My Time With You Was Like A Fine-Dining Experience

Let me compare my time with you with food. I find it amusing.

You see, the time I spent with you was like treating myself to a fancy restaurant or steakhouse. And you were the most expensive meal on the menu (i.e. An expensive Angus steak or better yet, something rare and the type that melts in your mouth). Before this, I was eating fastfood for almost everyday. It wasn’t healthy, but it was all I can afford. Though there was a time that that fast food joint was also a fancy restaurant. Only it happened that the restaurant went under renovation and when it opened again, it started to run like it’s a fastfood. Like when a place is under new management. Or something. Do you get me? The quantity and the quality started to suck, but it was familiar, all I had ever known. And I just got used to it.

So, anyway, there you are. A big, thick slab of meat. You looked good, you smelled good. My mouth watered. I took my first bite. Oh Lord, t’was pure bliss. I couldn’t believe it. Wow. How can something (in your case, someone) so awesome exist. I ravished you. I realized too late that I should have taken my time, but you were just so scrumptious and I couldn’t help myself. And I thought it would be enough.

But God knows, I’m wrong. It was like a piece of heaven and all I could think of is ‘I want more.’ I thought I was satisfied, even to the point of contentment. But, like I said, you were like a fine meal. Only expensive. Really expensive.

Bottomline is this: you’re like the most expensive on the menu because I know it would take me long before I get to have you again. And there is a possibility that I can’t have you again. I will just crave and long for you until I can afford you. But I highly doubt that there would be a next time.

It’s just sad. I should have savored you. My time with you, I mean.



*** Not my best. Lol. Just wanted to let it outtttt.


I Have Never Been This Honest In My Life

Being honest with yourself is the most difficult thing to do. I ended up puking my guts out and shaking so badly. My knees buckled. I couldn’t sleep. And that was pure bullshit. Because I kept on denying and denying and denying what I feel. When in fact, it’s stamped across my face. And I just didn’t want to acknowledge it because that, my friends, is my defense mechanism. Because in being honest with myself, I would be the one at the losing end. And yes, I actually am.

Being bothered to the point where I felt queasy and nauseous and I had to vomit? That’s the first time that happened to me. I can’t remember a time, or a moment, when I just had to sit down and think and lie down and try to sleep and feel my tummy roll and shit and puke because of what I just realized. It took me how many months to realize that one thing, and weeks about the other. All involving you (you gave me a few of my first times. I really hope you were sincere in saying that you felt honored about the other ones).

I puked my guts out. I wasn’t even drunk or anything. I just had to because it was so uncomfortable. I still feel uncomfortable. And do you even know what I’m going through? No. Do you even go through what I’m going through? No.

It’s just that the sad thing about this kind of “bothered” is I’m the only one bothered. While, you, the person who is in my head can sleep, have fun, and does not even think about me. You’re probably up now and on your way to training. But God, I am bothered. Really, really bothered.

I thought I just wanted a day of experiencing you. I thought it would be enough. I was wrong. I keep wondering do you even think about me, do you feel guilty, do you have regrets. I just want to sleep, damn it. Sleepless nights since we did what would happen inevitably, only it happened sooner than what I expected. I actually wasn’t even expecting that to happen. But I had to fucking push you on the edge. Why did I do that. And God, I remember when you just stared at me like I’m really a beautiful person. And I hate that. I swear what got me into this mess was when you put my glasses on me, touched my chin, and said, “You’re beautiful.” You were a fucking gentleman. And I was the skank.

You’re happy with her. I get it. And I’m genuinely happy that you’re okay, you and her. You have a cool relationship. One that I want. Because, for the most part, you are half of that relationship. Please don’t tell her about what transpired between us because it would crush us both.

And now, I’ve been honest with myself. It’s still sinking in. I’m still trying to digest what I just realized. I don’t know when I will come to terms with that. But God, please, be kind to me. My cousin told me, “It’s like you made a bet with yourself and you lost.” and from the start I already knew I would lose. And I really am baffled, confused, exasperated, because I know this is impossible. But it’s there. I’m sorry.

Seriously hating myself right now. So, it appears that you’re really one of the reasons why my ex and I broke up and why I wouldn’t take him back. When he suggested it, I thought it absurd. But there you go.

Shit really happens and I can’t take it that it has to happen with you. You don’t have to know this. And I’m planning not to tell you. This is goodbye. I know, dramatic. But we’ve known that since we first talked. You shouldn’t have been nice to me. I’m really sorry.

Crushing101: Flynn Rider

First Impression: I thought you were cute and smart, which made me wary around you.

The truth is: I’ve been looking at you since day one. And I felt guilty about it because I had a boyfriend then. And I felt you had a crush on me because you remembered me too easily during that second meeting. And I just pretended that I needed help in crossing that pipe near Long Island (I really did need help because I’m clumsy and awkward but yeah, I could’ve done it on my own). And I denied that I have a crush on you for how many months before finally admitting it to myself because we both have SOs (well, I did) and I don’t want to have a crush, especially you. And I wanted to say goodbye so, so bad to you after our finals, but I couldn’t because I asked my then-boyfriend to come with me and he was already jealous of how we interact (we fought later that evening because he said I was defending you or something). And I already stalked you before I even added you (on a dare) on Facebook. And I got all giddy when you liked my kinda crazy-stupid status, which makes no sense. And I think I’m prettier than your girlfriend which makes me a bad person and I don’t want to think like that because that means I’d rather be your… you know… I don’t know. I just want to experience you (uh) even for just a day.

How old do you look: 28. Kidding. You looked like you’re around my age, and somehow I’m right. 22 or 23. I don’t know, I didn’t ask you.

We’re: okay? (What)

Have you ever made me laugh? Yes, you did. Always.

Have you ever made my Day? Yes.

Best memory together: I have two! That pretend-time I did just so you could help me (you have strong hands btw) and when you became my walk buddy for the day and I kinda learned a thing or two about you. 🙂

Best feature: Ooooh! Your nose! You kinda look like Flynn Rider. Hihi.

Friend or Stranger: Uhm. I would like to be friends, though.

Name in my phone: I don’t even know your number. (I was hoping you’d take mine from Coach Noel’s files. Pathetic.)

Do I love you? No.

Looks (1-10): 7? Haha.

Personality (1-10): 9

Closeness (1-10): Sadly, 1.

Will I hug you: Yes. Haha.

Nickname for you: Flynn. ST (student-teacher).