lostforeword

[lostforeword]

So... what does it mean to be loved?

[lostforeword]

It's one grey sky morning, and I'm wondering if I really am capable of love.

I'm sitting here, trying to conjure up everything that's going inside of my heart and my mind. I don't know. What is my idea of love? How do I love somebody?

For some reason, I feel like the love that I know is destructive.

Am I heading for a self-destruction? I don't want to inflict pain on anybody. Do you think it's best if I take a step back and stay away from people?

Maybe I'm just silently hoping someone would take the fuse out of this bomb, which I wish I could so myself. Maybe I need help, and I'm just scared to ask for it.

[lostforeword]

This feels so foreign, yet so familiar. I have so many things to say, and this ain't even half of it.

Hey! For the first time in almost a decade, I feel like someone I like likes me back. Can you believe it? And honestly, it feels so simple, so pure, so primal. And you know what, it all came unexpectedly.

I like your company. I like being with you. I like how you make me feel. And I'd like to believe you feel the same way. Not sure if that matters, but I want to make you feel the same way you do to me.

Then there come the thoughts. My heart feels so heavy with all the burden I carried all throughout the years. The weight of strength has its own downfall, and it is crashing down my chest. I can feel the gravity of holding on to that linger of hope for something good, even if it's just a thin string keeping you together. I feel broken. My idea of love has become a blur brought by everything around me - my upbringing, current familial situation, prolonged solitude, superficial adoration, and so many other things. My mind is clouded by darkness and worries, and I just can't seem to think straight.

Being with you for the past week made me realize things about me - things I've always swept under the rug. Now, I have no choice but to face them head-on. I'm afraid, but I'll be brave. However, I'm not sure how this will end.

I can't tell you all of this, at least not yet. I don't want you to see me as a broken person, and I know I am. But then, I will try my best to make myself whole. Not just for you, but for myself too. I like you, and I want to bring you the best version of me I know.

I don't know how much of you I can let in.

[lostforeword]

Hey! How many times have you told yourself that everything’s gonna be okay?

[lostforeword]

Rain on us, Saint Honesty.

I haven't felt this nostalgic in a while. The rain has stopped, but you can still feel the gloominess the dark clouds brought linger. The dusk is settling in, and the windows from other homes have started to light up. A beautiful sight, isn't it?

I was browsing through the Activity Log page on my Facebook profile and saw how inactive I am. I don't interact much, contrary to how I was, perhaps, a decade ago. I stumbled upon albums that I have set the access to Only Me just to realize how simple life really was back then. Photos taken from phones with two megapixel cameras, poses pretending to be magazine covers, smiles that carry no care nor fucks to be given, sceneries of bliss and innocence - all that and so much more.

What happened to everyone, to the world, to us, to me? Those photos were from at least fifteen years ago. I can eerily feel how old I am getting, as well as the people around me. That's life, you would say. We've changed so much.

Life was so simple back then. Fifteen years from now, do you think our future selves would say the same thing about the present that we have now?

Let's elevate this feeling of nostalgia, because I just can't pull myself away. I need to get a new casing for that old Nokia phone that I have. I wanna hear Jordin_Sparks_feat._Chris_Brown-No_Air.mp3.

[lostforeword]

I can never have you.

Never say never.

It's still you. We've known each other for more than a year now. Every time we get together, we tend to become closer. Well, at least that's how it feels like.

It's been years since my last relationship. Almost a decade now, come to think of it. The years in between... well, they're composed of self-chosen solitude, some of longing and wanting, some of trying, and some of crying. Every attempt is a step closer to what I have always imagined. Sadly, I am always stopped after every step to remind myself that this is not yet it. When will that time come?

You are probably the closest I have to something real and mutual. At least, in my head, that's what I want to believe. That's how you make it feel. We do know that there's a line that we cannot cross for so many reasons, and we have no other choice but to stay that way.

I don't know. I've had you in my mind since the first time I met you early last year. I don't know how I feel about everything. Seriously. This will never make sense to anybody else but me. I haven't told you about it. That's funny because I have already opened up so much about me, and I don't do that to anybody.

I don't know. I like you, but I know that we just can never be.

I'm just a fucked up hopeless romantic wanting more from whatever we have right now. I know, however, that I might never get that.

[lostforeword]

Make me your slut.

[lostforeword]

I feel like I’m losing touch of who I am, my personality, my individuality. The dissociation used to come in different waves. Now, it feels like a constant stream of water - continuously flowing.

What’s happening?

More importantly, who am I really?

[lostforeword]

slow descent into insanity

[lostforeword]

Breathe.

Sunday's coming, and by Monday, we'll all be back to our daily routines. These past few days have been calm. They have been quiet. I needed these moments. I really did.

For the last eight or nine years, Tagaytay has been a special place for me. We go here every year (sans 2021 and 2022 because of the pandemic), and I would always have fond memories to bring home with me.

These past few days have given me time to think about what matters in life. I set aside my daily worries, and just try to breathe and get through the day in the simplest ways I could imagine. Having said that, I also made sure I made the most out of my time here. I know I had to make this short break as great as it could be, and I think I succeeded in that. I might have to apologize to my wallet later though. Haha!

I miss sitting on a terrace. I realize how therapeutic that could be for me. Ever since I moved to a small condo unit end of 2022, this was one of those things I never realized I have taken for granted. The bright sun accompanied by the soft cold breeze was everything. I have my Switch on my hands, pausing my game just to appreciate the feeling.

Tomorrow, we'll be going back to our home in the Metro. I had a great time.

[lostforeword]

I've felt this before. For some reason, as weird as it was, I kinda liked how it felt.

You feel like you're floating, just like a wayfaring stranger, a wandering soul. You're here, but at the same time, you're not. You, however, are okay. You see the world from a far, yet you have both of your feet on the ground, meeting everything on eye level.

There's this uncertainty of whatever comes next. It creeps you out, but the chills don't scare you hard enough. It's all part of life, you say to yourself. You're growing, number by number, year per year. Signs of aging make themselves relevant slowly. Not just on you, but on everyone around you.

2020 was four years ago. There was something when that year started. You had no idea where life will take you. You go along with the flow. The current was slow, yet you enjoyed being carried away by it. Remember that last day before the lockdown? You and your friends went on a quick beach trip. You felt like runaways, trying to live life one last time. Everyone around you was scared. Well, you were too. But you knew you still have to go for it. You did, and you loved everything about it.

So much of this world is above us, baby. I'm sitting here, in front of my laptop, listening to Mac Miller's Circles. Currently, Surf (my favorite from the album) is on my ears, and I can't help but be thankful and hopeful. We're here. The waves of those memories bring calmness and beauty to the chaos the uncertainty of the future brings. I know we try, and the days, they go by.

Can't believe it's been four years since 2020. Can't wait to go back to the beach.

Until we get old, there's water in the flowers, let's grow.

[lostforeword]

"So you tell yourself, that's enough for now"

[lostforeword]

I had a different idea of what my December would be like. I never imagine I would be going through it with such a heavy, heavy heart.

Having a dysfunctional family can be really tough. I just wish shit didn't need to happen during the holidays. I've looked forward to this part of the year with so much hope and excitement. But here I am, wanting to cry but couldn't. There's so many things that I have no control over but affect me negatively. Why do these things happen? Putangina. Why? Why can't we just be a normal, understanding family? There's so much hate, back and forth, and I'm stuck in between. Sometimes, I really just want to off myself, but I know that'll only make things worse, even if I won't be around to see it.

I'm tired of this. It's just a never ending cycle that I just can't seem to get out of.

I wish I have been writing about the things I want to write about - gratitude towards amazing people I have met this year, as well as the memorable experiences and adventures that made me believe, for once, that this year was almost as good as 2019. Alas, December really had to let me down.

My heart is heavy. I wish it wasn't.

[lostforeword]

We are only here for a while.

"Where are they now?", I ask myself while looking at digitally restored photos from the '50s on social media. The world looked so differently back then. The color of the skies seemed a little more yellow. The outfits were chic and simple. There were no mobile phones in sight. I have no idea who they are, but I'm wondering where they are now.

My thumb continues to do the accustomed scrolling. There came up a picture of someone I know, in Canada with her husband. I thought to myself, "now, that's recent".

Growing up, I don't like the idea of having pictures of me taken. For one, I grew up believing I was ugly. Maybe I still am. At this point, I stopped calling myself ugly. I'd rather refer to how I look as unconventionally attractive. I feel good sometimes, and I think that's enough for me.

For the past few years, I stopped minding having a picture of me taken, especially with people I love. I don't know. Photographs have been such a great way of preserving memories. It doesn't always have to be the best shot. I just want to be reminded of specific moments.

One day, a photo will be the only way to see me. I hope whenever you hold that picture of me, of us, you'll remember us fondly.

[lostforeword]

Someday, I’ll be yours, surrendering. You can have me all you want. But not now, not anytime soon.

I have the energy to run. I can still get away from you, even if there are times that I feel like everything’s pointless. There are times when I just want to stop thinking, feeling, existing. But no. Somewhere out there, there’s something I need to get to, and I have to get there first.

Someday, I’ll be yours. You have to wait, for it’s not now, not anytime soon.

I wonder, what’s left of what we have. There’s so much joy, pain, sweetness and bitterness all together, a cycle that goes in so many various directions. Somewhere out there, there’s an ending, and I have begun working my way to it.

Someday, I’ll be yours. Thoughts, feelings, overall existence will cease, devoured by nothingness. Is there anything beyond being under your possession?

[lostforeword]

Right on the limit's where we know we both belong.

[lostforeword]

I really am not lucky in this part of my life, eh?

I rarely have crushes. There's this guy I really like. He's more than ten years my senior. Well, to be fair, we haven't really had much of an interaction aside from professional concerns. However, there's something about him that felt caring, warm, and inviting. Little did I know, apparently, he's actually dating somebody - somebody my age.

I've had my fair share of this kind of stuff, but I'm always handed the short end of the stick. I keep on saying maybe it's time to give up on it. I keep on believing that somebody will come. I don't know. I'm yearning for someone, for something. Will it ever come?

For the past few years, I've tried. I waited. I made my move. I waited. I let go of people to welcome new ones. Possibilities are endless, and they're avoiding my way. Stop knocking on my door just to leave once I open it. I'm yearning for someone, for something that I know will never be mine.

Time is passing us by. It's alright to cry. It might make you feel better, babe.