Somewhere along the way,
I realized that he wasn't the only one out there for me.
I also realized that there were valid, powerful reasons why we split up.
And I've become stronger, older, wiser. He's changed as well –
when I look at him, sometimes I still see the boy I fell in love with.
Sometimes I think that he's the same person...
he still has the same goofy smile and mischievous charm that I fell for,
and I like to believe that the rest of him is unchanged as well.
But then I take a closer look and I realize that he HAS changed...
that I don't know him anymore,
not really... not enough to love and care for him as I once did.
I am an ex.
I've loved and lost.
I've cried tears for the things that were and that could have been.
I've wrestled with intense feelings of love and hate, of jealousy, of frustration. I've simultaneously taken down and brought up my pride.
I've tried to rebuild my world without the person
whom it used to revolve around.
I've tried to save myself from the depths of depression and self-pity,
and when I couldn't do that, I turned to God for help.
I don't know exactly what I gained, or how much I lost.
Maybe someday it will be all clear to me...
then again, maybe not.

Wasted

Sunday, April 23, 2006 I was supposed to start my day by attending Sunday service but I was too sleepy or should I say, lazy to get up. Probably the devil used my laziness to keep me away from the church, obviously he won me over. It was almost 7:00am when I finally doze off in my bed, I was sleeping deeply when loud knocks interrupted, it was the carpenter who’s going to fix my room, I forgot he told me about it yesterday. Since he’ll be working in my room I don’t have any choice but to leave or watch him work. Watching him work for a few minutes bored me to deathnot to mention my tired body was shouting for a good rest which made me really look awful, imagine a person whose been up for more than 12hrs watching over something that does not even interest her a bit. So to keep me awake I decided to eat my brunch, after my meal I stayed there watching tv, no not watching I was just staring for i could not even remember what was being shown. Then I went to the next level of cabins and ask someone if he’s going out, when he said yes, i decided to keep him company.

The day was turning out fine we ate in a Chinese buffet restaurant, then we headed our way to Gardens mall. The last few days I told myself to take saving money very seriously, but then again my reasons for spending weighs far more than my reasons for saving. I ended up spending more than a hundred dollar. Gee when it’s converted to peso I’ve spent five thousand pesos for a bedding set, shampoo, lunch , chocolates, fruits and water, sounds like a lot but in reality these are few.

Going back to Princess I was so excited to see my room with my new beddings in it, I went to the laundry to have it washed, never mind that I need to get immediate rest. Around 8:30 it was done , the cabin steward helped me put it, when he’s about to finish, he tease me about not drinking which I was fond of doing before. Probably my conceited self got the better of me so I said alright let’s drink, justifying it by saying “ala namang pasok bukas ng maga eh”, believing also that I could control myself. So we drink in my room together with sid, after an hour I went to check on my clothes in the laundry room , passing by crewmates who are also doing the same thing. I stayed a bit with them but rejected their “tagay “offer telling them that I’m also having a session. I can’t remember what time we were done, but I believe it was roughly 12:00am, they said goodbye and the minute they left my room I readied myself to sleep. Well I thought I’ll be sleeping, not long enough after they left someone was knocking then opened my door it was malu and dens, telling me how I cheated cause I ‘m in bed and they are still put there partying. In short I obliged myself to join them in the mess and drink more, until we decided to went upstairs and drink again.
I was so wasted, I felt my body weakens, my lungs slowing down and my throat burned.
Oh how I hated myself for doing it to myself, gulo noh but that’s how I felt afterwards.

The morning after was horrible I was awaken by the sound of the alarm signaling our weekly boat drill, everybody had seen how wasted I was, I did not even have time to wash and brush my teeth, I felt like shit. After boat drill I thought I’ll be able to sleep well I was wrong, dreamland evades me no matter what position I turned to, well at least my eyes are so heavy to open up, but my brains are working, I could hear sounds of the world I’m into.

Immigration started early, as usual instead of joining my group ( 3) I ended lining up in Group 4, reason? I was so tired to get up, I was not even able to dry my hair before going there. Well as if that was not enough, during my turn every time the camera shot my picture my eyes shot off as well, the immigration officer seems pissed because I did it twice. After that i did my routine at work.

I’m done with the reports now but instead of going to bed here I am stroking my keyboards. Crazy me!!!

By the way last Sunday (here) was our 6th month of being a couple (bf/gf), I just don’t know if he would still be glad to know how I celebrated it. I will definitely tell him or to lessen my burden email this post to him.

Want to guess what would his reactions be? Feel free ...