lilfuzz6

Hi all!

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Best,
-Maria

For the longest time I thought I was in love. I always thought he was my first love and in the end I found out indeed I've been hurt and lied to. Whatever comfort I sought in his lies were eventually broken away with maturity and age. Putting myself in his shoes and being able to understand his position has its pluses and minuses. I now know how much effort and how hard it must have been for him to keep everything together and I respected him for that. But seeing things from his perspective also spoke truths behind his lies, and made clear of my own naivete.

White lies can hurt. Maybe he lied to keep us together, maybe he lied for my sake, whatever I don't know can't hurt me right? But white lies pile up and to a certain point, they become unforgivable. A string of lies can spin itself into a web of manipulation and that's exactly how I feel looking back on it all, manipulated.

I've been wanting to avoid thinking about it for the longest time. I always believed I had the upperhand in most situations, that I was in control and incapable of letting feelings get to me. Perhaps it was also the fact that everything about him and about what we had seemed too magical to be corrupt, too pristine to be tainted. That 'first' boyfriend status needed to stay holy and sacred, the branded impression of the 'first' in my memories HAD to be a perfect fairytale one, because if it was anything else, that would've meant I failed. Why do I try so hard to achieve perfection knowing that it's impossible?

I have to admit that I really do miss those days even if they were not quite what they seem. I also admit no one else has been able to make me feel the way he made me feel. I miss having conversations about nothing for hours on end, never running out of things to say. I miss familiarity, even routineness could be happiness. I miss having someone to miss.  At the same time, I'm constantly afraid that I will never have that back, that feeling only a 'first' could deliver. Still, I have been given hope, it is frail, but as strong as ever.

I still don't know what love is. I was in love with the idea of us, the idea of him. By all means, I tried to guard that idea, I tried to freeze it and frame it, I tried so hard that I ignored all the scratches on the surface and looked right through them, at a picture seemly perfect. Or it could be the opposite. Maybe I loved him so much I trusted whatever he told me even if I knew better. I wanted to believe him because I loved him. Yet, how could it be love for one to stay so guarded? Why did I feel the need to keep score or gain the upper hand? To me, true love is something that can make me ignore all that, falling in love means unconditional, selfless love. What I felt was far from that, it was anything BUT self-less.  But is it REALLY possible to forget about oneself and love someone else like that? Enough to let them go?

I guess only time will tell. It's kind of funny to think after all these years, I'm finally writing an entry that will give me closure. I'm finally closing the book on that one chapter of my life that I've overlooked and tried to ignore for so long. I don't even know what empowered me to think about all this, I guess I've just come to terms with myself and what really happened. There are some things you can forgive that you can't forget. I have forgiven a long time ago, and tried countless times to forget.

Nevertheless, I'm ok with not forgetting. It just makes things hard because I have lost so much respect for this person I was once so close to. I've also tried, on several attempts to at least save our friendship for the sake of friendship. He may have tried for different reasons, mainly out of guilt I speculate. But everytime I remember, I lose respect for him all over again and it's just so hard. It also just so happens everytime we interact, something will always make me remember. Like I said, I wish I could forgive AND forget, the latter seems impossible. I have finally come to the conclusion that it's not worth trying and I'm sick of trying. I'm only human after all.

So that's that. End of story. Chapter closed. I wish you could have stayed in my mind much more as you are now, but you've reduced yourself to much less than I've hoped. Good luck and good bye. May you live forever.

-Maria

It's about that time, that feeling is creeping up again. Very rarely, there comes this time when I feel like everything I've done so far accounts to nothing. Everything I stand for, everything I've worked for, the very existance of my being starts to crack and crumble. No matter how hard I try, how strong I believe I am, there's the realization that after all, I am just a girl, one that is vulnerable and by no means, invincible.

When I feel like I'm squeezing minutes out of a day just to have a break and that there are so much to do it becomes unbearable, maybe, just maybe, my efforts doesn't matter. After all, success isn't measured by effort. When there is no success, no one's going to commend you on making your best efforts. Perhaps, it's time I realize that making efforts just aren't good enough. My efforts may be all that I have, it may be all that I can muster up at this point, and while actually being able to make them may mean a lot to me or take a toll on me, to others, it's as good as nothing.

It doesn't matter that I didn't ask for these obligations. It doesn't matter that I don't want any part in what I'm already part of. All that counts is that I'm here and I'm stuck in a position with a responsibility that I'm expected to shoulder. Just handle it right? Just handle it, how long am I going to keep telling myself that before I crash and burn? How long am I going to lie to myself that everything's going to be alright before I drown in others' contempt and criticism.

Chin up and smile through it all. I wish I could say that it's as easy as it sounds, but it isn't. I wish I was as strong as I thought I was, but I'm not. I can't even muster up the courage and admit to myself that I am struggling. I can't even cry without watching a sappy movie to use that as an excuse. Crying is for the weak, but at this point, it has never sounded so appealing. I want the world to disappear before me, and I want to be able to create my own sorrows and soak them up alone.

On the other hand, this might be pleasing news to some. For you who wish to see me fail, waiting to kick me while I'm down with a huge grin on your face, I warn you. For you, who might have had a hand in bringing out the darker side of me, it may be the result of your ignorance that's taught me what it's truly like to deeply despise someone from my bones. For you, who wish to break down the very pillars which lend me support, do not mistaken my kindness for weakness. I will have no sympathy and tolerance for you, and I will prove you wrong even if it crushes me.