Monday, September 21, 2009

Ironies of the Heart

Those who cheat get away from their cheating, while the people who tries to nurture and care for their relationships gets a whopping swoop to the head.

I can still remember the first day I wanted to blog. Because I needed to vent out about this boy that I hate. I hated him because I had the longest one-month relationship with him. I experienced a whirlwind of emotions, happiness, sadness, and you know all the euphoria of being in love. But then he had to take his space and forgot about me, the one who did all the defending on why he needed space, on how he should be taking his studies seriously and couldnt be responsible of me at the moment.

And then I moved on, I figured, if he was really for me, then the Supreme Being will cast his spell on him and make him fall in love with me again.

After four years, he did.

After four years of breaking up with a current boyfriend so we could date, passing up a potential suitor so we could be together, the forces of nature acted by letting a snatcher take my whole bag and made me email everyone on my fonebook, including HIM.

He was the one who brighten up my days (no pun intended). He made sure I get home safe even if our houses were on very different locations. He waves the white flag whenever I am on red alert. He puts up with all of my childishness and foolishness. He LOVED me. And so did I.

But approximately 40 months, he stopped. Was it my fault? Partly. Did I do everything to get him back, I think I did. Did I begged him to reconsider? Yep, my sources and the magic 8 ball says so.

In light of the situation, if you would ask me, I am still hopeful. Hopeful of the fact that when he said forever and ever, it is indeed, forever and ever. It pains my heart to explain, even to myself why it happened. Tita says, suicide is still not an option, nor the large rugby he bought for me last time I ruined my shoes. I am hopeful, because I feel that his dad wanted me to be part of their family when a butterfly visited me after his death. I am hopeful, because I am stronger than Samson, even with an odd haircut. I am hopeful because I bring luck to my life.

If everything fails, I know someone up there who will nudge him to take me back. Or wake someone who will last the real forever and ever.

Until then, I'm keeping my heart. And stitching the wounds first. After all, four years is a long wait. And I'm still sane, still me, and painfully smiling. :P

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