Skip to main content

Hurting

I wish my heart were cheap. So when I give it away and it comes back all beaten, bruised, and broken, it wouldn't hurt so much.

And all I did was to try my best to love her.

Is that the way relationships go? That commitments and promises are only as good as long as things are going well?

I might refuse to believe that, but that's only me, I guess. It was always only me. I guess it still is, and will always be. Leave it to me to be the hopeless, not to mention pathetic, romantic that I am.

It's my fault. It always is, somehow. Even if - for the sake of arguement - it wasn't, it makes no difference. Better to blame myself rather than point fingers at people who've already started walking away. And there's the saying, "it takes two to tango," so I'm sure that I must've stepped on quite a number of toes in that dance. It doesn't matter that I have more than a few sore toes myself, but as I said, there's no point impugning someone who's already left the dance, the dance floor, the building, the city, and probably the country.

Almost 11 months - down the drain. All that, just for me to end up blubbering like some crazy person. At least she's happy; but that only makes it harder. Why is it all so okay with her? Why can she smile and sing like nothing ever happened, as if the time we spent together was absolutely worthless?

Why do only the bad dreams come true?

I wish people kept their promises.

But who am I to demand such? If God doesn't come down from heaven to shake people's shoulders and thell them, "You promised!" I guess that means I just have to suck it all up like I always do.

Is it unfair to expect everything for everything? I guess it is - love's supposed to be about giving everything even when you get nothing. I should count myself blessed that I got as much as I did, and I do.

But why does it hurt like hell? I might as well ask why the hell I was born.

No amount of sarcasm or bitterness will ever make it okay. Maybe that did the job before, but not this time. There will be no outlets, no padding, no comfort. Only pain. I only wish she'd come back and take all this pain away.

"Quit your self-pitiful whining and suffer like a man," I say to myself.
"She promised," I answer back.
"Have you learned anything at all? Anybody can make promises. Whether or not they keep them is another thing entirely."
"I thought that maybe, just this once, I could trust somebody." A tear.
"Save your tears. What are you, some kind of idiot? You always think wrong. You always believe wrong. You show the world that you hate their guts and that you don't trust anybody, but deep down you're just some soft fool who likes to drown in the idealist fantasies you attach to other people."
I put my shoulders up a little. "That was a mean thind to say."
Slap. I don't see the imprint on my cheek, but i feel it burn. "You're not a child anymore, so stop acting like one. Life is mean. Nobody gives a shit about you. live with it."
I resist the urge to touch my cheek. "And what if I don't want to?" I ask defiantly.
I answer myself simply. "Then die."

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it oepns up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life... You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, and so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain." - Rose Walker, The Kindly Ones, Sandman vol. 9

I'd would say, "I hate love," like Rose did after saying everything above, but I can't. Because all I can say right now is...
"I love you, Hannah." T_T

Comments

Jonette said…
Oh, Tim.

I'm sorry to hear this. I guess my sympathies came too late. but for whatever it's worth....

*hug*
Johanna said…
i was really shocked when I read the last line you wrote...there I was completely understanding,nodding my head and agreeing with you (it's almost the same thing i would say about a past relationship)...i was shocked kasi that's my name too. weird.
mayumi said…
thousandth visitor, tim. this is horrible news. there's only one thing to do: get out of the country and work you're butt off.
Anonymous said…
haa... sana gnun nga lhat, "keep ur promises" pero s anki2ta ko mas totoo ang kasabhang "promises are made to be broken" db??? :-( i hate him!

Popular posts from this blog

"For a kiss, and the promise of your hand, I shall bring you that star." Or something like that.

In the middle of my travels to the end of the last deadline of the year (yay!), I found myself in Neil Gaiman's blog - which I haven't been to recently - and saw this wonderful link to some pictures from the upcoming Stardust movie. And because I am such a cheesy, melodramatic, sap, I have loved Stardust since the day I started reading page one. I can't wait to see how the movie adaptation will turn out. The great Mr. Gaiman himself is involved in the production, so I think its not going to be half-bad, at the very least. The picture on top shows Tristran and Victoria Forester. The only beef I have with this is that Claire Daines is playing Yvaine. I don't know why, but I have never liked Claire Daines. Looking at the photo below - I can't help but wonder if this is as good as it gets. And I don't mean that in a good way. Nevertheless, I am looking forward to catching this film on the big screen and owning a personal copy on DVD. And then after Stardust, there...

Don't mind me, it's all just small talk

What is it with me and small talk? 99 percent of the people I know or have met seem to enjoy it, and I can't even pretend to be interested. Yes, I know, I'm weird and just more than a tad anti-social, but does that mean that it's not normal to even have a remotely intelligent conversation with someone? Does that mean that normal, regular conversation will always consist of how much you like having your picture taken in your spiffy little mobile phone or some remote mundane incident involving someone you know but I don't? Of course, I also do realize that I'm being really subjective here - who am I to say that small talk isn't intelligent conversation? I mean, maybe I'm just trying to get people to think the way I think and have conversations the way I want them to. I think I should lighten up. But I can't. Well, I guess that means I just have to endure more idle chit chat and try to work on at least displaying a semblance of interest on the topic at ...

Judge the movie by its trailer

I am totally beside myself after watching the trailer for Ghost Rider . Never mind the technical errors such as Blackheart being described as "the son of the devil himself" - when he's just Mephisto's son, or that a part of the trailer that is - if I'm not mistaken - grammatically incorrect, or at least could be written better. I still can't wait to see the 1337 leather jacket and 1337 chain, the 1337 bike, and the h0t Eva Mendes. The flaming skull-head could use a bit more work though. Nevertheless, I'm quite sure that I'm going to be one of those lining up to see it come February next year. On a different note, The Devil Wears Prada looks quite promising. Meryl Streep as a soft spoken (in the trailer, at least) but very b*tchy cutthroat EIC for a fashion magazine and Anne Hathaway as her un-fashionable assistant might be the low-of-lows plot wise, but it's the possibility of great, not to mention amusing, perfomances from the actors that I...