Missing Michael

Some nights, I want to write you a hello.

I can't. My fingers freeze at the keyboard now

at the sight of your name.

I remember how free they felt.

How they articulated relentlessly

when I wrote you good mornings.

I remember I used to sit you down,

and I told you how much I loved you.

Even when you were asleep, I kept

writing at the sight of you.

Paragraphs and sentences, and the commas

kept coming, skipping the period.

I wish I can hold you one more time.

One last time.

I wish I can ask you to stay with me

longer in the car at night.

I never regret a single minute of it,

because I know I'll need it someday

when I let you go.

I don't know where you are now,

but I hope you are well.

If I can kiss you one last time.

I'd ask for a second kiss.

And then another one.

Until I keep on kissing you,

until I can buy more time.

I wish I can lay in bed with you for a few minutes.

And then I'd ask for ten more.

Until we fall asleep in each other's arms,

and we never have to part for the night

like the few nights we shared in the past.

I wish I can see your face again,

instead of getting my fill of it on my phone screen.

I wish I can touch your cheeks again.

And hold your hand in the car.

And brush your hair.

And see you across the table.

One last time.

And maybe we can forget what went wrong between us.

Maybe we can forget what is wrong between us.

Forget that we're not meant for each other.

Just one last time? For as long as my heart

get its fill of happiness again.

I really only wished to be loved.

The same way I loved you because 

I am not going to lie, I truly loved you

more than you have loved me.

And I still do. I keep wishing for one last time.

One last time...? For a few more minutes...?

Stay with me for a few more minutes...?

Let's talk about the tree branches,

and how the squirrels are friendly.

Let's talk about how it's dark at night,

and how our eyes see more colors in the day.

Let's get ice cream...? 

Outside Texas

I am convinced,

without a doubt,

that love, for me,

is not in Texas.

He's in Seattle,

on a bench by

a park that houses

a playground of laughter

despite gray skies.

And what if he's in Boston?

He's leaning against the walls

of a museum.

Rebelling against the signs

that proclaim of its prohibition.

He puts art to shame.

Perhaps, he's lost in Brooklyn.

He crosses all lines and bridges,

but never pays for it.

His terracotta coat blends with the bricks.

He wants to be lost in the rust of the city.

Montana sings of home for him.

As the horses run wild and free,

he sings of his tunes.

He plucks every string.

He plucks every thing.

Dear Philly, will you bring him to me?

I think he runs the length of the city

to get to the shop that sells old vinyls

and smells of fresh roses from next door.

Maybe, just maybe, he'll love me, too.

But Texas never felt home to me.

He's always hurt me, 

and I don't think my heart could forget.

If it could, I would not be looking for love,

anywhere... other than here..

Michael in October {#2}

Some time in October,
electricity lit up the city,
like it does everyday;
however, on the 23rd,
I actually felt it.
I always knew
that the clouds float above me,
that the sun burns my eyes
and how bright things can make you cry, too,
that the hot water from the shower
feels like rain except
it actually stung when it's
not supposed to.
But some time in October,
I notice the sky was actually a dome
that encloses a safe place
the earth, our home.
The sun hurts me in many ways,
but in October,
I felt grateful for how it
allows vegetation, and beach days,
and sun-kissed skin, and California,
and summer flings, and sunflowers, too.
And when it rained,
I felt it, too.
Except I wasn't in the shower.
I was at Pickard Hall.
And you were in line by the nursing office,
and I was in the bathroom,
and yes I did notice you.
And yes, I chose to walk past you.
Because Michael,
that rainy morning,
it was not in the shower that I felt the rain.
I felt it the day I first saw you.
And unlike my hot showers,
it did not sting much.
But I had to walk past you.
Because the moment I recognized you,
I already knew, like my hot showers,
it's bound to sting soon.
When it's not supposed to.
October always felt like autumn,
because it is autumn, and with the leaves,
I fall for you, too.
Leaf by leaf, day by day.
Heart beat by heart beat.
But we both know that heartbeats
are just contractions of the heart that
eject volume to feed oxygen to our body.
But no, let me have my October.
Let me take a step back and not be like you,
who only lived to charge his phone,
and said that the clouds look like cotton candy,
and that Texas summers are the best,
and thought that rainy days are inconvenient
while laughing at the classic joke
that your car will get into an accident because of the sky.
In October, let me be not like you.
Let me feel October with my heart
and appreciate it like how I would a masterpiece.
Because you made it that way Michael.
You made Octobers make me feel every bit of it.

Of Michael {#1}

It hurts. But I must go on, mustn't I?

And I keep rewatching the movie,

examining each frame of the film,

rewinding the bar to 10:23,

fast-forwarding and pausing,

trying to read between the lines,

trying to look for the first signs of trouble

not just in you,

but in me, too.

And I don't want to admit this,

but I've always known all this time,

I just didn't want to face it.

That you bring out the worst in me,

as I do with you.

But I loved you. And you loved me.

And we said that a million times.

And shouldn't that have been enough?

But then again, I've always known

all this time,

that it wasn't and will never be.

And you see evil in me,

as I do in you,

but everyone has a little evil in them.

It is just that you chose to see that first,

and I did, too.

And it made me believe 

that I was as bad of a woman

as I have felt when I was with you.

So I started becoming it.

Trying to find justification for

your perception that I needed to merit.

The trick is, love, to believe in me.

To always let me know that I had good in me.

Have I not done that? Did you not hear that

enough from me? I guess it was a bad trick.

It was a mess.

Shattered glass on the floor.

Wallpapers torn off the walls.

Hangers dangling by the cabinet,

with no hints of you and me.

And maybe I could have kept you longer.

Maybe, had I just been less smart.

Less ambitious.

Less loud.

less disappointing.

Less of everything that I can do.

Maybe, just maybe, you would still be here.

But confidence was arrogance to you.

My ambitions towered your reality.

And the constant cheer I hear from the background,

was food for my ego in your eyes.

And the worst me that you saw,

as terrible as this might sound,

was already the best suppression of who I really am.

What more if I stripped myself naked?

More naked than when I take my clothes off in front of you.

And you realize that I could be worse in your eyes?

I lived this prison for some time now.

Of sleeping behind bars,

whose coldness cannot be felt by my fingertips.

And maybe I belong here.

But maybe, I don't.

I traced back to before I met you.

Looked at myself in the eyes of past lovers.

Heard my names in the sound of different voices.

And remembered who I was and can be,

in each pair of arms.

I was different in all,

but all pieces were truly of me.

I can't seem to show you this abstract I made

because you think badly of the cloth that hung over it.

So I let you walk out of the glass door.

Turned off the lights.

And locked the museum as I go home.

And you have your pains, too,

of which I cannot fathom as I cannot be you.

And you could write about them,

as beautifully or as painfully as you want.

But I have to let you go.

Because words are words,

and I only make up a letter in your sentence,

and won't ever be the dot that finishes it.

I have to understand that as much as you hurt me,

I have hurt you as badly, too.

And we're going to put a comma on that.

Or a semicolon.

Where you can start writing again.

Where you can be happy somewhere else.

Where you can fit in the puzzle more perfectly.

More comfortably.

More symmetrically.

Than you ever did with me.

DIARY: A Little Older, a Little Wiser

     Hello, blogbear! Hope you are doing well. Happy New Year to us! Remember to live each day as it is, and that it is okay to sometimes forget to live each day as it is. I have been gone for some time, and in all honesty, the reason I am writing again is because it is the 1st day of January, which gives me an excuse to do something "new."

     I am probably just going to write about myself again. I don't think a lot of my readers are interested in that anymore anyways. I find it easier to write when I write for myself instead of writing for others; however, I would like to entertain y'all as well. We have the comment section to interact with each other, and I hope y'all utilize it if y'all want to.

     Back in 2016, I know I wrote about how I found it so hard to love myself. I read through my posts, and I can't help but feel indifferent towards them now. My mind tells me I was in pain, but my heart can't seem to remember that pain anymore. I have fortunately grown out of that dark place. I do not regret all of it. I think, if it wasn't for that phase, I would not be able to understand myself and others well enough. It is a journey, dear blogbear. There will be rocks. There will be mountains to climb. Some days, you will have to walk the deserts without your fluffy slippers on. Some nights, you have to camp in the middle of the woods in a small, $30 Walmart tent. You will get scratched from the thorns of wild plants as you go off-trail in the forests, and you will sweat a lot under the heat of the sun. But you will get there. Being happy with and loving yourself is a journey. You can't skip the distance. You have to walk all its lengths. And when you get to your destination, to the point where you realize yourself is someone worth of the love you deserve, you will find out that the journey does not end there. The journey never ends. Your destinations are just check points. The journey of life keeps on and on, just with different adventures as you go. 2016, you made a stronger me. 2016 was the year of realizing my strengths and weaknesses. Of realizing that I live in a world that can be seen at different angles. And that the person who could not see and rejoice my strengths was better off somewhere else where his weak person would fit more. He simply was not for me.

     2017, though, was different. I think I have a lot to say about this year. The last half of 2016, I healed enough to finally open my heart to dating again. Long story short, it still did not end well. If anything, it turned out to be the worst. Well, worst in some aspects. It was rather a learning experience that, although was bittersweet and painful, I would never regret. I would not want to have it any other way either. The beginning of this year, I felt like a new person having to start over in Texas leaving the shelled and insecure Czarina back in Pennsylvania. I felt like I could do anything and be anyone who I wanted to be, and so I did. I started my new classes at the University of Texas at Arlington. I met someone and fell in love once more, giving love one more try. I thought to myself that I can love someone new now since I now know my worth and demanded to be treated according to my worth, and so I did. This person, though, taught me a lot about love. In summary, he helped me grow and make big leaps as a person but also managed to tear me down every so often. I can't really put it in a summary that makes sense because it is just too darn long and eventful. I learned that I crave honesty more than anything else. I learned that no matter how good a man treats you, if you are missing something, you'll make them settle and they will just look for whatever's missing in you in others. It was one thing to be tempted, but it was another to act upon it. I do thank him, though. I have never felt so aggressively fought for my entire life. To me, I think seeing him want to change and fight for me was already enough; however, not enough to make me want to keep him. I started out with enough confidence to keep moving; he helped me build this confidence as we went on, and in the end, he managed to tear it down as well. Because of him, I was left with absolutely nothing. In all aspects, I had nothing. I had to start over, but this time, with shame, anger, and little respect for myself. 2017, you own my lowest lows. I had some growing up to do. A friend told me that "when you hit rock bottom, you can't go any lower" to which I replied, "if you're at the bottom, all you can do is look and go up." I did just that. I had nothing. Absolutely nothing. I dropped out of 2 of my classes. I cried in my room for weeks. My mind was conditioned to crave him. My parents had to transfer me to Tarrant County College because they saw how much it affected me. I hated where I was. It was not the most painful, but it sure damn was the hardest. He simply was not for me. I looked up, and I prayed to God. And guess what? He answered me.

     2018 was the year of my highest highs. 2018 will always be the fruit of a love I had from someone who has helped me get back on my feet. I could have been told that I needed no one to do that. God could have just let me heal on my own, and yes, I could have healed on my own; however, I think God knows me so well. He knew that I had a lot of pride in myself, and making me survive this new low would have fed that pride a lot, I probably would have disconnected myself from everyone thinking I can do everything on my own. But God knows me so well, so He knew I had to heal by letting someone help me so that I do not think highly of myself. He knew I love the idea of love, anyways, so He probably hit two birds with one stone. I can only sing and praise 2018. I can only thank the man, who, although lied to me, brought out the best in me. If it weren't for him cheering me on sincerely everyday, reminding me that I can do all things and that he waited for me for a reason, I probably would not have seen the best side of me. I will forever remember his eyes and the way they looked at me as if I was the only woman in the world. I will forever rejoice the lips that told me of my strengths. Looking back, it was all perspective. I am not the best, nor the prettiest or smartest, and for the longest time, I struggled with that because Nathan reminded me of that reality, and Ben showed me that reality with his choices, but because of that man in uniform believing that I was, I became. I felt the smartest, the prettiest, the best self I possibly could ever be. Because of this, I have woke up everyday having the strength to carry the burdens of life on my own. It was an experience that I will never forget, and it has been almost a year now... and usually, I forget pains in the first half of the year, but what he has made me felt still lingers in my heart. Every now and then, whenever I am down, I bring out that box hidden away in my heart and find strength in him. God tested me, though. I have always been a woman of my own principles. I proudly said that I hold honesty above love, and God is sometimes sneaky like that. He put me to the test where I have to choose my greatest source of happiness or my own value. The man lied to me, and to me, this was God's way of seeing whether I learned anything from all my struggles with pain and dishonesty. I knew better and left. Most unfortunately, he... was not for me. 2018, you own my highest highs.

     2019, I can't help but feel excited for you. You are so young, and I have grown old. I can't say much about 2019 other than its youth. We're going to do good, yes? All I ask of you is to be kind to me, and in return, I will conquer you.

DIARY: 1 of 365

     Hello, blogbear! It is now day 1 of 365 for the year of 2019. I keep making all these "I am back" entries, and it's pointless, really. I keep making all these promises about blogging, but I never seem to see them all through. We'll see how it goes for this year.
     How have you all been? Let me know how y'all have been. I think the last time I wrote a post was October of 2016. That's more than a year and a half ago! I have been riding the waves of life like everyone does. I look back on all of my previous posts, and I can't help but feel all sorts of things toward them. I laugh, smile, ache a little, feel relieved, cringe, and whatnot. One thing I learned for sure, though, is that life is so fascinatingly unpredictable. It just darn is. All the cliche things that I used to hear when I was an angsty teenager make sense to me now as an adult. Be yourself. Never settle. Everything will be fine. No pain lasts forever. All that cliche stuff that we were all tired of hearing back then make so much sense and mean so much more now. I can't say that my life will stay the same. I can't predict where life is going to take me, and as much death anxiety I have in my blood, I can't help but feel excited thinking I don't know where life is going to take me. I think everyone should realize this. And yes, dear blogbear, we all grow wiser as we age. :)

PS: I'll post another update shortly after this.