Some things don’t change

He gave me love letters. Those were the first love letters I received.

He has a pair of deep, beautiful dimples. Whenever he smiled at me, flashing those dimples, my breath was taken away. He was simply gorgeous.

He was so persistent, following me wherever I went. He sat with me in the library. Every time I turned the page of the book I was reading, he would turn it back. Until he succeeded in getting my attention, my heart included.

He was smart. He was tall, dark, and drop-dead handsome. There was no single day that passed that he didn’t piss me off. But it was the kind that melted my heart.

He was so sweet he’ll knock you off his feet. And he was capable of making you laugh so hard until your stomach hurts.

He was a very thoughtful person. He sent me flowers and a handwritten love letter all the way from the other side of the world.

He was full of surprises. The best part—he always stole kisses on me especially when I was mad.

Each of these men who came and went in my life, left a permanent trace of memory that no matter how much I try to forget, I can’t. When I see a familiar place or hear a certain song, every single memory I had with them comes playing in the background, like everything just happened yesterday. These are the things that will never, ever change.

But while they left something for me to remember with, they also took a piece of my heart that I, up to now, am still trying to piece back all together.

I fell in love with each of them. I fell so deeply in love that I forgot about a very important person—myself. Because of this, I journeyed on finding the love in myself so I can love again with my whole heart.

For more than two years in this journey, I am not very sure if I did progress at all. But I did feel a sense of fulfilment, a sense of being me. Those many weekends that I celebrated alone and those times I did things alone—running, shopping, going home, watching a movie, and sleeping, I felt something so powerful that I never felt before: confidence, a breath of fresh air, and bliss. But more importantly, I realized that no matter how small the piece of my heart that is left, I am still capable of loving again.

I do not know when I will ever have that beautiful love story like many of the people around me did. But even if I am uncertain of time, I will still believe. I will believe that the love that is meant for me will someday get its way to me.

For while some things don’t change, some things do.

Love has a habit of coming back

When I started working right after graduation a year and a half ago, it was also the start when my last relationship became topsy-turvy, hot and cold, and formidably painful.

For the first two months I was away from Mr. Heartache, I still tried to fix what seems to be going on between us. And with that two effing months, I became completely the woman I am not. I ran onto him. I shut my eyes off from the reality that he is already seeing someone else. I kept on lying to myself that even though our relationship is already shaky, at the end of the day, he will come to me, kiss my forehead and would whisper: I will stay with you.

But none of that happened.

I cried it all out and buried myself into mounds of office works and various activities. I got myself even busier. Until my heart got tired of fixing something I cannot really repair anymore. Until my eyes got exhausted from crying over the same shit (Pardon me for the word. I guess that’s just really the most suited word to describe it) over and over again.

And with all the strength I can summon, I gathered myself up, held my own hand and finally decided to move on.

After this ordeal I’ve been through, I already told myself I should not allow the same s*** happen to me ever again.  And I promised myself that if ever I fall in love again, I’ll make sure I won’t undergo the same vicious cycle of heartbreak anymore.

But just when you’ve thought you’ve moved on and thought you’ve finally gone far enough, something brings you to a touchstone and that’s when you realize that love has a habit of coming back.

 

(Originally written last October. ^^)

Knock me off my feet: Mr. Charmer

It took me a couple of months before finally completing this post because every time I try to start writing about this, I find myself groping for words. And for a person who was born with a pen in her hand, this is something out of the ordinary.

As I recount my relationship with Mr. Charmer, running out of words seem equally fitting.

Like my favorite blogger said, “We all have that guy in our lives. The one we meet in some peculiar way and instantly, our whole world comes crashing down around us. Each barrier we set up to keep our hearts and bodies safe is utterly destroyed, and suddenly, we’re standing there exposed and vulnerable to any and every charm this man throws our way.”

And as peculiar as it was, Mr. Charmer and I met when I was in my second year in college, the year when I first experienced the life at night in the city. Prior to our bar hopping, I and my cousin first went to meet her friends in a certain bar, somewhere scary and smoky (I thought it’s scary ‘coz you can barely recognize people’s faces and all that’s visible are cigarette smokes). As a usual scenario in places like those, people (men) would come sit next to you and do that well-rehearsed introduction of them and end up exchanging numbers and getting you a bottle of beer. That time, I was texting with friend M and told her the name of this man who’s so persistent in talking to me. At the mention of the name, M replied with a surprised disbelief: “What?! Mr. Charmer?!” Oh no. I said. Their names are just sound-alike. But the one M was referring to was a person I never heard of. Yet.

We went to another bar. While I was dancing in the middle of everybody else, a man with a nose and big goofy grin with a 5’9” frame came dancing close to me. He told me his name and I was as surprised as what my friend M’s reaction was. “What?! Mr. Charmer?!” and this guy was utterly surprised as well on how I came to know his name. “It’s a long story,” I said. But with that sheepish grin he had, I can say he got really, really interested. He asked for my phone number.

For several days, we exchanged text messages and dated for some time. After a week or two, I was totally hooked. During that time, we were still both in a relationship. But for whatever reason, we just fell into each other’s arms very, very naturally. The way he wrapped his arms around me was very passionate like the way he kissed me. But after some months, we decided to part ways and since then we went back to our own worlds.

After a couple of years, just in time when I and S broke up, I was walking down an overpass, my face drifting blankly, then out of the blue, we bumped into each other. Love struck, he let out that smile which always melted me away. Then we ended exchanging mobile numbers again since we both had lost connection since the last time we saw each other.

Two months after my break-up with S, Mr. Charmer and I went dating again. And everything between us fell into places as natural as the blinking of an eye.

Since I never really forgot about him, I fell for him as easy as I did when we first met. He had this natural charm that made me swoon over him. He was sweet, funny, fit and sporty, tall, with friends everywhere, he was open and he was damn good-looking. He knew exactly when to talk and when to listen. And after a series of dates, I found out he was still a great kisser. And even though, I was still hesitant to enter another relationship after my dreadful break up, he held me very gently, kissed my forehead, looked at me in the eyes and said, “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

For months, we enjoyed our relationship with so much passion and sweetness. We spent almost every day going to places, watching movies, cooking together, walking and talking up to the wee hours in the morning. We simply can’t get enough of each other. The love between us grew effortlessly, passionately, and burning with energy that neither of us can deny. It was very… natural.

When he kissed me, the world around me literally stopped and I can literally hear my heart beat. His touch turned my knees into jelly. His smile and the way he looked at me sent butterflies inevitably, crazily bouncing in my stomach. His effect on me was… addictive… so captivating… and I became less and less powerful around him.

Everything seemed very perfect between us. We shared each other’s failures and successes. We cried and laughed together. He supported every endeavor I was in. He came when I needed someone to burst all my angst and depressions. Literally, he was always around.

But the world suddenly turned upside down between us. He became suddenly cold and unusually unaffectionate. Before, he would always find reasons to escape from his usual getaways with his friends just to be with me but it suddenly became the opposite. And the thing I always feared that’ll happen came straight to my face.

He was seeing someone else.

For a couple of months, our relationship became hot and cold, steady and frail. I chose to stay and believed in his promises even though every sign were vividly obvious that something fishy was going on. I came to the point when I grew tired of the cycle—this week, he’s mine and the following week he’s hers. The cycle was vicious… and painful. I asked him to choose between us but he said he can’t, he won’t and he preferred not to.

I gave a month for the two of us to get ourselves fixed and settle whatever mess is going on between us. I didn’t want our relationship to crash, nor to lose him in my life. When I thought everything was getting better between us, I settled for another chance and neither between us talked about the other party. We tried to get the pieces back together and once again surrendered in his arms. We were already doing well until one day…

…pictures of him and the gal paraded his FB account plus consistent posts of sweet nothings between them. I didn’t know how to react about it at first. The sight of it felt like a million stab in my heart and made me feel like I am the biggest fool in the entire universe. I felt devastated. I felt betrayed and belittled because at the course of those events, we were still going out and all I thought we were already back in the water. But for the nth time around, I was wrong.

After my break up with S, I told myself to be more careful whenever I get smitten with another dashing man. But when I fell in love with Mr. Charmer, I found myself very powerless around him. He became my top priority. His needs became supreme while mine became secondary. I unconsciously deserted other people around me. My world revolved around him. He became my everything. Even though the pain constantly tortured and daunted me with countless nights of crying over the mess going on, I simply couldn’t leave because I was afraid that all the love I tried hard to build and keep between us might just go to waste. Or was I just smitten with the idea of his promises?

Until it dawned on me that I had no other option left but to finally let go.

With all the courage I can fetch, I decided to shut off my communications with him. It was the least I can think of to start moving on. I changed my number. I deleted him on my FB and FS accounts. I restrained from texting him. And I stopped stalking on his FB account. It wasn’t really easy. But somehow, cutting the connections between us helped a lot in taking me back to my senses.

We did not formally end our relationship but I know (and knew) we were leading to nowhere anymore. I still miss him and maybe still love him at that, but there’s no more turning back, even if I want to. If I once again let my obsession rule over me, it will only mean welcoming another heart break. If ever my heart breaks again, I’d wish it won’t be from the same man. I’d be a fool if I returned to a relationship which did far more harm to me than it did good.

For the first time in year, I felt my love for him felt somehow… wrong.

He was a good man though. I won’t ever forget the happiness that he once brought me nor the love we shared. For five-long months, he helped me through some difficult times and he showed how much proud he was to me. But things between us did not work out the way I wished them to be. It entails tons of courage to finally walk away and it wasn’t really easy. But it is indeed possible.

This morning, when I looked in the mirror, I saw a reflection of a woman who is far more confident than she was with Mr. Charmer—more vibrant, more beautiful, stronger, and happier and is surrounded with people who really cares about her.

And every time I look back, I heave a sigh of relief realizing that in a very long time, I had the feeling that I was right where I am supposed to be.

I might have been a fool for allowing myself to be hurt by the same man over and over again but at least I came out a very different person, the person I always wanted to be. After all, the pains he inflicted me taught me to love myself more and there is no greater love than self-love.

Mr. Charmer was an incredible person who effortlessly knocked-me-off my feet. I just hope that when he remembers our times together he still smiles. I wish him nothing else but happiness and contentment in life. And as for myself, I am already getting to where I want to be—success in my profession, love of my family and friends, getting to places I love to go, meeting new, different people and enjoying constantly falling in love with myself.

 (Thanks to one of my favorite bloggers who inspired me to finally come up with this post. I owe some exact words to her as she was able to completely define what I felt about this certain relationship)