A PACK OF STRONG PUNCH

Lifted from my friendster blog dated May 10, 2008

Now I have an idea why people make such a big deal about exes. Y’know… stuff like, getting over the ex. Dealing with the ex. Being friends with the ex. Being the ex.

I know that it’s stupid – and silly — to sound as if my whole life revolved around being somebody’s ex. But I can’t help it… that title packs a pretty strong punch. I am now an official member of the "loved-and-lost" club. And while it’s a title I don’t exactly want, I have to admit that it does say some things about me.
I once loved someone who loved me back. But she didn’t want to stay… So I had to let her go.

I cried. A lot. I spent countless nights wondering what went wrong, muffling my sobs with my pillows so my parent wouldn’t suspect that something was amiss. I’d reminisce about our happy times, then
break down when I’d realize that she was no longer mine. I analyzed every single detail of our breakup. I wrote long e-mails to my closest friends. I talked endlessly about my situation. I spent my nights in tearful telephone conversations and my days in daydreams where we’d end up in each other’s arms again.
Sometimes she was still my angel, still my knight in shining armor who I’d do anything for just to have back. But sometimes, I saw her as the devil incarnate who broke my heart in the worst possible way, and who deserved to be horsewhipped at the very least.

I told myself that it was all for the better. That this was what was best for the both of us. That this was God’s plan. My friends offered similar advice, none of which I hadn’t heard before: "It’s a sign that you’re not meant for each other," "When God closes a door, He opens a window," "Someone better is coming for you," "There are so many other fish in the sea," etc.

But it didn’t work. Because deep down, I still believed that she was the one, the only one. And I couldn’t understand how this was all for the better… when every day seemed more torturous than the last… not being able to be with her the way I wanted to be, seeing her so unaffected, and dealing with my broken-and-smashed heart and my bruised ego.

I tried to immerse myself in other activities to forget about her. I went out a lot. I filled my schedule with movie marathons, computer games among others. It worked for a while… but then there were
times — times when my mind was cleared of the busy thoughts I tried to occupy it with –that I would think of her. Her memory would sneak up to me on tiptoes, catching me in my most vulnerable moments.

I tried to show the world that I was OK. That I was over her. That it was fine just being friends. I didn’t go around with a big "X" on my forehead, nor did I go around with puffy eyes and a tissue box. I tried to live my life as I knew it before I met her. People thought that I was doing great. They heard me laugh and they saw me smile; I seemed happy, they said; and I told myself that I was. But in the solace of my room, where I tried to organize my thoughts and sort out my feelings, I had to admit to myself that I wasn’t truly happy. Because I was still yearning for someone, and my heart still ached for something that could not be.

It’s been 2 months since we broke up, surprisingly, things have gotten better. I’ve changed. Somewhere along the way, I realized that she wasn’t the only one out there for me. I also realized that there were valid, powerful reasons why we split up. And I’ve become stronger, older, wiser.

She’s changed as well — when I look at her, sometimes I still see the girl I fell in love with. Sometimes I think that she’s the same person… she still has the same goofy smile and mischievous charm that I fell for, and I like to believe that the rest of her is unchanged as well. But then I take a
closer look and I realize that she HAS changed… that I don’t know her anymore, not really… not enough to love and care for her as I once did. — my favorite part.. boohoooo!


I’ve loved and lost. I’ve cried tears for the things that were and that could have been. I’ve wrestled with intense feelings of love and hate, of jealousy, of frustration. I’ve simultaneously taken down and
brought up my pride. I’ve tried to rebuild my world without the person whom it used to revolve around. I’ve tried to save myself from the depths of depression and self-pity, and when I couldn’t do that, I turned to God for help.

I don’t know exactly what I gained, or how much I lost. Maybe someday it will be all clear to me… then again, maybe not. lol!