Yesterday I Cried. I Did.

Yesterday I Cried. I Did.

for all the things I had given, only to have them stolen;
for all the things I had asked for that had yet to show up;
for all the things I had accomplished,
only to give them away to people in circumstances,
which left me feeling empty, and battered and plain old used.

I cried because there really does come a time when the only thing left for me to do is cry.

Then the tears washed away obscure ideas, some bitterness, the feeling of mediocrity and being useless, frustrations and unmet expectations. My goals once again became clear. My thoughts more rational. My emotions stable. I have regained my feeling of self-worth. I am now more focused on what I want to achieve, how I want to achieve them. I no longer complain that I do not have enough time. I know all I have to do is give time.

The book Yesterday, I Cried is a gift from a dear friend who I finally gave time to meet up after 6 years of rescheduling. I told her that I could not progress with the book. I'm somehow stuck with the poem. Because every time I read the poem, I just want to savor all the unpleasant experiences in my life.

This morning as I was writing this entry, I opened the book once again. Turned to the last page of the book where she wrote a dedication:

                  Dear Roselle,


                               Just another tool for your life's journey.
                        This book clearly celebrates the many reasons
                        for living and loving joyfully -- but first, healing.

                                                                                Best,
                                                                                   Anne
                                                                                  7.Apr.11

Now I understand why I am not making any progress with this book and with my life. I am so consumed with hatred and pain. Somehow dwelling on them gives me a masochistic satisfaction. I am so entertained by the idea that I have some drama in life.

I must move on.
I must grow up.
But first, I need to heal.

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Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.

Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.

last april 17, we celebrated our 4th wedding anniversary. it's true that you don't recognize how swiftly time passes by if you are enjoying every moment of it. four years and we are still enjoying having the house all by ourselves. we do yearn to have a bundle of joy soon and create some chaos to our deafening silent house (haha!!).

i always get the same reaction from people whenever they get to know our love story. they would ask, "how long have you been together before deciding to get married?" with much pride, i'll tell them, " he became my boyfriend when i was 15. we got married when we were 27."

"amazing", is all they could utter.

"continuous?, how did you manage?"

and i'll say, " breaking up was never an option. issues are meant to be resolved."

one question that i always get and still do not know how to answer is, "how did you know that he is the one?"

i actually asked him how did he know that i am the one meant for him. he said, when he saw me, he saw me as the perfect person to be the mother of his children. haha! i don't know, is that something sweet? anyways, let me put it this way. he saw his future with me. now, that's sweet.

and in my case, how did i know it's him i should spend the rest of my life with?

hmm, i actually prayed to God that if ever He would let me in a relationship, i want to marry the first person i fall in love with. i must admit, i'm a hopeless romantic.

then i got a weird dream.

you see, we were in the same school since kinder but we were both unaware of each other's existence. it was only in junior high that we became classmates. we were not supposed to be classmates but due to divine intervention or my stubborness (i think it's the latter), i refused to sit on my original class section because i have no friends there. without the permission of the class advisers i insisted that i want to belong to the section where we ended as classmates. i still was unaware of his existence (i'm a snob!) until i dreamt of him.

in my dream, he was waiting for me by the door during dismissal. we were supposed to walk to the parking lot together.

i woke up asking myself why on earth i had that dream. and who was that guy?

then i noticed that this "guy" has been absent for a week. with lack of something worthy to do, i asked my friend who was in charge of attendance who the guy was, why he's been absent for almost a week, where he sits.

that got me aware that a certain lenin exists.

and that was the guy in my dream.

then he returned to class. found out he got sick. began to notice him.

and hate him.

why?

he's so good in class.

he's a rival.

and i'm no match.

he's way too good.

then i don't know what got into me, i transferred to a seat next to him. i stayed for a few minutes. he mentioned something funny, i laughed.

we've been sharing laughs since then. (and occasional fights)


june 29, 1992.

how many months since then?

lots.

more to come.

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You Treated Me Right And So Did He. It's The Dilemna I Face In The Game Of Three

You Treated Me Right And So Did He. It's The Dilemna I Face In The Game Of Three

You were my first.

I was feeling a little foolish then and was with so much curiosity. I must admit I was kinda nervous at first because I do not know if this will ever work out.

But you were just perfect for me.

It felt like we have known each other for ages. I need not find my way around. You showed me the way in a manner that seemed like I have known where every path will take me.

You offered me your pages, and I filled them with my innermost thoughts. You know my darkest secret, my deepest fear, my cuts that won't heal. We shared my happiest moment, my triumphs, my fall.

I have met others along the way. Not that I have intentionally searched for somebody else to take your place. They seem to offer me something I have been looking for. Although I am not really sure what I am looking for. Some were able to lure me. Fooled me many times. But I always find myself returning to my first love. Realizing that I still yearn for you.

Then I met him. 

He was everything you are and more. I found myself trying to be with you as often as I am with him. But as days passed by, I know I am pouring out more of myself to him than with you. At times, I would tell myself that in a few months I'll grow tired of him and I'll be running back to your welcoming embrace. Like I always did.

He is passion. You are love. 

I do not want to give either up. But the rain of guilt is pouring down on me. It's flooding in and I could barely breath.

You must know by now though no one has told you.

I am falling too far.

I am falling too deep.

Soon, I will leave.

(a farewell to my tabulas. and you.)

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