I went out for dinner and drinks with long-time friends
Carla and John last Monday. One of John’s
friends, Miel joined us. I met her once
before but it was only last Monday where we really got to talking. She was telling us about a bad breakup that
she had:
“Para akong tanga, nasa
office umiiyak sa harap ng monitor ko.
And my officemates would pass by and ask if I was okay. Syempre hindi
ako okay!”
Carla looks at me and says, “O Bunny, parang ikaw!”
And as Celine Dion once sang, “It’s all coming back to me now”.
It’s probably going to be a good thing that hardly anyone
comes here anymore. Because the truth
is, I haven’t fully recovered, but I'm almost there. And like a spoiled carton of milk still sitting in the fridge, this feeling is way past its expiration date. Mas matagal pa yung recovery period kesa sa
actual lifespan ng relationship. What gives?
At the beginning, I thought what I needed was a relationship
sorbet: a guy who is completely not your type but you go out with him anyway
for the sole purpose of cleansing your palate.
And I had the perfect guy—he was cute, he liked me and I couldn’t connect with him on an emotional level. I was
safe.
Apparently, I am not built that way. Not that kind of girl. Hindi ko
pala kaya. And to this day, I am still trying to creatively ward off this
guy. He still asks me out despite the handful
of turndowns he’s gotten from me. I’m seriously running out of excuses. And this is a little
mean of me but every time he posts a comment on a photo or status of mine in
facebook, I delete it.
So why am I still not over?
Quite simple, really. Because
when Jun and I broke up, I felt like I lost 2 people.
A boyfriend and most importantly, a bestfriend. And while I still believe that we would/could have been great together if he had tried, it's my bestfriend I miss more.
We don't really talk anymore but we're still friends. From being someone who I would talk to about the most pressing matters of every facet of my life, our conversations have now been demoted to "small talk" and sporadic messages on facebook about not-so-important bits and pieces of our lives. Over the past few months, there have been countless of times where I needed him, needed to talk to only him, and I would stare at my phone while telling myself no, you are not calling him.
Maybe it's not time. Maybe when my heart stops skipping a beat everytime a message from him pops up on my screen, that's when I know that I've completely recovered.
"The only way to really know is to really let it go
Maybe in the future, you're gonna come back
You're gonna come back around."-- Maybe, Ingrid Michaelson
