These are but vain attempts to express, by one who wears her heart on her sleeve. Words, much like love, can be ever elusive... ever frustrating... like trying to paint a million stories on a single canvass. If you will read, please do not ask. Just feel. Or at least try to. The meaning is, whatever you have felt to be there, or the lack thereof :)

Fool's Choice

"The hardest thing I've ever done is keep believing there's someone in this crazy world for me. The way people come and go through temporary lives, my chance could come and I might never know... " - I Know I Need to be In Love (The Carpenters)

Idealism is as idealism does. I have already been told when I was still very young that it will get me no where. I guess they were mistaken. For one, I think they have misunderstood idealism for perfection. And because of and even despite of it, I have somehow been to "places" I never even dreamt setting my foot on. Yet in the most intimate matters of the heart, faith and idealism are two things that are hard to sustain. Quite hard in fact that to some extent, it is foolishness.

To have faith is to believe without proof. Along with idealism, it is the equivalent of a passionate yet waiting heart, who nobody asked to wait in the first place, that doggedly believes in THE ONE. It could be quite hysterically ridiculous if one considers the fact that there isn't even a standard meaning for the word "LOVE". How could something which someone could very well feel for several persons in varying degrees be reserved for just ONE? And how could one know who that ONE is? The world ever continuously unfolds and one cannot say when a revelation of something is all there is to it. In the end, everything comes back to this word - CHOICE.

I am a fool, I know. I know too that I am a knowing fool. To know what I want and to wait, whether it comes or not, is a choice. If I make such a choice for myself, I understand that I must face the consequences, ready or not. Nobody asked me to wait. Nobody is asking me to give up. Sometimes however, I grow cold and intensely lonely during my watch that the idea of it becomes really appealing. As time passes, so too grows my understanding of harsh realities in direct proportion to my cynicism. I have become an odd creature of contradiction. I no longer believe in pure intentions and yet I still insist that love can be real. But then, what else is there to believe and live for if I give up?

More than a choice, my belief is also a necessity. I have to believe. I already know that life is hard and harsh and painful and even evil. If I have believed that it is all that life could ever offer me, I might have courted death as soon as I've realized that. I have known love though. I have been blessed enough to know it in several guises. I know too that there is more of it that I haven't known yet; that I am yet to see the best. This certainty is borne out of the very knowledge that as a person, I still am capable of knowing and accomplishing a thousand and more things. It is as certain as the fact that no one knows just how many discoveries about the universe still awaits us.

I have chosen to be this kind of fool- one who grows both in understanding and uncertainty, who constantly hovers between despair and passionate belief, and who gets seemingly wiser, crazier and lonelier in the insistence that there indeed exist somewhere an ideal just biding its time to be revealed. But I merely babble. All I actually want to say is this: I just cannot kill hope... so I wait.

So baby I will wait for you
Coz I don't know what else I can do
Don't tell me I'll run out of time
If it takes the rest of my life
Baby I will wait for you
If you think I'm fine, it just ain't true
I really need you in my life
No matter what I have to do, I'll wait for you
I'll be waiting...

- WAIT FOR YOU (Elliott Yamin)

ever elusively yours...

3:41 AM 5/11/2007

hey there. i guess we remain to be elusive from each other. i am acting like i'm complaining just like the usual but of course, nothing at all is usual in writing to a yet unrevealed you. so how come i am doing this now?

I guess I just plain miss writing to someone. it has been too long since i last attempted to put my thoughts and feelings onto paper and sent it. and those last attempts have been mostly painful because of the reasons and the consequences. i don't think i can and will ever accept silence as an answer no matter how much it kills me... yet ironically, that's what i have found myself guilty of these last few weeks. i have been refraining from doing any serious writing at all. the idea was there all right, it actually hounded me but i never made the time to actually act on it. and so i just felt drained; ironically empty by refusing to spill out my guts like the way i used to. i must have really changed in a lot of ways in spite of remaining to be deceptively simple. some things, as i am continually being made to believe, cannot really be altered. like the fact that i am a creature of words and ideas and that it is important for my survival to express them in any way that I can. i think it is why i feel very much like i'm lacking in oxygen lately. i haven't given in to the voice of my profound self in a while. in trying so hard to focus my attention on the seemingly more important things like work and school and the many personal problems of people dear to me, i have denied my self its own nourishment. I guess too that I just plain miss you, yet again....

It is very funny to a point really in spite of the irony - that I refuse to wait and yet here I am, hoping that one day you really will come; that i am a realist and yet, i am indulging myself in this delusion; that i am often most sensible but i am wallowing in this form of craziness... well, so much for survival.

i do not want to sound defensive anymore by explaining and expounding my every statement. i just want to be myself and "hear" myself out this way. it actually doesn't matter if there is really you. come to think about it, if you indeed exist, you are actually but an extension of myself, an alter-ego of sorts. ever heard what they say that love is just the joy of finding yourself in another person? i believe in that. how can you possibly love someone who doesn't share and sometimes, cannot even respect the things that are important to you? the challenge of opposition maybe attractive but how long can such a game last? definitely not for a lifetime.

this just again emphasized to me how relative the meaning of love is. funny that its very mystery lies in the fact that it really isn't mysterious at all since it is defined by the things that are important to us for various reasons- time, effort, habit, intensity, novelty... indeed life is but one overwhelming irony! a lot like you really. i feel you are out there and also but biding your time but, how can that be? i might as well be just hallucinating, although the cup of coffee that i have with me right now is not even strong enough to induce one.

i cannot run from love can I? but is love even walking after me?

when questions are asked, the answer is always either a "yes" or a "no". for me however, its neither. its just you.


Number 2

Make no mistake about it. I am here. I am waiting. For how long, I don’t know. I just know that I need to have space to air these thoughts so that what could be my romantic heart (I’m beginning to doubt if I really have one) can somehow have space enough to pump and still lengthen my life. And make no mistake about it, I hate you still, whoever you may be, whether real or imagined. I hate you the more because of the uncertainty and the mystery that surrounds your being. But then, if you are someone certain even if I still do not know you yet, will it make anything easier?

What is taking you so long? Where in the world could you be? Are you even born yet? Have I already met you? If not yet, when? Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid questions…. And yet, the temerity of me to ask!

I really hate you!!!! I doubt that if ever you did come, you can convince me that you are for real. By then, if it does happen, I might be too cold and numb to give a whit of concern no matter if it’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime chances. I believe I’ve already lived several lifetimes. This present moment is one of them. The next one would begin, perhaps, if someone who could be, and who might as well be you comes along. Meanwhile, I believe it would do me good to nurture this “hate.” Somehow, it will help me live out the wait….
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