#JWI: Ten

There was a time when i slept over at their place. It was a friend’s birthday and we spent dinner over – just pizza and soda and meeting his cousin – and that time i was still disillusioned of my overly affectionate feelings for this person. The lights have been turned off and everyone but one was settling in to sleep. And he was there getting ready for bed and i was sitting on one of the other beds and in a surge of momentary braveness i called his name and said, Happy birthday, my arms wide open for a hug. Because i felt like being spontaneous and because i thought we knew each other enough to know that gestures like those were okay, at least between our little circle. But what i got was stunted silence and a stammering, Wait lang, and a second later the moment was gone, now replaced with an awkwardness i will not soon forget. He finished fixing his bed but by that time i was embarassed enough and no one wanted to get back to what happened a few seconds ago. It was the first substantial hit to my perfect illusion of a happy relationship with him, with those people.

I don’t think we ever got past that. Years later we kept seeing each other, and though at times it felt like things were working, there were moments when the barrier simply stood a little harder to break between him and me.


Experience is a brutal teacher but you learn. My god, do you learn. – C.S. Lewis


Mood: melancholic. it’s the first rain of summer.
Now Playing: Christina Perri – Arms | You put your arms around me and I believe that it’s easier for you to let me go.

Maybe In Another Universe, I Deserve You by Gaby Dunn




What if, in another universe, I deserve you?

Hear me out. There’s this philosopher from the 1890s named William James, and he coined this theory about “the multiverse” which suggests that a hypothetical set of multiple universes comprises eve
rything that can possibly exist simultaneously.

Are you following? The entirety of space, time, matter and energy is all happening at once in different timelines: It’s the idea of parallel universes. Right? So okay, let’s presume the multiverse is real.

Well then, maybe somewhere in those infinite universes is one, or several, where I deserve you.

Maybe there’s a universe out there — happening now — where we end up together and when I close my eyes at night, I’m not dreaming the way a normal person would. Instead I’m seeing flashes of our lives in the multiverse. They’re not simple dreams because I miss you, right? They’re scientific, anachronistic visions.

For instance:

In this universe, I don’t want a family, but maybe in another, I’m more of the type to settle down. Maybe there’s a universe where you hold my hand while I give birth to our daughter in a white hospital room with pink flowers and fuzzy teddy bears on the window sill. Where we take family vacations and pose for dorky pictures in our neon bathing suits on the sands of a Florida beach. Where we curl up to watch a cheesy movie at the end of a long day in our big, green, suburban house once the kids have fallen asleep.

Maybe there’s a universe where we are middle-aged and taking our child to college and bickering over where to put her dresser or what posters she should hang up. Where you kiss her on the forehead ‘goodbye’ and we drive home in contented, proud silence, your fingers grazing my knuckles, our wedding rings glistening. Where we both have gray hair and we laugh and smile and hug and drink lemonade on the porch.

Maybe there’s a universe where that’s the life I want. Where I don’t second guess everything and I’m not afraid of commitment and of the future and of love. Maybe there’s a universe without all the noise in my head and the pride that makes me so fiercely independent and the coldness in my heart that I can turn on and off like a security fence.

Maybe there’s a universe where I’m the right person for you. Where I adore every nice thing you did for me without starting to resent you. A universe where you actually end up with someone who appreciates you. Where no one becomes a doormat. Where both of us can shed our baggage and curiosity and issues. A universe where we’re happy — without wondering if that happiness is some messed-up Jenga game ready to topple at the slightest quiver. A universe where we’re comfortable and sure, and we have cats.

Maybe there’s a universe where we fall asleep next to each other every night like spoons, like two innocent bunnies — my face buried in your neck, hugging your warmth — and we both don’t want anything or anybody else. Where we don’t want more, we just want each other.

Maybe there’s a universe where I don’t covet so much all the time and where I’m content and where I don’t wonder about picking up and moving to Japan without saying anything to anyone and where at this very juncture, I can just know I’ll always want to come home and cook dinner with you.

If you think of it all this way, then it’s like neither of us did anything wrong.

You just found me in the wrong universe. That’s all. This is, as they say, the darkest timeline. Everywhere else, nay, “everywhen” else — us in the Civil War, us in Ancient Egypt, us in the swinging ’60s — we are happy.

If this theory holds, well, by the law of averages, there had to be one universe — just this one — where we don’t end up together. Here and now just happens to be it. If you think of it this way, nothing is our fault.

So see, that explains everything. We’re not together anymore because of the multiverse.

Well, isn’t that comforting?

If you’re sad, do like I do and just think of the other ‘verses. The ones where I believe in love and where I don’t hate myself and where I never feel the need to kamikaze relationships. A universe where we can have nice things. It’s helpful, right?

Because you could have loved me forever. And maybe in another universe, I let you.

Letter To You 09-22-13


We went there, didn’t we — to that point where we both knew everything was going to be fucked up.

We dared, despite knowing whatever existed between us was not strong enough for that kind of settlement. It wasn’t bravery. It was recklessness – a moment spurred by the endpoint of eventual, momentary, gratification. It was foolishness in the very basic level.

having put my trust in you, I thought you’d know better. That you’d at least stop me from plunging in. But was temptation, wasn’t it? One of us knew where it was really going and because the other was clueless enough, the benefit outweighed the risk. Brilliant. You do realize there’s a big chance of me learning from everything you did and then damning up the game by flipping the tables on you, right? People would say it isn’t me to act that way but they don’t know what you did to me. And just like every superlative emotion, pain could make a person do uncharacteristic things.

Yeah, we still went there.

Never again though. Should time permit that what we come close to being what we were before, you can expect me to know better now. You won’t have the power to hurt me anymore. 

Letter to You


There always is a choice. There always will be wishes. Sometimes they are the same things. And honestly right now I wish you’d text me and ask if you could come over because as much as I hate the way you tease and make me feel inferior, i’d still rather that any day if it means you’d be here falling asleep with me.

I tell myself not to waste time trying to think of “what ifs”. The matter had been settled before and despite the words of colleagues saying otherwise, dwelling on it would only result to things going bad and awkward. I teach myself to appreciate the fact that nothing was promised and that there is so much more I could have. ‘You will act and think brightly, for the sake of keeping what’s left of yourself. You cannot afford to be so distracted when the other party isn’t. Stop waiting. Start moving on.’ That was my mantra.

The worst thing about it, however, is that I cannot tell anyone. When I hurt, when I miss you, when matters become too confusing that I just want somebody else’s point of view. I am confined to a manner of thinking which I don’t know is not very much educated on this matter. I know things, but when it comes to emotions as strong as this I wish you would not test me so. I have not been weathered for it. And you know I fear being broken the most.

Yet contradictingly i’d like to have a moment. Just one more. My selfishness pushes me to ask that if you haven’t grown tired, given up or found somebody else yet, maybe I could have just one more meeting. A last one. You still are one of the best things that happened to me. For that I will be thankful. I just wish things didn’t have to be so complicated.

From now I begin to withdraw towards the place that I should have been in  originally – before the line. Friendship, after all, is ultimately what we have. We had a good run, you and I. But i’m afraid to fall further and as cheesy as it sounds I know you won’t be there to catch me. So it stops.


The Art of Choice

For a world that has become so different it had, at times, been unrecognizable.. whether it be for practicality reasons or selfishness, choose the one who will love you. In that way, if and when you decide to reciprocate on the emotion that is so beautifully granted to you, there shall only be joy on his part.

Instead of saying, “Love is learned”, I think the more appropriate term is, “Love is gradual.” For some it might have been a mere expression of gratitude and still to others it might just be a situation of staying-with-you-because-there-simply-is-no-one-else but I believe that over time, one learns to realize the fortune of being so loved that the same affection will emerge.

Love is never always returned, yet we must also remember that friendship is already a form of love. Wouldn’t you settle for it if it’s the only thing capable of being given back?

And yet somehow when it comes to one’s thinking, to you who have been so fortunate to be awarded of such love, for practicality reasons or selfishness, companionship or a possibility of a gradual reciprocation, choose the one who will love you.

Become that one less hurting person and bring happiness to the one who’s patient enough to wait.