a question to ponder...

A friend once asked me, do you regret ever falling in love? I know the answer to it, but being asked point blank made me pause to consider my answer. It also made me wonder where the question came from (but I will come back to that).

Have I ever regretted falling in love?

I fell in love when I shouldn't, when I least expected it, and with the most unexpected person. It was a shock to say the least, to suddenly find out, undeniably and irrevocably that I was in love with someone. Suddenly, my life was not mine anymore. Love chose me and not the other way around. This is that aspect of love that nobody can control. The "shouldn't" part, though considerably hard had an easier solution... you just let it be without doing anything about it.

Destiny? Fate? That we should meet, fall in love and part ways. Sometimes, in the passing of years, I wanted to doubt the reality of that love. Was it only me? Was it the same for him? But when I reach down to recapture those moments, I know in my heart that it was real, that it is still real for me. Some would say that maybe it's what I wanted to see. Maybe. It was a time in my life when I found myself really happy. In a moment of absolute certainty, I felt that no matter what, I will remember this love for as long as I live. And I have. It is a part of who I am right now. At times when pain overwhelms me, I would think how life could have been different. But then I still would choose love, the pain and the memories.

I never regretted falling in love. Once in a while I give myself a mental kicking for losing that love thinking maybe I did not fight for it hard enough. Then I look towards the future, sometimes wishing... but always accepting what I've come to know as inevitable.

goodbye 2005

Winter. Though I love this season, I think it's also the season that emphasize the fact that at times I feel so alone. New Year came and went, the whole of 2005 is now a memory. With a few slip-ups, I think it's been a good year.

Cold weather, a cup of coffee and my memories... Cheers to 2006!

the time is near...

How do you prepare yourself to leave the past behind? Nay, not just the past, but your entire life. Can a person really start life anew, with a clean slate, free from the past? Maybe...

In a few more months I will be starting a new life. Hoping that there will be no need to look back, nor a need to go back. For now I try to live the present hoping that today too will be left behind for good...

Things...

There are times when I question certain things that happened in my life. Is it my fault? Did I cause something to happen? Did it happen because of who I am, of what I am? But then I would also ask myself, what did happen that's beyond your control to make you into what you are?

As I go through life, I've learned that things happen. Whether you want it to or not, whether you caused it or not, things just happen. It's a combination of everyone willing whatever they want to happen. It appears random, but then again it's not.

Some study would say that we are what we are because of our genes, some would argue that we are shaped by our environment. I'd like to think that it's a combination of both. I know part of me I got from my Dad and still part came from my Mom and from my own experiences growing up.

Growing up. Have I done that? I know I grew old but I'm not sure if I've actually grown up. I'm not even sure I know what that meant.

freedom and consciousness

1. Freedom is a state of mind.
2. It lies beyond the field of consciousness.

I read this somewhere, and it has gotten me quite confused. If freedom is a state of mind, then how can it lie beyond the field of consciousness? Is it the kind of freedom the resides in our subconcious? Does this mean freedom can only occur when we are not concious of it? That the moment we become conscious is the moment we lose our freedom? How do we know we are free if we are not aware of it. Is it a sense of freedom?

I guess in part this is true for how can we be free in our consciousness when this comes with preconcieved notions of what is and what isn't. Our consciousness is riddled with experiences, of conclusions, knowledge and memories. Does it mean we have to shed everything to be free? Without our consciousness, what are we left with? Will we still exist? If we are not concious of our own existence, will freedom matter?

the only thing constant...

It has been said that the only thing constant is change. Everything changes over time. I guess to a point I can believe that this is so, but then again, sometimes, I get reminded that some things never really change. Sure we get old, our fiery self might somewhat be tamed over time, even our beliefs shift to make living comfortable as we journey down the road. The season changes to mark the passage of time. And even though we might go through the same seasons every year, things will be different.

I ask myself, have I changed? To a point, maybe... but not entirely. There is one more thing that is constant... it has remained the same throughout the years. I feel it will remain the same for years to come.

The only thing constant is change... do I dare wish for a change?

run...catch up...face it!

My friend said, no matter how fast or how far you run, everything will catch up to you eventually. To which I replied, I think I have stopped running by now. I think I'm in that "waiting for things to catch up" stage. As to whether I'm prepared when things finally catches up with me... well, that's another matter.

I have found out that no matter how much you try and prepare yourself, things never work out the way you think they will. It doesn't matter how many scenarios you've tried to play in your mind, no matter how many outcomes you can come up with, in the end, things will run the way it is, but never how you think they will. So why waste time preparing?

Like I've said, I'm tired... as a result, I've slowed down a lot. Whatever's trying to catch up will soon be here facing me. It's bound to happen sometime. Maybe sooner, maybe later, but it will come. Maybe it won't be as bad as the first time...

two weeks after...

Hey! It's two weeks after D-Day. I'm alive! Am I okay? I think so... or should I say I hope so? Ah, whatever, all will be better after. It's always been that way... till next year. Or who knows maybe next year it won't be as bad.

Through all the years
I've shed these tears
Hoping for release
From love's first kiss...

Maybe next year...

the day after...

I woke up late, very late. It's a good thing work doesn't start till later in the day or else I'd have been in trouble. No hangover (but of course, I did not drink!), no bloated feeling after the enormous amount of food I consumed the night before. Nothing to indicate that I have yet again marked another year to my never ending journey.

In fact, I feel almost normal. Almost.

the day before...

9:29 pm, October 13, 2005. Up to now I have tried to keep my mind blank. I tried to amuse myself with everything I can think of. I went shopping, I surfed the Internet, I read books, I tried to do some mini-research, watched TV, played violin, made life hell for some drivers who shouldn't be driving, ate more food to last me a lifetime. After all the activities, I stopped for a second to stare at the computer screen. That's when I admitted to myself that my diversions didn't work. Did I expect it to? Honestly, not really, but I hoped. I hoped that maybe this year things will be different. A tiny bit maybe, but not much. So here I am a few hours away from that fatal moment. Putting up a brave face, showing the world everythings good, silently crying inside, grieving... trying to recover, but never quite managing such.

How much longer? Too long by now, but still counting... maybe next year...

A moment like this....

A Moment like this.
Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this.
Some people search forever for that one special kiss.
I cant believe its happening to me.
Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this.
-Kelly Clarkson

Simple lines from a song, but powerful enough to bring me to tears. This song has been around for some time, but for some reason when I was listening to it yesterday as I was driving, it brought me on the verge of a breakdown. I had to park on the side of the road because I just could not keep driving(thank goodness I was off the freeway by that time).

What made me cry? I don't know exactly. Maybe it's the realization that I have found that moment in time and have lost it. That it will never come again even if I wait another lifetime. One special moment, one special kiss, a smile then it was gone. Years have passed, I know I have moved on, somewhat. But once in a while the memory can still overwhelm me, and when it does the all the years of moving on seem to vanish into thin air and I'm back again to where I've started.

Sometimes it makes me wonder what the point of moving on is all about. I don't think one can really recover from losing the one that you love. Sure, I can always say it's all in the past, I have a new life now, but honestly, do you ever really move on and leave the past behind? Or is it forever going to be like this? At the most unfortunate moment, something will trigger that memory and you'll remember that no matter what you do and no matter where life takes you, you'll never be complete because of that moment you've lost forever.

This I think is what tires me more than anything. Everything is going right then something triggers the memory and I'm thrown back in time. Oh, I recover fast now, not like before, but I think it's taking its toll on me. I just hope I can keep this up till everythings as it should be.

there goes the faith...

It's been a while. I try not to think too much for fear that I would lose whatever peace I've come to have. Most of the time I read, nothing serious to prompt me to think too deeply though. Lately I've read a trilogy about a Christ clone, which in the end turned out to be the anti-Christ prophesized in the Bible. The book started out really well, introducing concepts and ideas about Christ and religion in a different light. Though at times it tends to preach, it established a good framework for the story. I could have said that in all the books were good but in the end, all it ended up with are old teachings and old beliefs that people like to cling on to. It gives them hope to do this I guess. I just wonder when someone can actually write something about Christ and all he stands for without reverting to ingrained religious beliefs. But I guess this would be somewhat impossible. For how can one write about Christ without the beliefs ingrained by the Church, when he is the symbol of that very belief?

dreams

Dreams. Of late I have been reading books on the topic. I'm curious to find out what experts have to say about it. I'm actually impressed by the amount of information that one can find both online and in print.

Why the curiosity? Simple, I've been having quite a lot lately and I wanted to find out what they mean other than my normal instincts that it's an event that is bound to happen.

Dreams, experts say are products of our subconscious trying to come out in the open(of course I've badly paraphrased their description, but it'll do). Sometimes it's a manifestation of some deep anxiety that we feel and cannot face while in conscious state. Or a longing for something or someone. Or it can also be a significant representation of phases in our life. They've even provided some meaning to symbols in our dreams. They did say that rarely are dreams a form of prophecy, giving an example of someone dying in their dreams as a sign that they'll never wake up obviously saying that how can you recount the dream if you've already died. Of course I'm not claiming ot be an expert on dreams, I just wanted to see if there are any other explanations as to their nature. Prophesy or an outlet? who knows.

As they said, all people dream and almost every night (except for drug induced sleep), but not all remember that they actually had a dream when they wake up. Now, that part might be true... for I am guilty of not having dreams at all at least for a long time before now. It might be that my brain simply refused to let me remember that I indeed dreamed of something or someone. Self preservation? Not of consequence? Whatever the reason, it is rare that I dream and remember it when I wake up. There is a twist though. When I do remember a dream, most of the time, or should I say all the time, the dream does come true. Not all of them immediately, and sometimes it doesn't even happen till years afterwards, but it does happen. I have never dreamed of things(at least not that I remember), I always dream of people and events or circumstances happening to certain people. Sometimes, I don't know that person yet, but when I do wake up and remember a face, then I'd know that I'll meet that person somehow, somewhere. Sometimes, I'm in a middle of a conversation and I'd suddenly have this feeling of deja vu and I'd carry the conversation for both of us saying what the other person is saying at the same time they're saying it. Feels weird, definitely. Most of my dreams are limited though to immediate family, friends and acquaintances, and at times future acquaintances. I do not have visions of what the world will end up in or who's going to get assassinated or if we'll have a plague as a result of terrorism. But even then, I get scared of what I'll remember when I wake up that I must have forced myself to forget as soon as I open my eyes.

It worked for a while, but of late I've been dreaming, nothing really bad, but disturbing at least for me. Some of the dreams have implications that I have yet to analyze and prepare myself for in the event that it should happen... Sometimes I also think that some of my dreams seep into my consciousness to warn me to brace myself. I've still yet to find a really good source of information that will answer my questions as to the real nature of dreams. I'm aware that most of them are theories as there really is no way to know exactly what and where dreams come from... at best they look like spikes in a chart of brain activity. Of course, experts would argue that it's more than that, but unless one actually was able to get inside a dream, I'd be hard to convince.

As for now, I dream... and remember... and wonder...

of being alone...

I've always been pretty open with the thought of death, well, at least my own. I used to be afraid at the thought of dying, but somewhere along the way, I have accepted and with acceptance came understanding, and as I understand better, a path has been cleared and now I don't fear death. I fear more what it will do to the people I will leave behind.

And what brought on this morbid thought of dying? My uncle lies in a coma and might not recover. And though we are not that close, at the back of my mind I know that he'd always be there in the background. And now the thought that he won't is causing me to face my real fear, of being the one left behind when everyone else has passed on. I don't know if it's coincidence, but my Dad's older sister died first of cancer, my uncle is the second of the lot, and he lies in a hospital with little chance of recovering. Another sister is in line before my Dad gets into the picture and then there's the youngest sister. Normally I don't believe in superstition or anything that borders on supernatural, but this one makes me uneasy. Not only because it involves death, but that it seems to be following some order.

I might have accepted the fact of my own death, but of people I love... I have a very long way to go. I don't know if there really is heaven or hell, or if there is a soul, or if a persons essence just floats away after one dies. Of those things I really don't think about. Whatever it is, will be. I do not strive hard to be religious to ensure my soul's acceptance into heaven. I just try to do what's right at least as I see it. I try not to hurt other people as I don't want them to hurt me. A little limited one might say, but I'm only human and as such, hampered by human behaviors and thinkings. That is all I try to do, be human, not even an enlightened human... just simply human.

I've already lost someone I love, thought not in death, the feeling of loss is still traumatic. A long time have passed but I'm still recovering. I cannot even begin to imagine what it'll be like to have someone really close to me die. Oh, there have been other relatives who passed away, but that was when I was too young to understand, or too much in between to care. But with age comes wisdom as an old saying goes... and sometimes that wisdom is not a welcome one. And now what I fear most was being left alone by myself to carry on when everybody else is gone.

I am here because of my family and my friends. Without them I would be lost. I don't deny that there might be some purpose for me other than being a part of a family or being a friend but I have no illusions as to how far I can go without their support. Sometimes it's hard when one is too honest with one's self.

friendly conversation

I saw a friend last week. We didn't have very long but I guess when it's between friends, a lot can be said and understood in a very short time.

She seemed okay, at least you get a feeling she's okay when you look at her, but not if you look long enough. She's getting restless(again), though where this restlessnes will take her I can only guess. She still has that haunted look in her eyes, one that she tried hard not to let me see. But when you've been down that road before you'll know. Of course I did not really press her on this, I think she has it in her mind to find out how I really am, so I played along. I almost forgot that sometimes she asks hard questions and the only way out was to answer them honestly.

First thing she asked me, "Do you still think of him?"

I said yes I do, on some days a lot but then again if I'm lucky I can go days/weeks without thinking of him. It's a "time" thing. Time does wonders to ones memories.

Does it still hurt? she asks.

Not as much as before, might be I'm healing, might be I'm numbed of it could be I don't care anymore. But once in a while it still gives a certain twist in the heart, a discomfort that I usually take care of with a long and fast drive in my car.

She said maybe it would help if I actually see him in person, you know like a getting over him thing.

I said maybe, but then again, maybe not. At this point I'm not willing to let go of my fragile calm. It already took me too long to get to this point and there's no point in risking anything just to satisfy a curiosity. I told her in time I will see him and know that it's okay, but not yet.

That's when she told me she saw an old flame of hers and said that it's fine with her. She's okay. That she saw some form of regret in his eyes.

I thought to myself, she's trying to make it okay. But as for me, I have to illusions as to what my state of mind is so I kept quiet. I think she wanted to show me she's gotten strong since the last time. I've no doubt about that, she has gotten strong, but not enough to look away at what she thought she saw in his eyes. I wanted to make sure that I'll have none to show by the time I see him again, regrets or no regrets. There can never be anything in between.

The she asked the most difficult question of all, and it doesn't have anything to do with whomever we were talking about. She wanted to know about a friend who is not so much of a friend now, my fault.

"Do you regret letting him go?" she wanted to know.

The biggest regret I have is losing a very dear friend. Someone who was there to lift me up no matter how low I've sunk. Someone who gave his life to me so I can have mine back. Someone who sacrificed himself so he can give me a good push to help me move on. Someone who loved me even if I cannot give him the love he deserved. Yes, there are some regrets, but I keep them to myself. He deserves to be happy or at least find someone who can give him the love I denied him.

On the way home I ended up thinking how ironic it was that the question the disturbed me most was the one of letting my friend go, of giving him up. I guess for this too I'd need a lot of time before I can think about it without doubting the decisions I've made.

Loneliness is a tough companion. It offers no relief, only sadness.

on forgiveness...

Sometimes it takes a great deal of suffering to find out who your real friends are. There were moments in the past where I have neglected these true friends in favor of those "friends" I thought were real at that time. I have found this out the hard way and have also suffered because of it. Thankfully, my true friends are still around to help me pick up the pieces of my once tattered life.

But what have I done to deserve this abandonment, the indifference? I guess it was partly my fault. I have hurt someone so bad and they gave their loyalty to him. It is not that I condemn their actions, but rather, I question it. For what do they know of the real circumstances surrounding this betrayal? They have not been part of my struggle to reclaim my life from the pits where it was thrown like some neglected and unimportant piece of trash.

It's been a long struggle and I'm afraid there's still more hardships to come. I am tiring but I know I will survive, just as I have survived losing my only reason for living. I know I have hurt someone so deeply, but not as deeply as I've hurt myself when I left him and let him go. He was the one who willed me to survive when I have given up. He will never know how much he has come to mean to me. And for all this I suffer, but always in silence. He gave me my life back, but I know I took his away when I left. But then, there are things that cannot be helped. One must do what one must do.

Now I live this life, the one he gave back to me, but I live it in emptiness. Empty because I have not forgiven myself. For my weakness, nor for my strength for they were the cause of all the pain. As I move towards the unknown, I hope for peace to finally find me. That in time I will learn forgiveness for myself. To view my mistakes as part of my imperfect life and somehow in doing so become whole again.

too much honesty

I think I've heard somewhere that sometimes too much honesty is the fall of man. Now don't ask me who said that because I don't remember. Well, whatever or whoever it is, I think it's true. Next time, I'd rather be vague and let others interpret what I've said than tell them outright what is and what is not. Please give me more patience to get some things over with. I fear the consequences if I fail to exercise this virtue to its full extent.

moving on

One of my friends told me she stopped reading my blog for now. Some of the writings here gets her in a depressed state. When asked why, she said, I write of sad things, of lost love. Before, she only accepts what I'm going through without question because she's my friend, but now I guess she understands how it feels. I know she loved and lost. Don't worry my friend, time is a good ally. I will not lie to you that it will take a long time to get over it, or maybe you will never get over it, just learn to live with the fact that the memories will be your company as you grow old. But time has a way of making us accept and be at peace with ourselves. There will be times when you will cry while watching a love story, or feel envious when you see couples holding hands, but as time passes by it will not be as bad.

these days...

In a few more days, it'll be my fourth year here in this new life of mine. The years have actually gone by fast, though on some days I felt that everything dragged. I can still remember the flurry of activities, all the paperwork, with no real thought that I will be leaving my life, the only life I've known, behind for good. I had honestly thought that I'd be gone for a couple of months tops.

As life and fate would have it, they played their little trick and I'm still here, awaiting for the final pieces of the puzzle to fall into place. I really shouldn't complain, everything has been good. I've been slowly but steadily building a good life, getting everything set for my children. In a couple of more months I would have achieved what a lot of people can only dream of. Patience and hard work has its rewards.

And as I labored this last month to survive, as I always do every year at this time, my friend asked me to read a couple of books. The books were great, of that I am sure. Its about a love so strong that it stood the test of time. Greater still because it was able to overcome sickness and death. But in all its greatness, where exactly does it leave me? Me and all others who have suffered a lost love. Most will cry, some will be renewed with hope, still some will remain the same... lost.

I have always wondered how one goes on with life when one has already died inside. It's been almost nine years, but I'm still here, alive. Am not so sure if I'm actually living, but I'm definitely alive. I've chosen this path because I have my children to think of. And to think, I've almost given them up when I thought, no, when I knew with my entire being, that I have found the one person that I know I will love forever. Yes, I too was weak, long ago. Now, I'm glad that I have my children, they've kept me strong all these years.

Of lost love? It will remain lost. I will journey far and wide to find myself in this lifetime, to find some peace as I grow old. But that lost love will remain forever lost even if it finds it way back to me.

two novels...

I have just read two novels by Nicholas Sparks. They were recommended to me by my best friend. In all reality, I don't know why people tend to do this to themselves. Read about a great love story and cry simply because that is all we can do, read about them. I have no doubt that some people have actually been blessed to have the kind of love we often read in novels, but there are equally the same number of couples left with their hearts broken. Still we read about them or watch them in the movies, and cry, and hope, we always hope that in the end, we'd be able to say we experienced that kind of love too.