On Feelings That We Can’t Explain
Why is it so hard to start writing? What is the basis of a good beginning? A quote? A question? Should I just go directly to the point and start with “I feel like my life sucks and I couldn’t escape”?
All I want to do is to release these feelings, because by that it will be easier. At least that’s what I think. The past few weeks had been a mixture of bliss and angst, none outweighs the other so I always end up confused. Funny how I seem to deal with confusing stories, scattered and incomplete details and turn them into something at least a little more comprehensive. Why can’t we do that with feelings? Why can’t we just organize them quickly, as if trying to beat a deadline, so at the end of the day something had been resolved? Why are there always two sides of the story? Why does life refuses to turn into a beautiful mash-up, amid relentless efforts and long strings of patience?
The hopeful in me believes in miracles, in dreams that do come true. I tried the 11:11 thing, the three o’clock prayer, even the MRT wish thing. I don’t just do them as if on command, I do them whole-heartedly until I get tired. Sometimes, you just stop believing.
A friend of mine told me a couple of weeks ago that she read my blog (or at least a post or two from this emotional outlet) and she thought that it was “so me” (try this with a bratinella accent. It’s freaking annoying.) I don’t know if I should take that as a hint to lessen the personal posts. I tried, believe me, I did. I restructured the way I write way back in college. But come on, it’s not like I’m some talented artist or opinionated individual (by that I mean someone who has something relevant to say. Mine’s more like random sentiments). The blood of my blog is my individuality, my feelings, and my swashbuckling life.
But I noted that comment and removed my blog link from several social networking sites. I’m also in the process of changing my personal information here… that process could take weeks or even months, so bear with me.
So yeah, I find it a little alarming that my blog speaks a lot about me, but isn’t that the purpose of a blog? Well,that’s just for me, could be an isolated case. But if I don’t do this, writing about the joys and pains of being me, I will waste the time of people who listen to me incessantly — mainly my best friend and my closest work friend.
So I figured that maybe, I will just have to deal with the shit of limiting myself in the virtual space.
The point of this post? Hmmm? Funny how I still find it hard to start even though I have already said a bunch of stuff up there.
I never expected that there will come a time that I’d actually feel this confused again. I know I had tons of confusions related to relationships in the past, but this one is a little more unexpected and so freaking hard to deal with.
All along, I thought that I was the only one who’s holding on to something that isn’t there. Not really gripping tight. Its just like a little string attached to the other end that could be cut immediately, a string that I don’t get to notice on a regular basis. I didn’t realize its the same on the other end, despite the hints.
It’s always complicated to start and end a relationship, but I find it extra hard to continue something that had hung on thin air for quite a while. You see, when you somehow hold on to something for years, it doesn’t mean you love that thing eternally, incessantly. It could also mean that you are trapped.
While you could go on every day without thinking of that thing, at some points, you’ll feel like it’s probably nice to try to work it out again. To tie the string again. To get attached again. Maybe, just maybe, that’s the key to happiness.
As I have said, it was a mixture of bliss and angst. It was beautiful and dysfunctional at the same time. And here I am again, over analyzing things.
I am expressive, I show off my feelings but I hold back when it’s about romance. (Except in this blog, obviously, and to some friends.) All it has to take was his courage to spill the beans, to confront me and my feelings. It should have been something beautiful because it was the first time in so many years that he admitted he still wants me to be his partner in life. That it’s still me all along. I couldn’t help but smile and feel bliss. No tears yet, except that he has his fears. I don’t know why people let assumptions hold them back. I don’t understand why people think too much in advance. What I want is just to enjoy the bliss. I was happy. I am happy. God knows what I had to endure to react, to swallow all his confessions. But I did. And I’m still up for it amid the painful admissions. I’ve never been this ready.
But at the end of the day and after a careful analysis at the solace of my room, I ended up speechless. It didn’t change the way I feel, because really, everyone’s bound to change and I accepted that fact way way back. But if he doesn’t know what to do and he remains to be haunted my his assumptions, I don’t know where I should stand. He’s open to the “let’s discover this thing together.” But man, does that even work? Isn’t it easier to cut the crap and just let go?
The big question was “are we okay?” I believe we are, we still talk like we didn’t actually confronted our feelings one night. But it’s hard to bear. It’s nice that I’m still that one he wants to end up with, for good. It’s amazing that he wants a real relationship this time, like cut all the flirtatious stuff. But it’s so annoying that somehow, he made me feel that I’m not even worth the try. He still doesn’t think I’m ready to accept his quirks.
Makes me feel bad. This is why I hate feelings. This is why I hate confrontation. I’d be happy just to stay at the sidelines.