SHE should never have clicked, she thought. She should never have opened his social page. She should never have read his wall and clicked on his recent uploads. But she did. And she saw the photographs. She lived in a colorful world full of hope a few seconds ago. She believed that there could be another chance. But the icon saying that he changed his relationship status from “single” to (potentially) “married,” fired up her curiosity. Indeed, she got burned. No, scorched would be more appropriate.
How will you deal the reality that you have lost
You cry. You hate him like hell. You hate yourself even more. You lash at life and destiny. You declare that you are frustrated and depressed. You scream and shout in the middle of the night. You take it out on the pillow and murder it.
And when you are done, you crawl back in your hole – your exhausted body wrapped in your insecurity/security blanket. Sucking endlessly on your thumb as you sleep dreamlessly, wishing that tomorrow they would break up.
Crying over spilt milk is natural. It is admirable because you recognize your loss. You appreciate the value of what you have voluntarily or involuntarily given up. And if you answer “okay lang” to “kamusta ka,” it would be an outright lie because we both know that you are not. You would need exorcism from hypocrisy. And if your friends and closest confidant/s would say “okay lang ‘yan,” I would be the first one to say that they need a good right jab on the jaw.
Get rid of the pretense and be real.
You just lost the love of your life to someone else, would you have the strength to smile? There is nothing fair in unrequited love. There is nothing good in losing to someone who is inferior to you (yes, you are entitled to this type of poetic bitterness). There is nothing fair in letting go of him when you know what you really want to do is to pull him closer. There is nothing fair in any of these. But there is much to learn from them.
You will not feel better tomorrow. In fact, you will feel worse. You will not feel better next week. In fact, you will just be numb. Next month? Next year? The truth is, you will call the shots. We do not control who we fall in love with.
We do not control who will hurt us either. But one thing that we have power of is we control when we will get up again.
Unfriend. Block. Hide. Deactivate.
There are so many options that you can click. There are so many paths you can take.
Resort to escapist tactics only after you have properly grieved for lost chances. A genuine feeling like what you felt for him before requires an equally genuine reaction that is true to you until the end. Give it a proper interment. And when you are ready, it is imperative that you go out and have fun. The moment that you feel that you are no longer thinking about him as much, the opposite options will be waiting.
Activate. Unhide. Unblock. Friend.
Her finger clicked, unclicked and clicked again on the empty space beside his list of friends on the left side of is social network account. The options wait like soldiers awaiting final instructions before battle. His face peers out with a goofy smile beside his veiled bride. It was the same goofy smile that she herself fell four years ago when they were in college. It is the same goofy smile that makes her innards ache to high heavens now.
If only to save me, I would. If the reason is to lessen the blow, I will. We do not choose who we love. We do not choose who will hurt us. But we choose when we will stand up and walk on.
It is all just a click away.
You cry. You hate him like hell. You hate yourself even more. You lash at life and destiny. You declare that you are frustrated and depressed. You scream and shout in the middle of the night. You take it out on the pillow and murder it.
And when you are done, you crawl back in your hole – your exhausted body wrapped in your insecurity/security blanket. Sucking endlessly on your thumb as you sleep dreamlessly, wishing that tomorrow they would break up.
Crying over spilt milk is natural. It is admirable because you recognize your loss. You appreciate the value of what you have voluntarily or involuntarily given up. And if you answer “okay lang” to “kamusta ka,” it would be an outright lie because we both know that you are not. You would need exorcism from hypocrisy. And if your friends and closest confidant/s would say “okay lang ‘yan,” I would be the first one to say that they need a good right jab on the jaw.
Get rid of the pretense and be real.
You just lost the love of your life to someone else, would you have the strength to smile? There is nothing fair in unrequited love. There is nothing good in losing to someone who is inferior to you (yes, you are entitled to this type of poetic bitterness). There is nothing fair in letting go of him when you know what you really want to do is to pull him closer. There is nothing fair in any of these. But there is much to learn from them.
You will not feel better tomorrow. In fact, you will feel worse. You will not feel better next week. In fact, you will just be numb. Next month? Next year? The truth is, you will call the shots. We do not control who we fall in love with.
We do not control who will hurt us either. But one thing that we have power of is we control when we will get up again.
Unfriend. Block. Hide. Deactivate.
There are so many options that you can click. There are so many paths you can take.
Resort to escapist tactics only after you have properly grieved for lost chances. A genuine feeling like what you felt for him before requires an equally genuine reaction that is true to you until the end. Give it a proper interment. And when you are ready, it is imperative that you go out and have fun. The moment that you feel that you are no longer thinking about him as much, the opposite options will be waiting.
Activate. Unhide. Unblock. Friend.
Her finger clicked, unclicked and clicked again on the empty space beside his list of friends on the left side of is social network account. The options wait like soldiers awaiting final instructions before battle. His face peers out with a goofy smile beside his veiled bride. It was the same goofy smile that she herself fell four years ago when they were in college. It is the same goofy smile that makes her innards ache to high heavens now.
If only to save me, I would. If the reason is to lessen the blow, I will. We do not choose who we love. We do not choose who will hurt us. But we choose when we will stand up and walk on.
It is all just a click away.