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rosamundxx · 5 years

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A Piece of My Mind

I have been silent for far too long. It is for the reason that i want to keep whatever's left of my privacy and sanity intact. I thought that by doing so, this will pass. But i cannot keep my silence anymore if there are rumors surrounding my name.

There is no condominium. What there is, is only an apartment shared with three other relatives. This apartment is equipped with CCTV’s and on top of that, it is next to other units that house more other relatives. Not that I have an obligation to give you the guarantee that you crave, but no, I haven’t been there not even once. And oh, in case you want to know too, I haven’t been anywhere secluded and isolated with him.

That day when I was walking along Makati Av., I actually came from Century City, during which I spent my time with my Intermediate Accounting 1A Book of Millan (I highly recommend this author, he is LIT) together with my aesthetic Stabilo Pastel highlighters. I was studying ‘Receivables’ because at the moment, I was 1 week away from Prelims week.

The reason for me frequently ditching my classes was because I wanted an escape - needed it so badly. I do not need to expound on this, I’m sure you know the whole scenario since pretty much, this has gotten so publicized than it needed to be.

I do not know where to even start. I don’t know whoever this will reach. Or if I would even let this post be in the public eye. But this is just me in my normal routine, which means whenever it all feels like too much, I would find an outlet and express whatever it is that needs expressing, write and write until I get tired of writing. After finishing this blog, I will click post, then it will be displayed on my website. But I will only post this on a more crowded platform once the second trigger comes. The first trigger came last week, which pushed me into writing this. When the second trigger comes, I will make this post public.

To you, the man I’ve loved for 8 years of my short life in this earth, I want you to know that I have loved you dearly. I have loved you genuinely and wholeheartedly so. As it breaks your heart that this came upon us, I hope it won’t blind you from seeing that it hurt me too, it broke me too. You have stayed and stood by me in the most crucial parts of my life. And I am deeply grateful for it, for you, for the fragment you’ve relayed to me.

I’m sorry that you’re hurting. I’m sorry that you’re breaking. And while I understand that in order for you to cope you need friends to lean on, it also crushes me that it has become this way.

It doesn’t feel good to be judged. I faced it. I ignored judgments. I kept silent. I showed up to classes without ever wanting to be in it. Then I skipped them. Then I skipped them again. I wanted so bad to escape, and so I did.

I value my privacy so much to the extent that I hadn’t told anyone the full story. When somebody questions me, I give concise answers and that’s it. Because by then, I believed in the philosophy; “Those who judge, don’t matter, and those who matter, don’t judge.” Kaya ang laki ng kumpyansa ko na wag magsalita. Dahil ang sabi ko sa sarili ko, these people that I trust will never turn their back on me. And oh boy, was I wrong. It hurt a lot. It sucked up big time. Greeting and reaching out to people then receiving doubtful and unsure smiles in return. I want you to know how much courage I took from myself just to pull that. Kilo-kilong lakas ng loob ang kailangang ipunin ko para lang bumati dahil tuwing papasok ako, nangangapa ako sa kung kanino iiwas, kung sino ang papansinin. Para akong naglalakad sa salamin, hindi ko alam kung saan dapat tumapak at saan dapat umiwas. And when someone seems uncomfortable to return my greeting, I make a mental note to distance myself. Hanggang sa ako nalang ang umiwas sa lahat para hindi na komplikado. I distanced myself not because I hold grudges but because I respect the fact that Klyde is your friend and that you side with him. I understand that. That’s why I don’t want to force/confuse you into being okay with me. It is alright to take his side. It is okay to feel sympathetic towards him. After all, I am not in a competition here. I do not want any of the people’s sympathy. Kaso, sana lang tapat tayo dito. Sana yung totoo.

Which stories have you heard? What stories do you know? Is it the one where I was being needy because I was against him playing ML? When you heard that story, did you think that I was too demanding? too needy? Have you heard the part where I very often wait for an hour or more (standing up the entire time) because he wakes up late for playing too long the night before? Waiting is okay, kaso kung palagi, at hindi mo makita that he even has the slightest initiative to break this routine, nakakasaid din. Sa isang relasyon, hindi lang third party yung posibleng dahilan kung bakit kayo mapapagod. Mas madalas kasi, it’s the small things na kapag pinagsama-sama lalo na kung paulit-ulit, will really compromise the relationship.

When you hear his voice breaking while speaking of his pains, does it also occur to you the pains I’ve endured nung panahon na pakiramdam ko wala na siyang pakialam dahil kulang nalang kalasin ko phone ko para lang di mag-online para matakot ka naman at hanapin mo ‘ko kasi di ko na alam gagawin sa’yo ang tigas tigas mo. Di effective ang paghingi ng atensyon, tapos di rin effective silent treatment, akala ko effective kapag pinag-alala kita. There were days na sinasabi ko sa’yo ‘yung mga issues ko na ang sabi mo sakin, inaalala ko lang yun dahil pressured ako sa acads and that when we graduate, di na ako mag-iisip ng ganon. I AM an overthinker, and I hate it more than you do. You would sacrifice me having these internal issues until we graduate without even giving me the guarantee that I need, kaya mo yon? Sobrang nagsawa ka na ba talaga na iassure ako everytime I’m having these doubts? You don’t know half of what’s going through my head every night, and the damage it gives me, and you can’t even assure me? I’m sorry for tiring you too much, then.

The last quarter of last year was the most strenuous and tough. Ang tigas mo. Ang tigas mo. Everytime I open up about something, you would shut me out. It hurt so much. Everything I had was built on us, on you, that when you left me hanging, it hurt bad when I fell. Malaking adjustments kasi mula sa pagpasok, pagkain, pag-uwi, pag-lakad, pag-commute, etc., kasama kita. Ang hirap kapag nasanay ka. May isang beses na uuwi nalang ako mapapahagulgol pa ko sa daan dahil lang nadaanan ko yung kariton na nagbebenta ng roasted peanuts na lagi mong binibilhan. Hindi ko maintindihan yung nangyayari, nangangapa ako. I was always so sure of you, but during this time, wala na ‘kong sigurado. Then I would stay in the park in front of G4, para hintayin si Ate. Ito yung mga panahon na kunyari nanonood ako ng k-drama para lang majustify ko sa mga dumadaan kung bakit namumugto mata ko. And then I cried my heart out to her. I was so messy, I was all over the place. Kinailangan niyang ipark yung kotse sa tabi ng daan at 11PM just to console me at dahil hinahyperventilate ako. And at that moment, in the backseat in the middle of a very quiet night with the very cold temperature, nawala yung kalahati sa bigat na nararamdaman ko. And I remember feeling so tired and sleepy and exhausted.

Come next week, Daddy died. Exam week yun, hindi ako nakapag-aral man lang dahil siguro wala na kong gana at marami akong ibang inaalala. Hindi ko na tayo maisingit sa isa sa mga kailangan kong isipin at ayusin at asikasuhin at pagtuunan ng pansin. I was constantly asking myself that week, “may mas dapat ba kong ginawa? may mali ba sa nagawa ko? dapat bang mas napaaga yung pagsugod sa ospital? kasi pucha, konting panahon lang eh.

Kapag namatayan ka, the pain of loss and mourning should not make you stop. Wala eh. Walang panahon magluksa. Aside from the fact that you feel so devastated, kailangan mong kumilos dahil tumatakbo yung oras, kailangan maprovide ora-orada yung chapel, yung funeral services, yung mga papeles, etc. I remember, nung pumili ako ng barong, nanginginig ako. Ang daming tanong na pumapasok sa isip ko. Madaming nakapaligid na emosyon. Remorse, confusion, anger, loss, fear, at iba pa. You know everything about my life. Alam mo kung anong tumakbo sa isip ko nung mga panahon na yun. And you know how unsure I was of my life dahil sa nangyari. I didn’t know what would happen.

On 21st of December, I broke it off. You were trying to win me back, you wanted me back. Yan ang hirap sa’tin eh, sala ka sa init, sala ka sa lamig. Sana noon. Bakit noon wala akong makitang takot sa’yo. Nasasaktan na ko’t lahat, ni hindi ka man lang nanginig.

On 22nd, the day of my birthday, I found out I failed two of my compre subjects. Ayaw ko sanang tignan, kaso ang sabi, sa araw lang na yun magiging available yung pag-open ng canvas at pagcheck ng grades. Ang sucky. I was so mad kaso di ko alam kung para saan yung galit at kung para kanino. I thought 2018 was done kaso mukhang nag-enjoy siya. GG. It’s hard to

Come the weeks after, ang pinoproblema ko naman is kung paano ako hindi madedelay. Walang preno, sunod sunod pare, hindi pwedeng huminga hindi pwedeng umiyak. Hindi na ko natutuwa. I was devastated, hindi ko alam kung paano sasabihin, hindi ko alam kung pano lulusutan. At dad’s interment, hindi ko alam kung para saan yung mga luha ko, para sa pagkawala niya, o para sa thought na talunan ako dahil bumagsak ako at malaking possibility na hindi ako makapagtapos ng naaayon sa timeline na gusto ko at inaasahan ko. Everything was competing inside my head, nag-uunahan sila kung sinong dapat kong unahin pag-isipan at pag-alalahanan.

I’m sorry.

To you, my 8 years, I’m sorry that you were too tired of me, of my whims. I’m sorry that I tired you. I’m sorry dahil nakakapagod akong mahalin. And I’m sorry that you even have to put up with me. I’m sorry kung naubos ko yung pagmamahal na meron ka, I’m sorry kung hindi mo mahanap yung pagmamahal para sa sarili mo. If I could make you forget the pain, I would.

If you defended my name, thank you, you deserve all my gratitude.

If you believed in me, I wish you all the best.

If you respect me, I respect you too. Thank you.

If you don’t care at all, that’s cool. Because we shouldn’t care about others’ lives, right?

If you played a role in spreading false information, I’m in the process of forgiving and I’m getting there.

If you’re one of the people who made me feel like shit, thank you for making me strong.

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petereston-blog · 7 years

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Hi! I’m Peter Eston. I live in the place where most people value family bonds, love, and of course virginity. Well, at least not for me. By the time I turn 28, I’m confident that I’ll be holding a doctorate degree in Education wearing an Onesimus polo barong and a slim fit black slack and a pair of Mendrez not-so pointed shoes. Or probably a plain white shirt and a trousers and a pair of black Vans shoes while I enjoy the night in The Pads by Padi’s Point. It’s not me being conceited and proud, just as I said I’m just too confident. I am smart, I think. I do have high grades in my transcript of records except in Math. I believe that it’s Math that hates me because I do love Math. It’s just that before exams I know how to solve the problems but when I already have the paper, well that is another issue. That makes me conclude that math is a kind of social suicidal.

I do have a lot of friends. I have friends from the school I am enrolled, not to mention my backstabbing dellusional egotistical girl friends. I also have bar friends. We really are friends when in bar, but when not, they’re just pieces of craps to be with. There’s this one time when I became a gay on Facebook as I saw this posted, “I’m a gay and I used to be”, that’s because of my best friends. Take note, do not leave your Facebook open and unattended especially when your best friends are around.

I spend most of my time with these guys playing beerpong, kicking the night out in a bar, and making theories about drinking. Maybe the reason that we are able to make a theory on the hierarchy of getting wasted due to too much intake of alcohol. Level one: TIPSY. This is the state wherein you get the gut and confidence to boast because of the 2 bottles of beers assimilated in your bloodstream. Level two: DRUNK. Most people would love this stage because by this time you really can’t stop feeling the beat and all you want to do is to shake your booties and party like a bad ass with other folks in the bar. Level three: SOBER. Here comes the word “vomit” due to excessive intake of beer or vodka or tequilla or whatsoever you drink. The last stage is definitely the worst: WASTED. You have no idea what had happened. All you’ll know is that you’re on your bed at the worst state of your looks with your bad breath. And there comes the most hateful feeling, HANGOVER.

My teenage had been so happy and satisfied. It was as long as I had my mom to give me my allowances. I also had a collection of romantic comedy and drama movies. My favorite part was romance. It was when my 5-inch dick started to erect, it was 4.5 actually I rounded it off for my friends not to make fun of me. Oh fuck!

I had a 13-year old girlfiend, Sally Ludwig, but we broke due to unnecessary issue. It was that I kissed her but she really did had a bad breath. I thought the kiss would be spontaneous like a scene from my favorite movie but it turned out to be a comedy movie. She had my first kiss. A bad breath was my first kiss! That’s why I never forgot Sally then.

Life had been that simple not until I met Molly Miller. She’s my classmate in the junior and the senior year. I became friends with her. We did a lot of memories together. We get drunk, we laughed at each other’s mistakes, we shared principles, we made each other believed, we were more like best friends though we’re not. Till these memories turned out to hugs and kisses. That was the kiss I said that was spontaneous. The four classroom walls could proved how we loved each other by then. We even had those kisses in the corridor, in hall walls, and even in the stairs to computer building.

We entered different universities in college but we shared a common goal. Distance didn’t matter at first. We were able to travel and to see different places at its best perspectives. I came to know everything and even the deepest about her. She did too. Everything was about “we”, “us”, and “together.” We were at our best.

A touch turned to hugs. Hugs changed to kisses. Kisses built fire. We did it not once but a number only us can count. Oh fuck. I loved her. It was some kind of a story everbody would like to tell. But I was wrong. Everything was not about“we”, “us”, and “together”, it’s all about “her.” I loved her so much that it killed her. She was like a child who ate a cheese, and after slicing the cheese into pieces, she had most of it, but when she lost her appetite she left it and went out to see her playmate. She had another.

“If it was love, it will last. If it was not, it’s just the spark built by chemistry.” Or maybe you’ll be left by an unanswered question; “Why do God let some people meet when they too have to part ways?”

Bad thing about being left was that you’d get stuck to the place where she first left you. It’s such a pity that most people didn’t understand. The worse thing was you act as strangers when in fact you knew everything about that bitch. And the worst thing was they made you believed that everything was real then left you with nothing but a broken heart - Damn!

I started to find my worth. More often in bars, sometimes in parties. Or in my friends’ houses, of course drunk. I was wasted yet few friends out of many had sympathy. I called the few the “chosen ones”. Not literally the Bible story but because it was not a choice for them to stay but took it as a responsibility to make me felt I had them. Shit guys! We’re all going to be the shareholders of our own bar in few years.

I went out with my friends from elementary grade whom I never knew I’d be with. I experienced even one of the well-known bars in the country. To make the night count, we didn’t pay and got out so smoothly without no one noticing us. That was fucking crazy! We did jay walking and then ran after the enforcer. I did crazy stupid things with these guys. They put some spice into my life and it would be thrilling if I lose them.

The many were called the “double-tongued.” They were the mean, unwelcoming, unprincipled, sinful, incompetent backstabbing people you wouldn’t likely to meet in bars and in school, most especially in the library.

I felt like I already experienced everything about life. I even did the weirdest and the stupidest thing a man could do. It all happened when I met Kelly Foster in a bar. She really had a nice booby and booty. It was usual that a man could sex a girl like Kelly but a threesome wasn’t. Yes. We did it. It’s fucked as hell! A day I went to school as a student, the night I went to bar as one of the party goers then in the morning by the time I woke I am a fuck boy? Oh. Holy Shit!

We never meant what happened. I knew it was a mistake in the first place, but when it happened again, I was sure it was already a choice.

With all that happened, I made a bucket list. They’re as follows:

1. To go solo backpacking

2. To buy something I really want

3. To be on a cliff/ mountain top with worthy people

4. To experience ice skating

5. To have ** with a stranger

6. A dress up date night

7. To be someone’s everything

8. To make myself believe again

These lists I made were the things I really wanted to experience. Of course, that’s why

it’s called a bucket list. I started to feel discontentment with all the things I have. This discontentment brought me to Felicidad Samuel. I used to call her Felly. Her name means happiness. It was such a coincidence that I met her during the Christmas Season, maybe to make the season happy and prosperous.

She was the girl a man could probably hope except for one thing, gossips were that she had a Sexually Transmitted Disease or STD. Oh fuck! I wanted to make out with her but it’s just that I didn’t want to get infected. Though gossips were gossips, but sometimes gossips I believe is some sort of theories that haven’t been proven yet. But we did something to fill up my cravings and my sexual needs. Everytime we met a wind blew through the river making its water flows through the dry hills making them fertile. Oh holy shit! You know what I mean. This metaphor happened again and again not until she started to be like so possessive.

Maybe I needed to be thrilled. Or maybe I didn’t need any of these fucking love life. So I just enjoyed my fucking good life and went to parties with Julie Will. Julie had the worst past I knew. She lost her 6-year boyfriend in a car accident. It was such an irony that I had the worst break up that anyone could have, then a month after that, she had hers. Well, I woudn’t deny Julie was my first love. She’ll always be. We’ve gone through the same thing. It made me want to take care of her and be his best friend. She shared everything to me because she knew I felt the same way. I knew I was falling but I also believed it was wrong. And so I kept it. I didn’t want her to think that I’m taking advantage of her.

We shared a lot of experiences together. We’ve gone to REDvolution: A World Aids Awareness. It was the first time that we went to see thousands of people the same as we. And in result to that, we jumped high while we put our hands in the air. “We didn’t just drink, we party hard.” Moreover, We got 20 condoms from the party and kept it in my bag. We loved the pleasures that these parties offered. And so, we attended HydroMNL. What’s so good about HydroMNL was that they retweeted me on twitter. Then it started the tweets about the party. Oh Com’on!. At night I saw same faces of people from REDvolution. The best that happened was that no one left the party not wet. We were all wet, literally!

“Everything is possible. If it does, it is done. If it is impossible, then it will be done.”

But before you conclude whom I’d be with, Let me introduce you to my girlfriend now. She is Shelly Susan. Of all the girl stories above, she’s the one who’s always been there for me. She knows everything about me because I never lie to her. She accepts the whole Peter Eston. Shelly knows even the little things that any of these girls wouldn’t know. She gives me chocolate when I’m stressed. She buys me pizza rolls because she knows I would kiss her if she does. She hugs me more than I hug her because she knows how I love to feel loved. She kisses my shoulder because I do have a lot of goose bumps whenever she does that. When I lean on her chest, I would easily fall to sleep. Yes. We cuddle most of the time.

She don’t know how much I love her because I barely show the affection. A thing I am sure about her is that she laughs so loud, it makes her so innocent. She has this ability that makes anyone feels best and satisfied. It makes me wanna be with her even more. I love her. I wanna own everything of her, though I already do. If you would notice she always does a tiger look whenever she smells my cigarette. She likes to talk to me everytime I get drunk because I get to sweet that it makes her feel so loved.

She’s clingy. She pinches me most of the time, I don’t know why. She even bites when I least expect it. She has this habit of repeating what she says. She also has what most girls call “a girlfriend’s instinct.” She knows when I flirt with other girls. She gets mad when I do that. And so I stopped. I don’t wanna give her the reason not to love me because I’m so fucking in love in the way she loves me.

Shelly is the kind of girl I know that has the least experience of the many people I met. She’s an in-house daughter. I actually never thought I would love a girl like Shelly, but she digs me. Her situation makes me wanna show her that the world is so big that it could offer a lot of possibilities and opportunities. And so I make every moments count. It is that “sometimes it’s good to break the rules.” It is the first time she feels like to be a real girl in the real world making decisions and doing crazy stupid things for herself.

She digs me. But so did I. I already have plans with her. Truth is, I cannot end this story. My story with Shelly Susan will forever be continuous. And I have no plans on getting tired writing our story. My life with would-be Mrs. Eston may never be as perfect as those other relationships but one thing I am surely proud of is that everything about us is true and real. Only me deserves her.

The best thing my love Shelly makes me realize is that “Leave what was, live what is, and prepare for what will be.”

#self acceptance #lovesick #wake me when it's over #fiction

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