Dear ____, 

Okay, you know what, I know how you feel. Maybe that’s why there is this very subtle hidden connection between us. I don’t know your motives. I’m not sure about mine either. But I know how it feels.

Except you’ve reached that higher level and it probably made everything hurt more. But with the same logic you told me about the people around that person, I could be hurt less, but multiple, multiple times.

Thanks for trusting me. At first I was just entertained because I knew something more again, but really, I sympathized with you more. I didn’t tell that person. After what I found out I don’t think I’m telling him.

(I could just take revenge with you… kidding.)

You crazy person. How could you have put up with that person all this time? And you might still want it? I don’t even get what I deserve now.

I swear that I understand you. Maybe not the same way. But I understand the pain. All right, it may be completely different, but we’re somehow in the same situation.

(When presented with the opportunity and of course timely sadness, should I open up to you? Of course I’m not going to tell you the entire truth. But how about my pains, somehow? Or will you catch on? I can’t forget that I might turn myself into your enemy if I give too much information… Or can I turn you into my comrade?)

We’ll see each other. We’ll hang out. As you wanted to.

I wonder what’s going to happen next.

It was about what you and I don’t deserve.

All the things you’ve done to hurt me.

All the places I’ve brought you, all the happenings to which you left me uninvited.

Then about how I’ve hidden all the sins I committed against you because they could outweigh how much you’ve hurt me (no, maybe not).

I have so much power to hurt you especially with the events unfolding recently. But I don’t. The more you may hurt me, the more I will really be tempted.

But I never cried over you or whatever pain you’ve caused me.

You know what? He wouldn’t hurt me because he could be sensitive. He knows how to commit. Too much for you? Good, you didn’t deserve it. Nevertheless, I feel like I lose hope because I don’t know if I can feel for someone else again the same way I’ve felt for you and at the same time feel that way for the right person. By right, I mean good for me.

I am so much more sensitive than you are. You love me? Then you don’t even know what love is. I learned a lot because of what I’ve gone through after meeting you. I still find it funny how you’re a part of me, half of my high school life. 

I know all these feelings were much more intense last year. My feelings aren’t as intense but things are just different.

I really hard a hard time deciding but I made up my mind. Don’t make me regret it.

Are the root of heartache (William Shakespeare, not verbatim).

She’s the type of person who keeps giving hints and it doesn’t help.

“He’s not ______. You know his situation. We were talking about it. You should wait for Valentines’.”

“I’ll give you a gift on Valentines’.”

“I know you’re still mad at me for not giving you a corsage!”

“I know why he said that. But I won’t tell. I promised him. I’ll tell you in the right time.”

This is so confusing, and I just have to wait for February 14 to find out the truth, so I’m just going to suffer from two weeks of expectation. I have this other friend, she understands what I’m talking about. She tells me it’s really nothing.

I think too fast and it’s annoying.

She always does this. She feels that she knows something. She makes that known by giving hints. For your own sake….

I keep thinking. I think faster than I understand. She did help me. 

“Oh gosh, don’t expect anything. It’s nothing, swear. (This is me trying to help.)” 

She also helped me last year when my heart ached so much after finding out… That that spot of yours was someone else’s.

Yes, Tumblr. It may not be the entire disease but I’m getting it again. It started on my birthday. Then everything that happened last night until morning. That I will explain some other time. I already made a draft with all the uncensored details and emotions but it will stay a draft.

What could have happened is such a haunting ghost. Every sweet drop of poison I end up consuming is killing me slowly. Well, it’s actually not that intense.

I need to stop thinking. I’m just going to get hurt in the end. I’m just going to get hurt again. 

By the way, that decision I’m supposed to make… If you’re leaving that spot unfilled, so am I. My pride is there. I felt like I’d be full of pride if I get that kind of revenge on you.

But the sudden expectations of what you might do is torturing me and it’s going to change that decision as well.

The first time I faced the fork, my expectations were on the negative and that was good. Then suddenly the truth (the timeworn truth) was that it was a yes. Is that why I’m expecting things now?

This was all supposed to be done. This was supposed to be over. I was supposed to be over you. 

For this kind of inner drama to happen this late in the year, it’s so… Because of all these debuts where I encounter you… I actually encounter you quite a lot. I’m starting to remember how it did feel to have that disease. Earlier on I didn’t even remember how I felt.

Temptations. Poison. What if, what could have happened, what might happen.

I always thought you were dense. No, at first I thought there was always that mature person deep inside you. A person who remembers. A person who is like me. I grew tired of believing in you and believed that you were dense, that you don’t know how to follow schedules, that you are numb and you don’t get hurt.

It took you being in that d state for me to realize everything.

What if this is not over? Can something ever be over? (Yes… it can… It’s not like it’s going to be like this my entire life. This is just a phase.) Will I end up confessing one of these days?

And I am just screaming putangina at the top of my lungs. G 3rd octave.

I just don’t know what to do. What is the point of putting a title like I usually do if I’m not even going to exercise my nonexistent writing skills and revolve around that word?

I’ve been negative today, questioning myself as to why we’re even being made to do this paper, and the more I type, the more I consume time. But either way, I barely did anything. I hope I could just raise the grade. It’s so low.

Because of what happened last Saturday I felt like my thoughts made me sip into that mental aphrodisiac with which I’ve become intoxicated two years ago. It’s just so tempting to fall in love again. But I’m just going to get hurt, and hurt, and hurt…

That stupid paper made me get a real headache. In all honesty it ruined my (real) 18th birthday. I felt it the least this year, I guess. (Yes, I even celebrated it but that’s a long story…) 

I just don’t know what that teacher wants. It’s just so hard to do all these things when we keep on assuming. It’s not like everything was explained to us.

And how can you honestly replace three working days with one?! No one’s complaining anymore because people don’t really care and people don’t really want to finish their work anymore but I need to finish my work and I never not finished it. I’m going to rush so much tomorrow and hate the world.

I feel bad because I’ve been making crappy palancas for retreats, and since we’re in the last section, I’ll probably just get what I gave. I really want to write for more poeple but I just can’t… 

You. Thanks for the Christmas and birthday gifts. Now I’m making my mom rush photocopies for you just so I can give you a Christmas + birthday gift, but I’m going to ask my classmate to give it to your classmate since they’re neighbors and I’m just like… so that means I have to give it to her tomorrow… Ugh.

I just don’t want to work I just want to sleep I just want to have nothing to do I fear my college life now I was actually quite positive about it earlier…

There’s a big difference between being optimistic and being ignorant.

It’s actually the best way to look at my tumblelog in my opinion. (And I am not bothering to put a Read More link on this one. I’m sorry for your Dashboard.)

I still had enough time then to clear all my Drafts and make sure all my planned posts were posted. Not the same in this case.

Wow, 2011 just passed. And I still keep thinking about 2010. In fact, when I remember about “the past”, I realized that it’s really 2010 that I’m thinking about. In half an hour, it’s going to be 2012, and I have both 2010 and 2011 at the back of my mind (actually, just “certain parts” of 2010, meaning the things I wrote about right here).

Years are starting to get shorter and shorter, much to short to remember what happens in between those days and weeks and months of an eventful life. 

My life’s like an archive. I really just keep certain memories. Certain significant memories. I’m really the type who doesn’t want to let go. I don’t let go. Sure, I can get over someone, but I’m still going to say that I’m glad it happened (and it’s funny that it happened) so I’m not letting go of the fact that it made my life pretty interesting.

What lies at the very end of the archive, those things that started from my birth, they just get more vague and blurred as time passes. 

And while I’m at the topic of time that passes, I’ll talk about growing older. I don’t know. Things are starting to matter less. I’m starting to see a more diverse world. And I’ve been believing less that I will be so attracted to one person again and care so much for that person who should fit all my moral and character-related standards, ‘cause it seems like I’ll only either meet someone I’ll fall in love with or meet someone who’s right for me. I’m not depressed, and I don’t feel like I’m being negative, but it just feels like that’s really the truth if I’m going to have to marry in around a decade.

It’s a good thing I’ve improved even a little socially. Just a little. I still haven’t met that many people and I’m still stuck with you but I hope I’ll meet the right people next year.

This was also the year people just kept on telling me I got thinner. Well. I just gained a little of what I lost this month. Great. Who wouldn’t be glad about looking better? I’m just glad about the blessings of the physique passed on to me. Otherwise being this fat wouldn’t make me look that good. I’d insert laughter but I try to be more literate in this place. I guess it’s not a place for humor. I haven’t changed. Since 2010 when you told me I was pretty a day after we met I’ve been looking at myself at the mirror almost every day.

Have I been too focused on something less important than what I should remember for my 2011? Still, my feelings weren’t as strong (or at least when I got over you, I couldn’t remember how strong they were). Nothing compared to my attachment in 2010 yet I can’t remember the intensity. It’s like amnesia.I thought a certain story ended last summer but it got another volume come June. You… and he. And I just got everything. I caught all your tears and lent my ear to all your stories of excitement. 

All this time from 2010, your story was my story.

But this makes me realize… I’m not even you. You called me your best friend and you tell other people, too, but still. 

The story is my life is not the story of yours.

I don’t even realize that I’ve done a lot this year. It was just one thing after the next. I had no time to look back, maybe. Things go by faster and I have less time to savor every moment.

Such as now.

Fireworks outside and I haven’t seen a single one.

Noise increasing (with pollution).

I’m carrying concerns and “problems” and to-do lists from 2011 to 2012. Maybe I’ll make resolutions when it’s 2012 already.

But I’m heading into 2012 like it’s another morning when I don’t know what’s going to happen next. (And now that I’ve finally finished typing, I’m going to see those fireworks outside my house. 15 minutes until it’s the next year.)