My Ghost...

Don't you just hate it when you forget things you need to remember and remember things you need to forget?

You tell yourself you're fine and you try to act like it but you know you're never a good actress when it comes to hiding your own feelings. You read his text message, a few lines he'd sent ages ago which you've written down and kept in your notebook for memory's sake. "So how about it? One last date for old time's sake, to relive what was lost and celebrate what could've been?"

And you're affected because you never had any form of closure.

You recall the date that did push through that started from SM North Edsa to your humble house in Bulacan. You had McChicken burger to go along the way. You discussed about life, exchanged funny anecdotes, cited potential partners (which, in his case meant his current partner, as he was already committed to someone), did some orgmate bashing. You tried to talk about anything except how you two felt for each other. You felt there was no need to.

But you did talk about the "could've been's" of your past. You talked about why you liked each other to the point of loving each other. You talked about your feelings. And you never ceased to wonder why you two never ended up together. You two have the same odd tastes for Gundams and Evangelions, you both loved only two Batman movies because they were made by Tim Burton while you thought the other Batmans sucked, you both have this uncanny penchant for knowing what the other is thinking all the time. You're the only friend he has who calls him by his family nickname and he's the only friend you have who never hesitated to buy you a pack of sanitary napkins from the Coop when you needed one.

Sometimes you think he's your soulmate, if you're the type who really believes in one. On the other hand, you try to think he's not your soulmate because it only makes you feel worse you're not with him.

And then he kissed you, even if he already had somebody else. Then you just brushed it all off because you think it was just something that was supposed to have happened a long time ago but didn't because you weren't really together then officially.

But he told you afterwards that he still loved you and you had no choice but to lie through your teeth by telling him you didn't love him because the truth of the matter was that you loved him but you didn't want to complicate his relationship with his girlfriend.

And you were affected then because you thought you had closure but you only ended up opening a possible relationship which should have happened even before his girlfriend came into the picture.

You moved down south to live your life, kept in touch with him, purposely avoiding any talk you might have about the two of you. And everything was fine until he told you his girlfriend cheated on him. And you wanted to skin this girlfriend alive, berating yourself at the same time why you hadn't allowed the two of you to end up together. And you hated him because he got back with her anyway.

And in that time of separation--physically and emotionally--you found someone who really loved you back, and moved on. Yet some strange forces moved you two back together again chatting like old friends. And you purposefully avoided talking about the two of you together because you felt it wasn't needed. After all, he had her and you have your own.

Suddenly, everything seemed fine. You two chat like platonic old friends even if deep down, you were anything but platonic friends. You both pretended to be happy for each other for having that significant someone yet you hated him for being with her and you know he hated you for being with someone else. And for a moment, you put up with this farce until he told you he's getting married on the eve of his wedding. And you know you should've been happy. You just don't know why it hurt. And from that day on, you cut all ties with him...or at least you force yourself to cut all ties with him. But you couldn't because you still have his number on your speed dial, even if you have succeeded in telling yourself never to call him again.

You decide to stalk him and your standards of "stalk" would mean viewing his Friendster profile. And since you hadn't known about the anonymous setting, he learned you look into his account. And you know because he also looked into yours. And one day, out of the blue, you stalk him again--anonymously this time--only to see an ultrasonolographic image of a baby: their baby.

It was then you realize you have to stop. But you can't help but wonder...what if?

So my weekend didn't turn out to be that boring and lifeless, despite Eric being far (too far) away from me.

Last Friday after work, Claire asked John and I to have coffee, just to unwind and chill out. Since John had to attend a meeting first, Claire and I decided to go ahead and just wait for John at Karl's in SM. Over iced coffee and cigarettes (always the perfect combination), we chatted, a bit awkward at first, maybe, since it had been quite some time since we hung out last. Eventually, we discussed a few things openly about ourselves. She told me those are things she didn't expect of me to which I retorted by saying, "There are a lot of facets to my personality."

We talked about our lives since we're both turning 30 this year (she on the 25th and I on the 3rd of next month), how shitty our erm, "personal" lives had been lately (though mine was way too worse than hers), that "one guy" in our lives (there always has to be this one guy, right?), and a planned trip to somewhere the summer of next year (and facing the possibility of a summer fling).

The one thing that I really liked about that talk was that she told me she liked talking to me. I guess it's because we have similar personalities, being Arians and all. We work on the same wavelength. And we're both the same age.

Come Saturday, it was bonding time for my Mom and I (a la Gilmore Girls). I'm glad she didn't go to work that day since I can't remember the last time we went out and did something like we did that day. In the morning, we attended driving class together (my last session and her 2nd), told her about the cute guy sitting beside me in driving class, helped me flirt with the guy after the class, had lunch at a newly-opened restaurant, went to the mall, bought a mixer and a pressure cooker, had a facial, then went to the spa.

And then I realized, life without Eric for a few days was fine. The world didn't end.

But I still hate it when we're not together.

Dorothy Shoes...

There is a reason why I refer to myself in this blog (as well as in my other blogs) as "The Orgasmic Beauty in Scarlet Shoes."

First, I have been described as "orgasmic" by my orgmates at UJP-UP, primarily because of how much I playfully harass Weng, an orgmate and a dear friend (who's happily married now to a wonderful lady). In one of the sigsheets which was used as an assignment booklet for aspiring UJP members, one of Weng's codes was, "Bilis, Tuxedo Mask! Andyan na si Sailormars!" Back then, I still had a good body to show, accented by a 24-inch waistline. (I still have a 24-inch waistline...it's somewhere in the other inches.)

Second, I have been known by my pair of red shoes. My first pair was a cute ballet flats number which I often used for dancing. (There must be something with red shoes for dancing that attracts so much attention.) When that pair gave up from being worn too much, I changed to a pair of red alligator-skin loafers. When that died out on me, I found another pair of red shoes...until I moved to Davao.

I don't remember having any pair of red shoes since I moved. (Well, I do have a pair of red sandals, but I don't count them as shoes.) Maybe because the footwear trend changed from shoes to sandals and slippers. On the other hand, I found myself being more comfy in a good pair of sneakers.

And then last Saturday, I saw a pair of red shoes. It's so read you'd be blind not to notice it. And I told myself I'm going to buy it.

Unfortunately, I couldn't get my money withdrawn from the bank...ATM problems.

I hope the pair is still there until I buy it.