This Is Why You Love Someone Who Is Not Yours

It all starts with assumptions. It starts with the voice at the back of head telling you that this time, it will probably work out. That this time things won’t probably go wrong because you’ve already learned a lot from the previous heartache. You assume because you start to hope again that it could escalate to a degree which is more than friendship. But you do not simply make assumptions for the sake of make-believe. You make assumptions because you see signs emanated by the one you love. Some may call it reckless and stupid, but it is still one of the forces of human nature which is hard, if not impossible, to defy.

As you continue to “assume” that the feeling is mutual, you let yourself become more vulnerable to heartache. The walls you have start to disintegrate and you become comfortable with him. He is the only one who could make you feel that way. This becomes a routine, and then you morph into a whimsical and hopeful being, like children looking forward to the promise of their reward after being docile to their parents or teachers’ orders. However, not all promises are fulfilled, just like not all love become reciprocated.

But even if you start to figure out that there is something wrong, you push it at the back of your mind because the scanty amount of hope was enough to make you cling on to what you both have. It was enough for you to stay. Even if he treats you like you’re an option, even if he values you less than what you are, even when you already come to realize that it will not work in the long run, you continue to talk to him and gamble with your chances. You’ll know when the spur of emotions fades but you will deny it and think of it as momentary. That would be the moment when he starts to call you only when he gets bored, when he starts to make excuses, when the good morning messages become rare and when he becomes too busy to even spare a minute to say hi and ask you how your day was. But even if this hurts, it was impossible for you to make demands because you know that you do not own him. There’s no label to what you have, but you assume that maybe both of you will get there. You were too afraid of losing him because you thought he was the one. But the truth is, he is not.

Sometimes, we assume too much that we live in our own ideas, and this hinders us from seeing the reality. And so we give ourselves completely to one person, regardless of what they truly feel about us. But when the fatal words, “I do not really love you,” comes ringing in our ears, we see the world as a catastrophic place and ask ourselves why we didn’t see it coming when the truth is that the signs were there all along.

There is a demarcation line between being in love with a person and being in love with the “idea of falling in love”. If you’re meant to be together, you will be, without forcing it to happen. Same thing goes the other way around. If he wants to leave, let him because the right one will stay even without you asking or begging for it. If he treats you like an option and if he values you less than what you are, muster enough courage to be the one to let go because you deserve someone better. He may be there now, but he will leave you, eventually. You have to realize that sometimes, there are things more than just love, and I am referring to “yourself”. I know that this contradicts the notion that it is a selfless act, but I guess it’s never too wrong to still leave some, or even a little for you as a person, as a being. It is hard, but sometimes the right decisions are not necessarily the convenient ones.

Cliché as this may sound like, but I believe that things happen for a reason. When those I’ve mentioned unfortunately occurs, think of it as something that sets you in the right direction. Take it as a constant reminder that there is someone else out there that could give you the love that you’ve yearned for, the kind of love that knows no limits and the kind of love that you can give or even greater.

What Depression Really Feels Like

(I was too much drawn on the previous post I've read on Thought Catalog  and this provoked me to blog about it too because I am also one of those people who are experiencing this kind of situation. I didn't mean this to be read by anyone because this would totally be on me, but if you have time to scan through it and see how things circulate in my head, then feel free.)

http://thoughtcatalog.com/ella-ceron/2014/03/10-confessions-of-someone-with-depression/

The truth is I didn't really want to be like this. If there's an easy cure for experiencing depression, I would take it with the blink of an eye. I do not know where it comes from. It's just something that occurs and as much as I wanted to elude it, it's merely impossible to do. It's in me, and I cannot signal it outward my totality as a being. 

Like what I had read, there would be moments in most days where my mind would completely become shut and I would suddenly feel sad for no apparent reason. It could be anywhere, whether it be in class or home, while walking or just sitting across the room. It doesn't really matter. When depression starts to seep in through me, then there is nothing else I could do but to feel it. And it sucks you know, because there would be times when everyone would be enjoying, and I would just want to dissolve into molecules because I cannot take part of that joy with this kind of feeling that I have in me. 

And yes, there would also be blissful days. Days where happiness becomes the victor. Days where I would feel like I'm a completely normal person. Days where my facade would disintegrate and I do not have to try so hard to act like everything is okay, because everything is actually okay. Days where overthinking and anxiety is not a part of my system. 

But these days are rare. And this is the main reason why I cannot let myself dangle on moments where there is completely nothing to do. Because if I would let that happen, a great deal of painful memories would start to permeate in my brain. And so I either write, read, watch a movie, sing, or talk to a friend just to figure out an escape route. 

I've been open about this to everyone and I've never been ashamed about it because that's me. At one point or another, they would notice it because it's not all the time that I could wear a mask and sublimely act and show that I'm perfectly fine- and that's because I'm not and I do acknowledge that fatal flaw. Some may even think that my openness about it demands pity from anyone. And no, it's not demanding pity. It's me trying to explain myself to people because some may not understand why I act peculiar at certain times. And I do know that I could get really selfish when I vent the negative emotions I have regardless of what other people may feel at the moment. I know that I am one of the hardest people to put up with and I am truly sorry for that. But I have to admit that I need help. I've been trying my best to bottle up some of it, but sometimes it's just too much for me to take. 

I am fragile that sometimes I think anything could possibly break me. But then, I was lucky to have friends who understand. People who would not hesitate to listen to you even when you are blabbering the most shallow issues that one could be depressed about. I would forever be indebted to these people. I still have some issues, but I'm trying to gather my composure and to be better at it each passing day because I know I'm not anyone's responsibility... and it's the least I could do repay these people's kindness. 

But you know... some days are just hard. 

Why You Think You Shouldn't, Even Though You Can

Each one of as probably has things in mind that we choose to keep, burdensome secrets that we wish we could simply tell, or emotions and sentiments that we choose to hide in our faked smiles. Blurting it out is always an option, but we choose to shun this idea. Maybe because we are afraid. Or maybe because we lack enough provocation to do so. Or maybe because we merely did not have enough courage. 

I have been pondering on this idea for a while. I have been looking back at some significant memories which could have been altered by simply telling how I really felt with no holds barred. What if I told him that I also love him 2 and 1/2 years ago when he confessed his feelings 1 month after? What if I told him that it felt like a dagger was thrown directly to my heart when he told me that he already loved somebody else right after I confessed to him? What if I told him that I have been under what seemed like a incessant suffering? What if I stopped pretending that it was okay?  It would have been a big relief and things would probably have been very different today. But then, the painful reality dawns again and I start to realize that no matter what I do, I cannot really change what has already conspired. 

So why do we do it? Why do we choose to embrace the pain even though there was an option to release it? I do believe that choosing not to tell is not necessarily wrong. Yes, maybe we are afraid and maybe we feel the pang of confusion. But at the end of the day, we choose to keep these things because in our discernment, it is what we think is right. We become martyrs because  we tend to save people who were supposed to know from melodrama. Because that is how you love. You let yourself become the sacrificial lamb. However, we also have to realize that in doing this, we also salvage ourselves from dealing with more ache that may arise if we tell more than what we were supposed to. And so we simply choose to wait for the memories to become oblivious or maybe unrelentingly wait for the right time. But then we set no lucid definition on "the right time" and so it seems to never come after all.

Whether it is right or not, we have to admit that we still wish we had told them. It maybe too late and may incur no significant bearing on the current situation but at least you were able to tell. At least you stop wondering of endless possibilities. At least you can unload yourself from the extra baggage in your mind and heart. At least you become honest and genuine for once.

 But even if you can, you still think you shouldn't. You wait and wait till you never get to say it. You succumb to the cowardice and fear of the unknown outcome. You decide that you'd rather "not know" than feel more pain because you might simply breakdown if the opposite of what you anticipate happens. You know "it can". We cannot run from the fact that we are not devoid of being hurt, and maybe we acknowledge it too much that we simply ascribe it to the future. 

2 and 1/2 years later, right at this moment, I still choose not to tell even though the love I had once for him has died already. I have to admit that I am afraid of the possibility that the shards of feelings I had would coalesce in a single form and that I would fall but my heart would be broken once again. Because that's what always happens. And ever since that incident, I somehow become calloused. Maybe because I also simply have chosen not to feel again. However, I do wish I could be transparent. I do wish that I am not afraid because I still keep on wondering what could have been. I know I can tell him, but I still think I should not. The right time might never come...