Fridays

Its 9 in the evening and I'm still in the office. Its a beautiful Friday night, the weather's perfect for a night out yet here I am, staying inside. I could have gone home hours ago. By this time I would have been enjoying a salad at home, watching my favorite shows on TV. Just a night like any other. This has how my Friday's have been for the past months. If I don't go out, I just stay at home and chill. Pretty boring right? The truth is, Fridays give me bittersweet memories.

For three months I knew how it was to be with someone. My first real relationship. It was short yet those three months were some of the most memorable. Fights, feel-good moments, alone time and all the other things that lovers do. It was a rollercoaster ride. One hell of a ride. I admit, that eventhough it only lasted a mere three months, but until now, I could not forget it. Sure I don't make it seem like I still care, but in reality, I STILL do. Sucks, right? I know.

Weekends are the hardest. I always had a default companion. But now, I need to look for one. Sure I've got a lot of friends but they also have their own lives. Misery loves company. There are some friends who are wallowing in the same quick sand that I am in. Trying to fight back yet it only drags us deeper and deeper. Sadness has eaten me alive. Too bad I'm still alive.

I was mad, hurt and disappointed why it all ended abruptly. Sure I fucked up a couple of times. For that I'm really sorry. I know I've said nasty things which I know were like a thousand daggers being hurled at you. It wasn't cool. But then, I was grieving. I was too tough to admit it even to myself that as much as I wanted to get out of the relationship, a part of me wanted to stay. I got tired of the petty fights, the expectations I could barely meet and the constant request for attention.

I am SELFISH. I never admitted it. A friend told me to my face that I was indeed SELFISH. True friends stab you in front. For that, I thank her. Without that, I would not have accepted the ugly truth that all I cared about was myself. I thought I was ready to be committed, to be in a relationship. I was wrong. Maturity does not come with age. I may be mature in some aspects of live, yet I'm the total opposite when it comes to LOVE.

Watching the 2007 film Shelter brought to life a lot of feelings. I wanted to have somebody. I wanted to feel loved. I wanted to be with someone who would not judge me. I want to be with somebody who would love me despite my imperfections. I said that loving you was hard. Now, I realized that loving me is harder. Sure I have my mood swings and my crazy ideas. I may look as if I don't care. I can be demanding, insensitive and downright petty at times. I may throw a bitch fit for the simplest of reasons. I could be irrational. I know I can be a pain in the ass (no pun intended).

Honestly, I don't blame you for giving up on me. I know I was too cold, too bitter to even think about your side. I have made some of the most hurtful and insulting remarks. I am sorry. I was out of line. I know you're out there somewhere, moving on, thinking that I have done the same thing. Well, guess what, I haven't. There I've said it.

A part of me still wants you to come bac, a part of me wants to move on. I don't know which is more dominant. I've said that I would not make a move to win you back. I know that if we're really meant for each other, then we'll end up together. If not, then hopefully we'll each find our own happiness.

I don't cry over spilled milk. I never cry, well, except for sappy old movies and cathartic love songs. I always wear the tough mask. But deep inside, I'm weeping. It doesn't manifest not until a few round of alcohol. The drunk mind speaks the sober heart. Fuck.

On this Friday night, I'm here, pouring my heart out and hoping that you will get to read this. I may be confrontational, but I just couldn't bear to say these to your face because they may seem fake. Thanks to the wonders of technology and the immense capacity of the blogosphere, I can say whatever I want. Anytime.

Man does not live by words alone despite the fact that sometimes he has to eat them. Yeah, maybe I would have to eat them if we do get back together. I've said that it was all over, but then again, a lot can change.

On Friday nights, I always remember you. That's how it has been, and its how it will always be.

Here's to you.