Letter to My Ex.



Hey there, stranger.

It’s been a very long time, which I’m sure you’re aware of. I’d like to say that it was my decision alone to keep this distance, but I think we both know it was for the best. I’d like to say that I’m glad you are well, but as we both know I have absolutely no idea how you are. The one thing that can definitely be said is that when we cut ties, we leave no strand behind, but slice right through until we no longer remember how to find each other. It’s amazing to think that once we were inseparable, the best of friends and each other’s half.

You knew me inside and out once. We were there for each other in the best of times and through the most difficult of times. We definitely managed to put each other through hell on occasion, but when support was needed the most, support was given. Until, of course, that final day. I sometimes find myself wondering why we couldn’t stay in touch. Would it be so bad if we got together for coffee from time to time? Or if we gave each other a text to see how the other was doing? Surely we could send a text to wish each other a Happy Birthday? Or a Happy New Year? I mean, we’ve been through so much. You are a part of my life and there is nothing I can do to ever change that. But then I realized that it’s quite impossible to do that, to keep on being friends. We were both broken and even though we have taken the time to put the pieces back together, even though we might look intact, we were never quite the same as we’d been before the fall.

The heart was made to be broken and mine was shattered by your hands. Back at that time, when you told me you’ve decided to be together with Kristy because she needed you. I didn’t go off on you, didn’t throw my shoes at you, and didn’t look at you. I sat there and smiled and congratulated you two like an idiot. I sat and watched you vanished from my life. You used to tell me that sometimes you’re jealous of me. Because my heart is hot to the touch and yours is cold, as cold as the breath of death. I told you that I would give up my heart to yours just so you won’t have to be trapped in your destitute and even if you’ve decided to walk alone in the path of life, I would walk with you. You would smirk and call me stupid. About 3 months after you left, I would wake up in the morning and realized the first thing that came to my mind wasn’t you anymore. I thought I was moving on but then you came along once again. You apologized, told me you fucked up and that you were confused by your feelings. Despite the warnings from our friends, I got back together with you. 3 weeks later, you told me we are too young to know what love is and you aren’t sure if you love me. More importantly, you said you were sure I didn’t love you because I’ve never run after you. So we broke up, again. I was even more devastated this time. I forgot how to laugh for a while. It felt like that part of me was dead. Anne was dead. Perhaps this is what the stories meant when they called somebody heartsick. Your heart and your stomach and your whole insides felt hollow and empty and aching.

I go off to college, people call me Hanie. Except for our group of friends, no one calls me Anne anymore. Probably because they don’t even know who Anne is and that she once lived. It’s been what? 2 years? People would tell me to move on because life moves too fast to wait on anyone. If you don’t move on, you get left behind, that’s the rule of the game. I’ve changed a lot in those 2 years. I’m no longer a believer of love and I have trust issues. I’ve become less considerate, less cheerful, more sarcastic and harsh with my words. I secretly laughed when people told me that I’m a really nice person. If I was to meet them as Anne, wouldn’t I be a saint then? I met guys in college who made me laugh. I didn’t fall in love with them, of course, but they made me laugh. It felt good to know that even though my heart was almost as cold as ice like yours is, it was still possible for someone to make me laugh. You told me that you’ve understood the horror of losing a best friend because you were stupid enough to fall in love with me and when you lost me, you’ve also lost your best friend and your heart was broken. You told me you miss Anne, I do too. But we killed her, yes, both of us. Sometimes I want to forget everything. But I can’t forget you. You can’t be forgotten because forgetting you, would be like forgetting that part of me — impossible. I’m not pointing fingers, nor am I blaming you. I also wanted to let you know that I was and still am very grateful for the nights you would stay up at the hospital with me after Elaine passed away. I believe I never did thank you. It’s probably something that has to do with my arrogance and stubborn self. So Thank you.

You told me last night, that you want us to be friends again and possibly starting over. But I don’t think so. I had loved you and a part of me will always love you and care about your beings. But maybe being a part is the right way after all. Maybe we are better off as far apart as possible. We know we aren’t right for each other. We know it would never work, and we know the friendship we have — we had — created a bond that would make slipping back into romance too easy. It would make repeating the same mistakes too likely, repeating the same heartbreak certain. That’s what it really comes down to: It’s not only my heart that I’m worried about, but yours as well. Breaking my own heart would be my responsibility to bear, but I can’t once again be responsible for breaking yours. Don’t worry; we’ll still see each other at the annual Christmas and Summer Reunion.

So all that I can do is to wish you the best. Wish you a great, bright, loving future. Wish you to find the lover of your dreams and to create a lifetime of your fantasies. I wish for you to find a friend as great as me, but a much better partner. One who won’t drag you through the mud. One who you won’t feel the need to bury with guilt. I wish you all the best and nothing short of happiness.

Your Lost Ex & Best Friend
P.S. Get a girlfriend faggot.
P.S.S. Stop texting Kim to ask about me all the time, it’s getting annoying and creepy.


How to Fall.


“Falling in love is like riding a bike for the first time”. Why? Because it’s scary. And nerve racking. And terrifying. ‘Cause just like learning anything and everything else, we get excited, we tend to hesitate or the opposite, we result to rushing into it, then, we get on the bike and bam! Next thing you know, all these ironic emotions and mixed feelings starts to fill all four chambers of our hearts. Suddenly, everything is just so overwhelming. Everything is over powering. Every sensation we feel has a concurrent feeling of adrenaline rushing all throughout every vein in our bodies.
And then, we start to question ourselves, “What the hell did I get myself into?” Questions as to why this is something that’s never easy starts to settle. Nevertheless, the anticipation of succeeding is always and forever going to be in the back of our heads. Also, the desire to reach the point of triumph right that very second surfaces.
But you see, “Falling in love is like riding a bike for the first time.”
The feelings we feel deep down are never settling. We’re nervous. We’re anxious. And we kind of just want to get it over with. ‘Cause once we start to pedal, there’s no turning back. We’re moving slowly, but we’re moving surely. There’s one direction and no way to reverse our position. We just have to keep moving forward. We just have to continue what we have started. Because falling in love? It’s like riding a bike for the first time.
And for the first time, just like every first times, we may fall. We get cuts and bruises in the process, but they’re part of learning how to ride and how to ride better. The scars serves as reminders so we don’t make the same mistakes over and over. The bumps and marks represents our hard work and determination to reach our goal. Though at times it could be discouraging and it seems as if our heart is about to give out, we just need to be patient. We just need to be persistent. We just need to be relentless. ‘Cause when the right time comes, we’ll get there. We’ll get to our destination. We’ll get to be where we want to be.
Falling in love is like riding a bike for the first time. We take several chances and step into a side of uncertainty. It’s a mixture of hundreds, maybe even thousands of different emotions. Just like love, it’s a lot of trial and error. It’s a whole lot of heart breaks and soul searching. But when we figure it out, we’ll always know how. It’ll always almost be like an aquired habit or skill deeply ingrained in our bodies. It’ll alway almost be - involuntary.
Just like riding a bike for the first time, falling in love take a lot of courage. The fearlessness to get on, to learn how and the preparation and anticipation of falling takes a whole lot of heart. Because falling in love, we pride ourselves in making bad decisions to find clarity within to make even better ones. We strengthen ourselves so we are capable of taking chances and risks. And so, even if it doesn’t get any easier each time we try, we are knowledgeable and experienced enough to work through it and handle it better each and every given time.
My advice? Just fall in love. Learn, as if you are learning how to ride a bike for the first time. Prepare yourself to make all the errors. It’s a given. Don’t be afraid to fall or make mistakes. ”It’s okay if you’re scared”, because "The only thing scarier than falling in love again, is not falling in love again"

Just a thought July 2014.


Lovers are always in the state where they say how much they love each other. Isn’t it wonderful how they keep on transforming the thoughts and feelings they have to the words with sounds everyone knows will just fade away in a split of second? But they both know, the idea’s already tattooed in their minds, and carved in their hearts. Have they wondered, if it will lasts forever or be just a dust someday that even the strongest bond can’t bring it back to its once lovely form? Some admit, they fear the day the strongest quake comes in their way that will probably leave crevices in their hearts. Most fear the day when tornado’s finally ready to separate them apart. Too tragic. Beings who are loving for real will never ever be ready for that. But trials are inevitable. Risks are something to be taken to make a relationship stronger. In a road of love, it’s not always fairy tale, it’s more like a horror train booth. It’s up to you if you’re gonna let yourself be scared and leave or just enjoy the ride you enter until the end knowing someone’s beside you holding your hand…the grip which keeps on tightening. The one who’s worthy to be with in a ride is the person who won’t just be with you forever with other people, but also the one who is willing to journey the forever with you when others are backing down.

Suffocating.



I feel like there are a million things I want to say, but I just can’t find the words to do the justice. If you ask me how I feel right now, I’d say I don’t even know and that feeling of not knowing is starting to become so familiar. I thought I have found myself once again and regained even just a bit piece of clarity but somehow, every time I feel like I am feeling any close to comfort, I find myself falling back into a hole I no longer find a ground. I keep falling. And when I feel like I stop, just so I can look up to see how far I’ve gone, I free fall once again. Fuck. This time, even faster. This time, even deeper. Sometimes, I don’t even know where to begin to save myself.

All too familiar.

'Cause it's an all too familiar story. And though we run through the same shit each and every given time, but we decide to stay. Why? Because we keep hoping and praying things will be different the next time around. That this time, it will all be a different story. One that is written in our favor. One who's character are built to be perfect and be given the perfect situation. But let's face it, it's still an all too familiar story.
'Cause you find yourself saying the exact same things. 'Cause you find yourself being in the same exact place. 'Cause you find yourself feeling the same exact emotions. And at one point, you even realize just how sickening it is. How frustrating and how repetitive. And annoying. And how much of a bullshit you're putting yourself through by letting your emotions get the best of you. And slowly, the reality starts to sink in and you realize just how much more and how much better you deserve but yet, here you are.
And it’s still an all too familiar story. And it just goes on and on and on and on. All you can do is wish for something to be different. Just once, just this once. And yet, everything is still the same old shit. And you want nothing more than to make it stop. And you want nothing more but to lock it away. Away from your sight. Away from your mind. Away from your heart. And you want nothing more than to walk far far away from it all. Until one day, you wake up and it’s still an all too familiar story. But now, you’ve finally decided to leave.
You are letting go. You are moving on. Now, you’re done reading the same book with an all too familiar story. The only difference is, is that now, you’re walking away from it all, walking away for the same old bullshit that keeps happening over and over, because sometimes, you leaving and simply walking away is easier than fighting for what you truly desire. You’ve finally realized that fact that what you want, what you long for, what you are dying to have, isn’t even willing to fight for you. With that being said, tell me, why should I think it’s even worth it?



P.S. Loving this dress from Forever 21.

Resilient Heart.



Just like everything in life, in order to get from one place to another, there is always a journey you are bound to go through. If you really think about it, there are so many things you did, you felt and you had to experience to be the person that you are right now. You see, it took you twenty something years to understand why you do the things that you do, feel the emotions that you feel, and how you handle situations when life gives you the good, the bad and the ugly. But no matter what happened in the past, you, yes you, were able to look pass everything and you moved on.
Your heart is a resilient organ. It keeps going no matter how much it is struck and broken. With every defeat, with every setback and with every beating, it comes out stronger than it was before. You might have cried your self to sleep for three or four days straight. You might have called your girlfriends to stay up with you and binge watch your favorite show while you pound a bottle of wine after another. You might have missed your bus stop, daydreaming about what would have been, could have been, and should have been if you were still together. But after some time, little by little, the gaping hole in your heart, the one that throbs with every thought of it, starts to shut. And one day, you can wake up and look in the mirror and find yourself feeling fine. And actually mean it.
In a perfect world, it would have been different. There would be no heartaches and heartbreaks, nor pictures being deleted or letters being thrown, or phone lines to be disconnected, or names to remove off a lease, or silly videos of you two saying “Forever and ever”, nor divorce papers and endless memories you try to forget. This isn’t the perfect world and we all get hurt. We all get our fair share. And there are times that you want to scream at the top of your lungs just to see if that can ease the pain, or you drink yourself to sleep because sometimes, the pain is so unbearable, or you feel like your heart is literally and physically aching and bleeding and excruciating with every beat and every thought and every recollection.
But just remember, your heart is a resilient organ. It keeps going no matter how much it is struck and broken. With every defeat, with every setback and with every beating, it comes out stronger than it was before.
All of this is nothing but a part of your journey. It’s all right to cry and fall apart right now but tomorrow, you have to let it go. You move on not because there’s nothing else to do, but you move on because there will be better things out there for you. And trust me, you do.


Definition of Love.




Love is a funny thing. You expect it to be easy. You expect it to be a world of roses and laughs and perfect moments that you find only in movies. You expect her to always say the right thing, and always know exactly how you feel, or exactly how to react to it. You expect her to calm you down when you’re yelling or to chase you when you run away. You expect so much that you feel entirely, and utterly defeated when something doesn’t exactly match up with all your plans. But that’s the thing. Love isn’t a plan. It doesn’t have a certain beginning and it certainly has no end or visible finish line to those deeply in it. Love happens; it is so incredibly messy. People around you can’t comprehend why you do the things you do, or why you fight so hard for something that seems to cause you so much pain, because simply, they can’t see. They can’t see the invisible ring of insanity that surrounds you when you’re in love. It’s inconvenient and painful and devastating at times, but we can’t live without it. What you don’t learn is how hard love is. How much work it takes. How much of ourselves we have to put into it. How it isn’t worth it until we are complete and utter idiots about it. Love isn’t her calming you down when you yell. It’s her yelling, just as loud, just as hard, right back at you, right in your face to wake you up and to keep you grounded. It isn’t her/him bringing you roses everyday or cute things that make your relationship appear more presentable. It’s after a long fight, that drains the life and bones right out of you both, and yet her showing up at your door the next morning anyway. It’s not her saying all the right things or knowing exactly how to handle you. So no, it’s not her caressing your hair and telling you everything is going to be alright. It’s her standing there, admitting she’s just as scared as you are. You have to remember that with love, you’re not the only one involved. You’ve unknowingly put your life, your heart into the palms of another persons hands and said, here. Do what you will. Mash it into mince meat. Or forget I ever handed it to you. As long as you have it. It makes us crazy. It makes reality invisible and it erases all the lines that we shouldn’t cross. Because love isn’t about fencing ourselves in; feeling safe, feeling sure about the future. It’s about scaring the shit out of every nerve in our body, but pushing forward anyway. Because all the fighting and all the tears and all the uncertainty is worth it. And it’s a hell of a lot better, than being 100% happy without someone to show us that there is a world of a difference between feeling ‘happy’ and feeling whole.