Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Good Love Letters


I find myself writing letters when sometimes, I feel that I can’t be strong enough to say everything I have to say in front of that person. I’ve always considered myself who mixes up words in my head and ends up saying words that would just make everything worse when I was actually intending to do otherwise.

I admit writing letters in situations when I know shouldn’t, when I know I should be saying these words instead of writing them. I’ve done this a number of times, mainly because I couldn’t think of a better way of expressing myself. Sometimes it feels wrong, but most of the time, I just feel that I have no choice.

But writing letters is an art. Sure, there are letters you write just to say something, but there are letters that are sent not only to be read, but more importantly, to be felt by the recipient just how much the letter writer has poured out her feelings into words that would hopefully be enough to make the recipient feel what the sender wishes he or she would. I’m not good at writing letters. Most of the time, they just seem like I’m talking to myself with the other recipient simply eavesdropping. I write with much thought. Sometimes too cheesy, but I try to make up for it by making sense. You tell me if that’s a good thing or not.

So here’s an open letter for anyone who passes by.

To my friend,


Today was my second day back in school, as I start the new semester. I had a rough start, with two mediocre quizzes, but it got better by the end of the day. Shared tea and some laughs with friends and even managed to fit in exercise into my supposedly busy schedule. I don’t remember this day feeling the same exactly a year ago.

It was also the second day of the new semester. I’ve been having a streak of bad days since Friday of the previous week and I didn’t know why. Maybe I did back then, I just didn’t think it was something I should worry about. I tried to go through the day, trying to think that these bad days should be over soon. I got a message wanting to have lunch. I go down the building and walk out of Ateneo with no words spoken. Just walking and looking at my shoes as I walked. I entered the newly renovated Jollibee Katipunan and ordered French fries and a cup of sundae, trying to normalize what I already felt wasn’t going to be a usual meal between two people. I sat down, fiddling with my sundae as I heard him say, “do you really think this is going to last?” It’s been a year, so most likely, these weren’t the exact words, but the thought is there. Just so you know, I was already shivering during this time, maybe out of fear or anger or anxiety, but I held on to my spoon.

“I never thought it would. Because you’ve already told me before that there’s a deadline to this.”

Here’s the punchline…

 “Did you ever love me?”

(yes friends, I said this. Probably something I regret the most that has ever come out of my mouth. Parang teleserye lang sa GMA taena)

It’s already been a year, and things are definitely so much different from last year. Last year, I was pretending things were normal. But pretending seems like a harsh word to use, because it also seems like I was in denial. But to be in denial sounds even worse, somehow very pitying for me. So it’s safe to say that I haven’t acknowledged much of it early on.

I’d be lying if I said I am completely over it. I wouldn’t be writing this to you in the first place if I were. I’ve gotten better somehow. It was just so sad that during those times that I actually and finally realized that “fuck, it’s actually over”, there’s no one to talk to about it. People were off discovering themselves and their dreams, and I just couldn’t bring myself to talk about it anyway. Maybe only during a few times when I’m already drunk and couldn’t care less if I’ll be judged by my not-getting-over-it/him.

I don’t mean for this to be an anecdote of a girl who got dumped. This is simply a letter telling you, finally, that I was hurt so badly. Maybe it doesn’t show, but I was and a part of me still is. (Don’t say I didn’t warn you about my cheese) But a side of me blames myself for not getting it right, for not even trying to fight for myself or save whatever was left. And sometimes, an even bigger part of me thinks it’s utterly unfair for someone to love you today and then tomorrow, he just decides he doesn’t. And this brings me back to thinking that I should’ve at least tried to fight for it. But then again, I’m a girl and in this country, we like to call it being desperada. For a while, it used to be a cycle, a very emo-sad one to say the least.

From a girl who’s been called being too friendly to boys, both young and old, heed my advice when I tell you, dear friend, that good things really come to those who wait and especially to those who play hard to get.

Actually. No.


I don’t think I can ever be that girl my friends have been telling me I should be. This girl who keeps her feelings and kilig to herself. This girl who doesn’t share stories about a boy she likes unless they’re already together. This girl who doesn’t grab every opportunity to talk to the boy she crushes on. I’m not like that, and I don’t think I ever will be.

But hear this. Good and lasting relationships require independence but are not made of it nor will they immediately crumble without this supposed freedom from each other. The person that I was in that relationship loved the idea that I had a life out of the relationship, that the relationship seemed like an add-on to my life. And it turned out to be just that, just something you ask for when you feel like it, but also something you can do without. It’s bad, really really bad, to think of a relationship that way because commitment is simply not a word you play around with.

You never heard me say it, but I really valued that commitment. It didn’t seem like I did, just as it didn’t look like I was affected of the break-up. It did matter to me, in levels you might not have felt or heard or even seen.

But it’s been a year, and people just get tired. It’s been a year of foolishly hoping for things to get better. I’d be lying if I said I never wished that you’d try to win me back and that I’d say yes. But it has always been a losing fight, and I just find myself losing every time I try to move. I hate losing. Posting this would readily knock me out in the open, but it’s okay. This will be the last.


The last few paragraphs are obviously not meant for just anyone who happens to pass by. Haha. 

EDIT: Ugh, it sounds so cheesy. I'm like writing my own version of Bella Swan from Twilight's thoughts. This shouldn't stay posted forever. Hahaha. Read this one instead!!! I swear I cried from this scene until the end of the film. 


Will Donner's letter to Emma in the film Waiting For Forever:

Dear Emma,


Those two words, ‘Dear Emma’ take me away to way another time when we use to write to each other after mom and dad died. I used to tell you about my new friends and my new life. And you used to tell me about the grand time my mom and dad were having in heaven. Truth is nothing. What you believe to be true is everything. And the main thing that I used to believe was that I would be with you forever.


Forever. The reason it is taking me so long to write you is that I have seen that I have been a fool. I have spent my life fooling myself.


Every letter I’ve ever written to you has been a love letter. How could they have been anything else? I can see now that all of them, except this one, were bad love letters.


Bad love letters beg for love back. Good love letters ask for nothing. This, I’m pleased to announce, is my first good love letter to you. Because there is nothing more for you to do. You already done everything. I have enough of you in my head to last forever. So please don’t ever worry about me. I’m peachy! I really am. I have everything.


If i had one wish, it would be that your life brings you a taste of happiness that you have brought to me. That you could feel what it’s like to love.



Your friend forever,
Will


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