Tag Archives: Love

Post Breakup Rant 2

I can’t believe how optimistic I am sometimes, to the point of being delusional. I believe and hope so hard, trusting that things will turn out alright, although not necessarily to my favor. Alright is just about enough for me. I don’t know how long this optimism lasts before I start feeling jaded again. I don’t want to go back to that place of disillusionment, hopelessness.

So, optimism with a tad bit of delusion will just have to work for me. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. I don’t know. I don’t know what to believe anymore.

Needs and Cheating

Last night’s shrink session with Helga’s LA Ken was a wake up call. I guess I really need things spelled out for me in black and white. Give it to me straight and hard, I said. And straight and hard it was. Thanks H for unknowingly lending me your guy while you were sleeping :p

Among other things discussed is the topic of cheating. Where does one draw the line, really? We all have certain needs, and if the partner fails to fulfill that particular need, what do you do?

a. Nothing
b. Deal with it yourself
c. Go look for others to fulfill it
d. Get pissed/frustrated/annoyed/guilty for even thinking of looking for others to fill that void instead of that person you were counting on

Needs, in this context, do not necessarily mean sexual. It could be a plethora of things. Emotional needs i.e, tenderness, attention, support, as well as intellectual discourse, financial, what have you.

As for my answer, I usually end with with the letter D.

I learned that it is unfair to expect everything from a partner. I used to have lots of expectations from my men, but look where it got me. And thus my mantra, “No expectations, no disappointments”. In my case, however, because I think the world of my partner, when I get disappointed, I really get disappointed. I end up bashing myself for wanting those stupid ~needs~ in the first place. And so, disappointments lead to self-destruction, which leads to feeling helpless and dependent on the partner, which leads again to self-bashing for being heavily invested in someone in the first place. When you’re in too deep, it’s hard to get out. I’m too confused with the vicious cycle that I don’t know what to do anymore.

LA Ken, however, pointed out that I have misplaced guilt. I have been feeling somehow guilty about my perfectly normal ~needs~, not just because the partner doesn’t like it, but also because I have been wondering what it is about me that has not been able to make a man love me for what I am. Why is it that I always feel that I do everything wrong?

Is it the partner’s fault for not realizing your needs? I don’t think so. Not entirely, at least. Although a little intuition and sensitivity would help. It could be yours for not spelling it out properly, by being too vague, or for expecting your partner to pick up the nuances. Of course it would be great to have somebody like that, but one must remember that your partner could be dealing with something at that moment, thus s/he cannot deal with you. The big, common mistake here happens when you would think you are being ignored or not taken care of. This is one of the precious things I’ve learned.

So, cheating. I would be a hypocrite if I’d say the thought never occurred to me. In the rare instances that it did, something heartbreaking must have really happened. But I never brought myself to do it, hell, I do not even step out of the house, much more going out and hooking up with some random guy to have mindless sex.

How does one define cheating, then? Is it when you watch porn? Talking to another person hoping to connect and be understood? Flirting for self-validation? Writing on your blog about the two of you and hitting the publish button and letting the world know? It could be a mindless act, or something you do out of spite just to have that void filled. However you do it, in the end you ask yourself, do I feel guilty?

I asked the Swede once what he thought of cheating, and he said he draws the line at intimacy. I’m an intimacy junkie, so I agreed, and LA Ken thought so too.

“Intimacy is based on shared vulnerability…nothing deepens intimacy like the experiences that we share when we feel flayed, with our skins off, scared and vulnerable, and our partner is there with us, willing to share in the scary stuff.”

-:The Ethical Slut by Dossie Eastman and Katherine Liszt:-

Oh, how I’ve missed it. And you.

Call me cheesy, but…

Let me share my most treasured poem of all time.

Love Sonnet 116
Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no, it is an ever-fixèd mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

If you take the time to figure this poem out, you’ll know he’s right.

Mantra Part 2

A rehash of my old Mantra post. Under different circumstances this time.

First commandment when you’re ABOUT TO pursue a relationship with me.

1. Be intimidated, yes. I can do all sorts of crazy things to you. Call me ball-crusher, drama queen, enchantress, what have you. But thou shall NOT falter. No matter what.

I need to know…something. If you are that Superminion you claim to be.

Strawberry ice cream and other guilty pleasures aside, whenever somebody SCARES me, for some weird reason I end up hurting, and I become a walking disaster. I can’t really explain why I hurt, but I end up being on a self-destruction mode. I end up doing evil, cruel, unthought-of things.

I feel remorse after a while, though. And I hate myself for that.

I actually feel like shit, really. I know I can’t take things back, but don’t hate me. Please.

What Could Have Been, and Then Not.

Dear you,

I cannot do this. We cannot do this.

You have successfully disarmed me, stripped me naked. With what and how, I honestly don’t know. The last few nights have left me utterly overwhelmed. Vulnerable. I’m scared shitless.

Perhaps you think nothing of it; I don’t know what you’re thinking, really. But before this acquaintance gets complicated any further, please understand that I have to nip it at the bud before it blooms into anything and something I will no longer have any control of.

The last few days had me finding slowly reacquainted with the past’s painful shadow. You make me want to wear pink and giggle. Tolerate dickery and playfulness. Run barefoot through Freedom Park’s grassy field. Chain smoke and roll some joints of Sagada weed. Chug down a few bottles of beer in some dimly lit bar. Pout and rant and make pakipot like a 5-year old and still expect to be chased after a huge fight. Prove to you that I’m the coolest girlfriend you can ever have. You make me want to take care of you, to fuss over you, to be falsely mad at you so you will quit smoking. You make me blush unashamedly every time you catch me off guard. You make me realize what I have been yearning and missing out all this time – tenderness.

But I cannot allow her to resurface. She always gave everything she had, and when she did, she became self-destructive. What you have experienced in this brief encounter is a glimpse of a ghost, vainly trying to get out. What she doesn’t know is that she is dead.

You asked me that one thing that can make me truly happy. I think I can answer that now.

It’s coming into terms with myself, and living with the resolve that I will not allow myself to be that vulnerable and giving and stupid again.

I don’t know how I would live with myself after this, but I had a life before you. And I was fine with that. It was cold, lonely. But it made my heart intact, from breaking further from what remains of its shattered state. But you and your quiet strength make a mockery of what I have carefully crafted to protect myself all these years – trying to appear like I have it altogether, that I am strong, impenetrable. The Bitch Goddess.

I cannot, must not fall for you. And so forgive me for what I am about to do to you.

I’m walking away.

And this, perhaps, is the most selfish decision I have ever made. And I know I will regret it.

Take care, big guy. I could have almost loved you.