I was about to leave when an idea came to my mind.  I want to go elsewhere.  I was not bored but my mind was telling me to go and roam around and forget some things.  Then, this came to my mind—I want to write about something or some things, or about someone.  The truth is that I didn’t know exactly what to write.  I just had this feeling that I should write, and my mind was telling me that I should continue.  Instead of heading towards the door, I took my laptop and began to type my thoughts out.

 

I guess that my will and desire to write had returned.  Welcome back.

 

Anyway, I would like to write about. . .hmmmm… about what I was feeling. I wrote this on the eighth day of June, about a quarter before noon.

 

I was having mixed feelings on this day.  I was not sad, nor happy.  Regretful? Not really.  I couldn’t explain myself.  I was feeling near blank.  Or I was feeling dead.

 

“He was my first…”

 

OK.  This may not be the right intro because it doesn’t even make sense to put this statement.  What is the connection?

 

– – –

 

 

          He was my first.  I don’t know what went wrong.  I loved him more than anybody else and I felt loved.  Now, I am feeling betrayed, ruined, but certainly relieved.  We broke up about two months later.  And our first anniversary [supposedly] will be celebrated next month.  But I don’t know if I will celebrate this on my own.

 

          I still don’t know exactly what the hell went wrong.

 

          I am in a state of confusion and in a state of guilt.  I keep on thinking why.  I let my irrational thinking do the job, thus, made me more confused.

 

          I did almost everything.  I put the word, ‘almost’ there, because if I did everything, I might as quit schooling or move to Manila without telling my parents or have sex ‘till I get pregnant.  You know…things like that.  But I didn’t do that.  But I tried to let him stay. I put my understanding on top of all this and the rumor that ‘I pay his credits’ would be completely absurd.  I can say that I did everything because every promise I made will be granted.  I don’t break promises anymore.  And it’s all because of him.

 

          I did almost everything.  Almost.  It’s because when I promised that I will come to see him, I did see him.

 

          I did almost everything.

 

          I would not elaborate this.  Think that the whole story was just like that.  I don’t want to think more about it.  It would make me cry.  And that’s sucks.  That really sucks.

 

          I don’t know what went wrong.  I am starting to think that he doesn’t want me now.  He removed every memory of me—pictures and stuff.  Recently I found out that he removed our videos.  I was drunk when I found it out, so the impact was huge.  I keep on thinking, “Lawlaw gid ya.  Hindi man lang nag-iwan ng alaala.”  Maybe it’s his way of not remembering me or something.  Maybe, it’s his kind of ego defense mechanism.  He wants to move on, although he said that he’s not closing the door.  But he makes me feel I am not welcome anymore. 

 

         What should I feel?  I don’t know.  Maybe feeling dead will help.  I am feeling dead that I don’t want to think of anything.  I am feeling dead, and this is my ego defense mechanism.  I have to be numb to surpass every emotional storm that heads my way.  I have to be weak in order to be strong.  I have to be dead.

 

          I am starting to realize that he wants to forget me.  So I think I am succumbing.

 

Published by: nuthin2say

This is the blog of a person who has been won, defeated, won again.. Because life is just like that. Jamie, aka nuthin2say, is a pseudonym. She can be found in other places in the internet, using the online name jhamiefloatie. Her thoughts spewed words that created this blog. This contained her frustrations and victories towards her journey through life. This blog was born circa 2008. Most of the posts are from her teenage years.

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