#Throwback is a series I thought to start here in my blog.

The idea is that I will re-post my old writings from years back and to comment on my 2 to 5 years younger self about my predicaments (and possibly immaturity?). The objective is to prove to myself and even to the readers how our vista on life and love changes quickly with time and experiences. As they say, experience is the best teacher. But learning from others’ experiences is wiser as it will save you from possible mistakes and heartaches. Enjoy! 🙂

P.S. By the way, I used pen names before so don’t be confused. 🙂

Title:

WHAT LOVE IS FOR?

Context:

I wrote it four (4) years ago. The story goes like this: I fell in love for someone but he likes someone else. He knew about my feelings.

What my 25-year old self now will tell my younger self:

Dear 21-year-old-Kathy,

Puppy love can go a long way when you are really young. Those butterflies you felt where just your hormones seeking attention. As Taylor Swift said in her song, “When you’re fifteen and somebody tells you he love, you just gotta believe it!” But that is not always the case, girl!

Your own heart can fool you. Your heart can deceive you! In Jeremiah 17:9, our hearts were described as sick and beyond cure. It is deceitful. Never believe what the world says or your feelings say. “Follow your heart” is a lie.

If you could only see yourself 4 years in the future, you will understand what I mean. You will meet a Love greater than the cheap love you described in your article. I hope you learned the lessons these experiences taught you.

Love,

25-year-old-Kathy

********************

WHAT LOVE IS FOR? (Kaloy)

January 7, 2012 at 4:19pm

Sometimes, I wake up in the morning with the first thing on my mind is wonder. I keep on wondering if he, too, is awake? I wonder, does he ever thought of me like this? Or even caught a glimpse of me for a moment or so?

But I certainly know the answer.

For I know, he’s not.

And for the record, it hurts–badly.

It hurts me knowing that no matter how I tried to be perfect for him, my perfection is still nothing. It hurts being ignored yet all the while it’s him that I’ve been noticing for long. It hurts that he doesn’t pay attention to what I was trying to tell him. It hurts me, with him, saying everything will be OK–normal–soon. He said I would eventually realize that it’s not love that I feel. It is really pathetically absurd that he could tell me those words without ever realizing the twinge in my heart that he has caused.

It sucks hearing him say that he’s sorry.

I don’t want those words.

It breaks my heart seeing him everyday; exchanging talks that I know would never lead us to being more than friends. Ironically, I am now starting to dread the days, hours or moments that he is in the same space as mine. Instead of feeling yellow butterflies tickle me, I could feel nothing but remorse for a bittersweet friendship.

Courage is my only ally; expecting what could have been is fatal.

What we have right now is a shot to the moon with what could have been if only he realized it, too.

At night, I am too eager to sleep. For it is only in my sweet nightmares that he is with me. It is only in dreams that I could break free;  I could tell him all that I wanted to say. It is only in my dreams that I could love him. What hurts the most is the need to wake up–again–to reality.

Once upon a time, I fell in love. That was long ago. I was expecting and waiting for a happy ending in this story. But the truth came face-to-face to me, slapped me, and told me that I was just an unnecessary character in a love story.

For the love story was not mine; it’s theirs.

It’s his love story with the princess he loves.

It hurts–the feeling of being blotted out from the writer’s story because I was unfit; the villain, who, always in the end, loses just because the story is not about her.

There is no sense being told by my friends to let go of him. It’s not just that really easy. It would be like being directed to forget how to breathe.

But I am not fool to see the sad truth.

I know I would let go.

I just don’t know when.

I just don’t know how.

People we meet in our journey in life serve unique purposes. There are people we meet in our neighborhood, in school, on the train or even in the streets. No matter how they came to our lives, they are there for a purpose. People, like feelings, may come and go. People, like feelings, may come and stay. And people, like feelings, COULD stay. But no one is assured of forever.

Forever is within ourselves.

Everything fades; everything perishes.

People may go and forget but the lessons and memories they shared could only be remembered.

One can’t take back time.

People we love may feel the same. But no law ever mandates that it is to be reciprocated.

People come to love us; people come to hurt us. But one thing’s sure.

People come to teach us.

Someday, I would be able to sink those words in my heart. As I said, courage is my only friend now. And courage is nagging me to accept things I cannot change.

If he’s not for me, then I’d gladly accept it with tears in my eyes. Human nature dictates the eyes to express what the heart cannot express.

If he’s for me, then I’d gladly accept it with tears, too. For nothing could ever explain the joy I would feel than tears that would run down my face like a dark, stormy night. For like that storm, the waiting of that fateful day is like a dark, stormy night. But surely, after the storm, the sky would be clear again and would brush away the fears, hate and anger of the passing night. I could happily express that another day has dawned upon my heart.

Someday, I could look straight in his eyes and be happy for us. I wont care how we are at that time that someday came. I would only see acceptance as I gaze in his eyes. What is significant for me now is that I was brave enough to tell him. I was brave enough to accept what’s in store for me. And I was bold enough to prepare my heart for whoever I might be meant for.

Someday, I will surely be bold enough to smile to  him and greet him as his princess is happily clinging to his arms.

Someday, I know, someday will come.

This is what love for–giving all you can and accepting things as they come.

Even if it means somehow hurting myself in the process.

Someday, I know this will come.

Not too late, so soon…

…after the crying is finally over.

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