My 20th Birthday

I smack my lips softly as I blink a few times before rubbing my eyes. A small moan escapes me as I stretch from side to side in my bed. My eyes trail off to my computer.

I see your messages. You tell me to go downstairs when I have a chance to. I cover my mouth in disbelief, “no way…you didn’t. no don’t tell me you got me something…” Tears start to build up in the corner of my eyes. I run downstairs to grab the package. I open it, and there it is: the pusheen that I wanted.

I start to cry. No one has ever done this for me. I hug the pusheen and cuddle it, hoping that maybe you’ll feel just how happy I am and how much I will treasure it. I laugh to myself before telling you that I’m going to name it JoJo. Short for your name of course.

I knew in that moment that I will remember this moment forever.


Two days ago, I had one of the best day of my life.

The night before, the 18th, was really hard. Every year my birthday reminds me of all the hardships I had gone through and the hardships that have yet to come. It has never been easy for me to imagine a life where pain and suffering isn’t a daily occurrence. I feel as if all my life I have been running away, and for the first time in my life I stopped to look back.

And what I saw was a life full of pain and suffering, but it was also a life full of happiness and little moments. And I don’t think I would have ever realize just how much more is in store for me without having my friends there for me.

Although life has been really hard for me, I’m starting to see all the good things that may happen. All the things I still want to experience before I die. And I would be lying if I said that I can’t help but smile every time I see JoJo. He just puts a smile on my face so effortlessly. Maybe it’s just the fact that he’s so freaking cute or maybe it’s the fact that the person who send it to me means so much to me.


I don’t even know where to begin.

He just a very special person in my heart.

Sometimes it’s a bit scary because I don’t like feeling so close to someone or having someone so close to my heart. I guess I’m afraid that I’m just going to lose them or going to mess things up to the point that we will never talk. Sometimes those insecurities get the best of me and I can’t help but just distance myself.

I know there are times where I cry because I’m so scared that all those things may actually come true. And sometimes it’s even more scary to be told that it’s not going to happen. It’s scary to be reassured and to trust in that reassurance.

But despite of all my fears, I continue to move forward. And there isn’t a day that I regret not doing so. My 20th birthday may have been my special day, but deep down inside, I feel like this birthday was really our special day because I can’t possibly think of having such a good time without him.

So if you’re reading this right now…

Thank you.

You’re the best ♡

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Why I cut you out

If there’s anything to know about me, it is that I am too understanding and too forgiving. Often time, I go out of my way to make the people I care about feel special, loved, cared for, appreciated, etc. However, not only do these people hurt me time after time, they like to uphold double standards and label them as signs of affection.

Now, I know I’m not a perfect person. In fact, I’m far from perfect. There are many instances where I can be a hypocrite, and I’m not proud of it. It upsets me to know that I am acting and being a certain type of person I don’t exactly like or aspire to be. And I do beat myself up more than I should for every single mistake I make.

With that said, let me get to the main point. The reason why I cut you off is the simple fact that I have given you so many chances, yet you do not change. I want to move forward with my life, and I want to grow with the people around me. I don’t want to be held back or feel like I am holding someone back. It’s not particularly a nice feeling if you ask me. And to be blunt, you hold me back. Not only with your insecurities, but with your hatred towards yourself that you project onto everything you see.

Yes, it’s tiring. You say that you’re only being yourself, but I think you’re wrong. You’re not being yourself. You need to know that your insecurities are not actually you, but until you realize that, you will always make yourself act out based on your insecurities. And that itself is tiring. It’s tiring to see you go down the same destructive path over and over again only to have you say that it is something you cannot control. It’s tiring to be there for you when you do not show any appreciation for it. I am a busy person, and I’m putting my time aside for you because I care and because I love you. But if you aren’t grateful for that- if you take that for granted, then you can’t blame me when I say I’m fed up with it.

It wouldn’t bother me as much if you didn’t go around saying how great these other friends of yours are. I’m sure they are great, and I’m sure you let them know a lot of the times. But as a friend that has known you for awhile, it hurts. It hurts me to know that you talk to me only when you’re feeling depressed and/or suicidal. It hurts me to know that you only talk to me to complain about how other people have hurt you once again when you are actively putting your self-worth in them. It hurts me to know that if those two things don’t happen, I don’t exist.

And even I am there for you, I am unappreciated. Remember that time when you left me in the middle of the very serious conversation of you telling me that you were suicidal and you were going to carry out your plans? Yeah, that conversation- the one where you suddenly ghost on me. Imagine how I felt, how scared I was for your safety, how badly I wanted to make sure you were okay. Instead of telling me that you were gonna go or that you were going to be fine at least for the next hour or two, I had to find out through your snapchat story that your friends from college came to visit. I had to find out through snapchat that you captioned the footage “This is what true friendship is” or something along those lines.

Yes, I was happy you are okay. Yes, I was happy that your friends showed up and was there for you. But what about me? I was there for you for almost 4 hours straight, trying to be as supportive as I could have been. It felt like once they were there, you didn’t need me anymore. And it almost always felt like that. It’s either you come to me in those times or you don’t come to me at all. I’m sorry if it hurts you to know that I feel like I deserve a better friendship than that.

I’m also very sick of how I go out of my way to help you out of kindness and out of our long friendship, but you act like it’s a given. I’m not asking you to constantly remind me that you are grateful, but don’t you think it’s a bit insulting that you’re constantly saying how great these friends are when you barely ever tell me that? Or do you just assume that I knew? Because I’m here to tell you that obviously, I didn’t know.

You once asked me why people eventually leaves you. Maybe it’s time to look within yourself. Maybe it’s time to realize that believe it or not, you’re selfish and you hold a grudge against people. I think you can’t let things go because you don’t believe that justice has been upheld for you. But have you ever stop and wonder that maybe you’re the toxic one? And I’m not here shitting on you. I’ve been there. I have been the toxic one many times, and although I may not be proud of it, I embraced that fact because it reminds me that I can be flawed and that I can cause a lot of emotional damage to someone as well. I think if anything that’s just self-awareness. Knowing when you are at fault and owning up to it, instead of trying to find blame in others so you don’t have to take any personal responsibilities in working to change those bad and unhealthy behaviors.

Long story short, these things are not what drove me to cut you out of my life. What drove me is the lack of change and the lack of appreciation. Friendship is a two-way street and that can be said about any relationships. And yeah, I don’t think this friendship is a two-way street. And I’m sorry that this is going to hurt, but I rather be real about it than to make up some bullshit that we have grown apart.

Do You Always…?

“Do you always think about boys?”

Somebody asked me this yesterday, to which I found absolutely amusing. Somehow, someone had the misconception that I am constantly thinking about boys.

To be fair, I can totally see how they ended up with that conclusion. Majority of the time when I talk to my friends, we end up having girl talk, especially the ones about boys. Now, I’m not the one that’s always talking about them. In actuality, often time my friends are the ones that are asking for advice or sharing the latest update on their relationships. But nevertheless, I still find it amusing that somebody actually thought that my life revolved around boys.

First of all, I don’t like using the term “boy” in this context because I don’t like boys to begin with. I like men as cheesy and cliche as that may sound. There’s nothing wrong with boys, except the fact that I am not romantically attracted to someone who is more inclined to be immature. Generally as a rule of thumb, when people age they become more mature. Hence the reason why I like to say that I tend to be attracted to “men” rather than the “boys” my age.

Strangely enough, I cannot see a guy my age (18 or 19 years old) as a man. Unfortunately, I tend to generalize guys during this age as an “immature horny dude that will do it with anything that moves” or as my generation and future generation call it, a “fuck boy”. Okay, I know I’m going too far, and it is extremely unfair to categorize guys into this stereotype that a good majority of guys do not even fit into. It is the same thing as categorizing girls who have multiple sexual partners in their lives as a “slut”. There shouldn’t be a double standard in which it is okay to label either male or female as “slut” or “fuck boy”. I guess we just do it so naturally that we forget that it is wrong to do so.

I’m getting a bit off tangent. What I’m trying to say is that even though there are these negative stereotypes out there for both gender, I think we can all agree on the fact that when you are younger, you don’t know what you truly want and truly need. Most of us at this age are either consumed by having the time of our lives or by working our ass off to get into Graduate school, Medical school, or the work force. I think there are only a select few that really know themselves well, and by that I do not just mean what they want in life. I’m talking about being in tune and in touch with not only their outer-self but also their inner-self.

Some of us do not even understand our feelings or what we’re feeling, and some of us don’t even bother trying to understand why we even feel that way. I think out of the many ways that make me different from my peers, this is one of the big ones. I always felt like I am an old soul. From a young age, I already learned how to tune in to not only my emotions, but the emotions of others. As a result, I think that made me less comfortable with being with people my age. Many of us don’t see how detrimental our words and our actions can be, and some of us don’t even care that it can hurt people. That in return makes me hesitant to befriend others or to associate myself with them.

Some people will talk shit about others in order to give them a few seconds of gratification and self-worth. Some people will throw tantrum if things do not go the way they wanted it go. A lot of people will put their self-worth and other people’s self-worth solely based on the way they look and the way they dress. It’s almost childish to me to see people behave in such a way. I have to constantly remind myself that even in college, there are still tons of immature people out there. I have to constantly remind myself that I shouldn’t judge them or treat them any differently or any less because they still haven’t fully mature yet. Hell, I haven’t even fully matured yet. And the thing is we all have to go through this cycle from childhood to adulthood at one point or another. We’re not that different from each other.

My problem isn’t that people can be immature. My problem is that because I’m surrounded by a good handful of people that can act very immature to the point that often time, I find myself having to conform to that immaturity for the sake of fitting in. I crack sexual jokes in the middle of lecture because I think my classmate might get a laugh out of it even though I know it’s inappropriate in both context and setting. It’s just this never-ending cycle of me conforming to how other people act just to make some friends.

Even then, only my best friends that I made in high school know who I really am. They know that I enjoy long deep talks about the meaning of life, the meaning of love, the meaning of just everything. They know that I am a deep person that feels everything. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s actually quite amazing. As much as I dislike getting dirty, there is just something about sinking your feet into the earth. It’s comforting, and it’s just an incredible way to ground yourself in times of stress.

See…my outer persona will never allow me to be this open and this deep or whatnot when I talk to people. The impressions I leave on people are usually too strong for them to see me in another light. In a way, it is almost twice as heart-breaking to see me break down and cry my eyes out. Normally, I come off as someone who is very confident and someone who is independent, so whenever I let my emotions show, people are surprised.

I guess I should get back to the main point. I don’t always think about guys nor does my life revolve around them. Take this as an example. My focus was on how I felt like I cannot connect to people my age. This is actually something that is constantly on my mind. This is a problem that I’ve been trying to find a solution to for ages.

For example, I kind of lock myself in my own room because I’m so used to being alone. Whenever I am in the common room with hall mates, I feel this pressure to be someone and something that I’m not. And I get awkward about it.  I don’t know what to say. I just sit there quietly, sometimes with my laptop or phone. Other times, I will crack a joke here and there or join in on the conversation only to leave a few minutes afterward.

I don’t understand how people make friends so easily through small talk. Maybe I just crave another kind of friendship. The one that is rich and filled with love and everlasting bond. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy having small talk here and there. However, it’s just not fulfilling for someone like me. I just want to dive into the deep end. I want to know what the person values or what they’re thinking in their mind. I want to know how they perceive life and how they cope and compromise when life throws itself at us.

So yeah…I wonder if anybody else feels the same.

I mean this is still the first quarter. Maybe I’ll meet someone on campus that understand exactly what I’m talking about. And if such person or people exist(s), it would be really nice to get to know them, and it would be really nice for them to get to know me. You know, the other part of me that I normally don’t show to others.

And I wonder if any of my college friends are surprised by the things I write about on here. I wonder if they ever saw me as a person that would feel such a way.

 


 

p.s. I love how the grammar is so inconsistent in this blog post. It just jumps all over the place. It’s great.

if you ask me

If you ask me who he is, I wouldn’t be able to be tell you who.

You see, I was “in love” with this guy over a year ago. He became everything to me. I am who I am today because of him. That’s how much he has impacted my life. He taught me how to laugh, how to smile, how to cry, how to be angry, and how to stand up for myself. He also showed me the little things in life. The things that matter the most in the end.

We used to go out every other night. We would be in his car driving around as we talk about the meaning of life. We would stay up until it was way too late, especially for a high schooler like me at the time. But it was nice. It was nice to be able to have someone that I can just relax around with. Someone I can cry to and know that they won’t judge me or love me any less because of it.

He used to care a lot about me too. He used to make me feel like the most special person in the world. I was the only person he texted. I was the only person he felt comfortable sharing everything with. I was his support and he was mine as well. He loved me more than he wanted to, and he showed it without even realizing it himself until it was too late. The fact he would blow off his family to be there for me. The fact that he drove back in the middle of the night to make sure I was alright after having a huge fight with each other. The fact that he was always with me even when we’re hanging out his girlfriend and his ex. Didn’t that mean something?

He somehow always found his way to me. He always sat next to me in the car. He always walked alongside me. He always crouched next to me and lay his head on the table while I’m sitting there doing my homework. He always tried his best for me even when I was being very unreasonable.

But I couldn’t get over the fact that I was never going to be enough for him. That the one he loves is never going to be me. It was always her. He always chose her in the end. I was just a substitute, and when she was back in the picture, he put her first like he should have done in the first place, but it hurt.

It hurt because I was spending time with him every other day while they only talk on the phone once or twice a week. It hurt because he talked about how he feels like he can be himself around me better than he can be himself around her. It hurt because for the first time in my life, I never felt that kind of connection with someone, and I didn’t want to ruin the friendship that we had. I thought that being friends was enough for me, and it was. I never actually wanted to be more than friends. I just wanted to spend time with him as long as possible and as much as possible before it all ends.

So if you ask me who he is, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.

Because to be frank,  I still don’t know who he is. I thought I knew, and I think it’s becoming easier to figure out who he is or who he was back then. But I honestly just don’t care anymore. I don’t have the urge or the need to figure out what kind of person he is now. I just don’t give a shit about him. I gave a shit about the friendship we had- about all the moments we spent together, but not him.

He put me through hell in the last few weeks of the friendship. He yelled at me, screamed at me, and even wanted to hit me. He constantly put me down and told me how cruel and how manipulative I was. What was it?

“If I come to you now, are you going to hurt me? Are you going to be cruel like the cruel person that you are?”

I don’t know. I really don’t know.

I’m sitting on my bed right now writing this as I spend another Saturday night alone. I can feel the loneliness eating me up slowly one by one as our memories flash before my eyes. And I’m highly confused. Because I miss those moments and the connection that we had, and I wish to be able to experience all of it again. But not with you.

I want to experience it with him. I want to spend the night with him. I want to talk about the meaning of life with him. I want to see him smile. I want to hug him, and I want him to hug me back. I want to love him and give him everything even if he can never give as much back. I want him. And if it ever came down to it, I would choose him over you any day.

 

But the funny thing is…

he didn’t choose me either