Exception to the Rule

I just need you to stop being nice to me unless you’re gonna marry me. 

 If it’s gonna be a love story, maybe it’ll be like this… I like you but you don’t. Perhaps, you know . Perhaps, you don’t. But you’re always nice to me. And that’s basically the villain of a the story. You’re niceness. You’re ability to control the gravitational pull in the room. And what do I do? Do I just fall off from that orbit I did try and failed miserably at it… I am still trying. I would like you to do your part, stop being nice to me! Let’s see what happens. Maybe I’ll start unliking you, delete you from my friends list, stop sending you random e-mails and imagining our future together. Can you believe that I actually spent an hour of foresight? Spent an hour or two before I sleep, picturing the life I will have with you and it’s all crappy mushy moments. 

So here’s a viable solution, stop being nice and charming and sweet! Otherwise, I might just wallow in misery for the next years to come.

Hey you!

Will you please just wring something! Anything. Even it’s just onomatopoeia. How hard can that possibly be!???!

My guitar gently weeps…

Called in sick today. Now in my purple shorts, nursing a running nose. Maybe, early stages of H1N1???? Whaaa!!!! Totally blew my presentation. Fail to elaborate, those clients must think that I am just faking. meh!! been preparing for it since forever. I Can’t really sleep it off. So I pick up my guitar again and strum all sorts of broken chords. Then my mind wandered. Funny how endles deadlines, business reviews and meetings can cause our brains to go haywire, reach for some paracetamol or ibufropen in our medicine cabinets. But when we think about someone special, our brains don’t compain. Instead, our hearts reaches out to grab us and slap us in the face saying “Wake up, woman!!! Wake, up of your delusion!”. I got nothing else to say but “How are you doing today?”.

*chills*

I left you a note..

Because you started it. And I believe in the theory of reprocity.

Here comes the sun

You made a funny face for the first time.

I never thought you could make such facial expression.

Cute. You should do it more often.

Invisible

Heartbeat at 120 bps.

I noticed you’re online and I don’t really know if I should stay invisible. Got all these butterflies again. Can you actually believe that I am wussing out again—especially on a Monday.

Besides you’re probably busy. You’d probably rather not hear a buzz from me.

And I am here, containing myself from double-clicking on your name and starting a casual non-stalking message like perhaps let’s say. “Hi, How’s your Monday?” or “Hey, did you take your lunch already?”. Something really platonic and plain and yeah, we’re just friends. JUST is my operative word. 

Bleah. Been spending the next 3 minutes trying to decide whether I stay invisible or not!. And it’s not cool. You’re taking my time. my time so precious and yet here I am spastic and really just freaking out. 

And what if you just ignore me. I mean sure, you’re not the type who would ignore me blatantly. You’d still reply and be politely saying ” Uhm, so I’m pretty busy. Maybe later okay”, except yours would actually sound better and if I’m too naive I wouldn’t take that as a hint that YOU HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO DO AND I SHOULDN’T BE BUGGING YOU.

You’re always nice you know. And that niceness is really overwhelming and can be mistaken for some other things. Sure you’re all nice to probably anyone or any living thing for that matter.

So yeah, I’m watching the minutes go by, wasting the last few seconds of my lunch time staring at the monitor and that little chat window.

BUZZ

Except it didn’t came from me. Apparently, I wasn’t that invisible as I thought I was because I thought I logged as invisible to everyone. But NOOOOOOO. 

So there. And those butterflies won’t just stop and yes I am happy again. Patheticly grinning like a little catholic school girl.

And calmly and collective I answered your greeting trying to sound really casual and unscathed. And I wonder if you notice this childish attempts to make pacute. Yup, PA-THE-TIC.

I invisibly bury myself under an imaginary pillow.  Yes, completely immature to the point of causing unwanted attention from the next cubicle.

And we talked and talked and felt that even if all the shit has been thrown at me today like I have a sign that says YES, DUMP ALL YOUR SHIT HERE, still you made me smile. 

Who do I thank here? Yes, God. I thank you for people that acknowledges that I am not a dumpsite of all the shit in the world.

And so lunch break is over. I don’t want to abuse this priveledge of having unlimited internet time. I’m not that insensitive to take all your time too. But i don’t want all this to end. Not now. So I said GTG and you said OK. LATERZ.

And I didn’t reply.  But I hope you know that if I had the chance to stay I would. LIKE WHAT THE HELL AM I BEING ALL MELODRAMATIC ABOUT??????????? It’s just a freaking chat. 

Stain

You’re like a stain.

Like dirty laundry 

You’re a stain

In my brain.

 Catching up with a friend.It’s been a while since we last talked. Weird feeling in my stomach. Can’t really get rid of it. Those instant messages..arrrgh. What the hell am I going to do you’re making me giggle like a school girl. This is baddddd! Bad I tell you. FOCUS. I NEED TO FOCUS.

A New Skin

Felt like it was time to shed some skin so to speak.

New dreams but same old crappy self. Ah life. 

How do you like it?

Cryptic Smile

Today, I received the same smile you always give me. Felt confused.

I’d like to stare at your crazy eyes. But this piling work prevented me from doing so.

My heart just sank deeper in my stomach. I need coffee.

3:00 a.m. thoughts: detours

On a separate note, my head is restless. am wondering why there seems to be a huge void that needs to be filled.

I lie restless and the hours go by without your knowing. My partial assessment is this… You are totally unaware of my hopelessness. You are indifferent. No maybe indifference is not the right word.

You are on the right track and I’m just a detour. Yes, a detour to which you have an option to take. Ignoring a detour  will surely bear no loss. Stick to your plan. Yeah,  a plan.

Fuck. I’m just a nuissance to your perfectly planned life. Should I remain a mere plan B? For now. Or maybe for as long as you are unaware of our possibilities.

Yes, I laugh white I write the word possibilities. Yes, possibilites to which I am the only one who’s open to.

And so my final assessment is this: Perhaps, I’m the only one who should take an alternate route. You are my highway. You are the main road. But I’d like to get lost in detours and perhaps find out if it will still lead me to you.

Tabula Rasa

I think that everyone deserves a second chance because we are not perfect.

It’s okay to make mistakes.

It’s okay to pick up the pieces where we left ourselves lying broken.

Beginnings, there’s always unwavering hope.

There’s always something to look forward to.

A light at the end of the tunnel.

A pot of gold

A silver lining.

Something’s coming. Something worth looking-forward to.

Acceptance is bliss.

2:00 a.m. thoughts

** I still can’t sleep.

** I need to do the laundry

** 1 new message

** I’d like to ignore you.

**I really want to.

But I can’t.

I just can’t

And I’m not surprised.

And so wasting another space for you means nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Absolutely.

You’re absolutely nothing to me.

And yet I’m sleepless.

If I fell…

If I fell in love with you 

would you promise to be true 

And help me understand 

'Cause I've been in love before 

And I've found that love is more 

That just holding hands 

One night while listening to Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9, I just realized this by happenstance….

I really think I love you now more than ever.

I mean imagine this. I actually woke up 2 a.m. for no apparent reason.  I was staring aimlessly at the ceiling waiting for something to happen. I dunno what.  Is this separation anxiety? 

Am I loosing what’s left of my sanity? I stood by my window. I was hoping to see you below with your usual grinning self and your regular look of longing.. a silent invitation you and I only knew.

But you’re not there. You’re no longer there.

And so this growing sickness in my stomach continues as I toss and turn to nowhere. This immense emptiness rapturing me, burying a hole inside of me.

You’re no longer there.

My phone rang. It’s 3 a.m., love.

And it isn’t you. 

Where are you love? Should I still wait for you?

High and Dry

Do I have to state the obvious?

You stole my heart. You took it away from me. Ok. I loaned it to you.  I want it back now. You are my permanent object of distraction.

I hate you. It’s like every song I hear is about you. I am left with thoughts of you and I can’t do anything about it. I miss your voice. I miss you.

I loathe to be with you and spend the rest of eternity star gazing.

There is this enormous space reserved for you that when the right time comes I will welcome and embrace you.

For now, I will wait. Although, patience is not one of my virtues, I will try me very best to keep that space vacant. For you. Only for you.

Goodnight my lover. Sleep well, my beloved.

To my lover

Dear Lover,

It’s 3 a.m. and our song is playing. *sigh* No amount of chamomile can whack me out at this point. My mind is wandering far far away to memories of us. But mostly of YOU.

I remember mindless things about you. It’s all about you and how you’re grin can always melt me into oblivion.

Your eyes that welcome mine and let’s me invade your soul (on certain occasions). There’s this unexplained serenity that envelopes me whenever I look at them.

And your nose, so perfect that I curse under my breath and wished that I inherited my mom’s instead.

It’s that sheepish smile that would make all the shitty stuff go away. It’s like a burst of sunshine or a splash of cold water.

Or that awkward laugh that makes me wonder if you really find my jokes funny or you’re just being polite. I know I suck.

Your breath smells like fresh magnolias. I wonder where they came from? I must be delusional.

You taste like confectionery sugar. I will probably die of diabetes.

But you kiss like a girl. You kiss with caution as if you’re kissing a new born’s head. I respect your sense of restraint. Whatta wuss.

I remember how your hug seems like endless silk sheets covering me, protecting me. And whenever you do, it feels like a shield that will dodge any bullet that would come along the way.

I remember how you pinch my cheek every now and then. I often get offended because it feels like you’re measuring the thickness of my face or how much weight I’ve gained after our hearty dinner.

However, you always reassure me by telling me that you have a cheek fetish. I’d like to think that you’re telling the truth.

You always give me weird names which excludes phatty or chubby cheeks. How my self-esteem adores you.

You never run out of stories. You never bore me. I find some of your jokes lame but you never fail to put a smirk on my face.

You love touching my hair or smelling it. You always stroke or brush it. It makes me wonder if you’re a hairdresser in your past life.

You’ve got mad, mad, mad guitar skills. I envy you so. I fail to impress you as mine have been reduced to mere plucking–like that of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star or Bah-bah Black Sheep.

I remember the first time you played for me. I almost felt a cardiac arrest coming.

Your love letters are like that of Shakespeare but only I can decipher (with the help of google of course).

I admire your HIGH I.Q. in as much as I admire how different your fart sounds.

You make me TEEHEE or SQUEE.

You make me giggle like a little catholic school girl.

In return of your awesome display of affection and loyalty, I will be your partner in crime, your theoretical slave, your cave woman, your man handler, your fashion police, your body double, your English tutor, your travel agent, your movie night- buddy, your erm…friend with benefits, your number one groupie and try to fulfill your deepest, darkest or even geekest desires.

So dear lover, here I am loaning you my heart and soul. Return to sender in case it’s defective.However, break any of the two and I will surely cut your balls and feed it to our neighbor’s dog.

TEEHEE.

I love you, Lover.

Lucy 

A girl with kaleidescope eyes…

Hi. I’m too scared to tell you this because you’ll probably think I’m crazy.  Oops, too late for now. By the way, I am Lucy. Yes, like the Beatles song. 

I’d love to tell you more about me. But really that shouldn’t be the case. I’m here to tell you how I feel about YOU.

Minus the B in ORING!

Yes, I am LUCY. And I LOVE MY LOVER.  And I am ready for those stones you want to throw at me.

PEACE, LOVE AND FREE BEER,

LUCY