“The highest form of love is that which you give to someone who will never be able to repay you.”

A friend posted that on his wall, and it was significant for me because earlier that day I saw this post. A person you respect affirms your greatest enemy — that’s something.

Day by day I get less bothered by it — the idea of her ‘success’ in some way, and I feel that yeah, well, it’s alright. Whatever she was, whatever she is now, whoever she is now, whether she deserves it or not, good things happen to people and it is okay. 

I feel okay.

Maybe sometimes ‘love’ just means not hating and just moving on and slowly being less affected (less insecure, less put down, less of all the negative things). I can be happy for her; it’s okay. 

It’s okay. 

some dents are permanent

I came home tonight to my (old) macbook that had been on ‘retirement’ ever since the retina came into my possession and I felt bad about how ugly and dirty it looked. I tore away the screen protector that served its two years well. I turned it off and took a damp cloth to wipe away the dust and dirt, making it a little more presentable. 

No matter how much I clean it, the dents will be there. The dents from when I dropped it off a table because it was too heavy and I was too careless. 

Yesterday we were watching How I Met Your Mother; that season when Barney and Robin just began to hook up and that episode where Lily forced them to have ‘The Talk.’ I think C was making a reference over dinner: ‘we need to have The Talk.’ He was joking and meant something else but I do not know still what he meant, because we ended up having A Different Talk entirely. 

It was a conversation that led to me asking him what it was like for him, when we actually began dating. It was over Christmas Break of senior year and he thought he was over his ex-girlfriend. But come January and school started and he wasn’t quite and we stopped seeing each other and I was blamed and was called names and he wasn’t the person I wanted him to be. I wish he was, then, but he wasn’t, and I’m envious of him. Envious of his memories. For him, when we first started dating was magical as compared to my memories of pain, sadness, depression, anger, hurt — everything that was most painful for me. He was surrounded by ‘friends’ who were on his side: the same people who judged me and condemned me and blamed me and I felt so alone and hurt and dead. I don’t know if, for him, being ‘over’ it meant I am no longer hurt or saddened by all that had happened in the past. But I told him my memories aren’t so fond or sweet or magical and it’s sad how I can’t feel any happier about how we began even if things are so well and great right now.

This much is true: I still feel a little betrayed when he enjoys the company of people who hurt me most then because he didn’t stand up for me the way I wanted him to, and that was important for me in the past. Really, really important. 

Some memories are like dents like that. Damp cloths just can’t remove it. 

it’s the little fights

I don’t know why, but it’s those small moments that create the heavier arguments. In the aftermath, the divide is a little bigger than what I have expected and somehow it feels as if it is my fault for feeling these things too keenly.

Why do I take those sad little moments to heart?


You asked me out for our first date on the night of Angelica’s birthday dinner. I was crying from a confrontation with Chyna which happened just before I was going to leave with Angelica so I broke down in front of her and I ended up sobbing in her car. I can’t remember right now if it happened before we went to her house (so she can pick a dress) or on the way to the restaurant (I think it was before).

It happened in the car and I was still crying while telling Angelica everything (from the shoot to the kiss and to the I-don’t-really-know-what-to-do-but) when suddenly my phone beeped. I opened the message and shrieked (in pleasant surprise) and showed the text (you sent from Singapore) to Angelica and she said that made her giddy too. 

I think I wanted to go mostly because I was so sad about what Chyna thought and assumed like she’s never known me for two years. I was thinking, well there’s this boy asking me out and it’s probably not something serious but it’s not so bad to have some fun and cheer myself up.

I asked you if I should ask permission from your ex-girlfriend first but you said, no, let’s talk first. I was so easily swayed.

Maybe it was a selfish decision. It was the only thing stopping the tears from falling in the middle of Angelica’s birthday dinner and I was so depressed over my own “celebration”  from a few nights before plus the real birthday night that was tomorrow. I only wanted to be treated nicely, sweetly by a boy and that boy was you. 

The start

Lles and I disagree about a lot of things and agree about a few things. One of those few things we agree about is not being able to write when we’re sad, and possibly being in the best mood to write when we’re in love. So when I was reading Why We Broke Up, with all the words weaving a story about love (albeit a bittersweet one, because everyone knows they broke up) I sort-of felt that I wanted to write a story (again) and it’ll be about us except, hopefully, a happier one.

“Every ending is a beginning,” or some form of that phrase is such a cliche. But it’s true. I ended a fling and your ex-girlfriend ended your relationship and, maybe, I was done being stupid and you were done being sad.

We’ve been almost-friends for two years before. Not really close. You told me you saw me as an acquaintance even, and only as a friend when I started asking you for advice. The whole romantic thing between us felt so out-of-the-blue for me and I don’t think anybody in that old org circle believed that I didn’t like you didn’t want you before really, anything actually happened. Ending up with you was not even on any kind of list that I’ve imagined for myself before graduation. Amidst all the rumors and all the names I had almost nobody to believe that I had not planned anything never imagined anything had never ever foreseen anything happening until one night — the night before you kissed me.

So I guess we were really fast (you were really fast) at first but that’s still not the beginning.

My first unforgettable memory of you was of you singing and playing songs on your ukelele to cheer me up. We were still (just) friends then and I went to you with my confused feelings for a different person because I was being stupid and you told me I wasn’t that type of person. We rode a trike to that burger place across the school (which you haven’t tried) and hung out for maybe an hour while I poured out my jumbled thoughts and feelings and then you shared a little about yours.

(I also remember some of the older alumni passing by and seeing us and Mikko giving me a teasing look which I dismissed because it was so ridiculous then.)

Every time I asked you, you told me the it started for you somewhere around the time when I gave you a letter on my (advance) birthday dinner (which I gave to everyone anyway, except it turned out that ‘everyone’ else hated me but I didn’t know it, which really is a different heartbreaking story and I just can’t ever forget it). I didn’t think it was special and all I remember from that letter was a gesture to cheer you up a little because you were so…lost, and I knew a bit of that kind of feeling. It had a bit of the other letters (apologies and gratitude) and at that time I didn’t know things will change drastically between me and each person I have invited (stupid birthdays, really) but it felt sad already and when everyone was gone and you told me that the letter helped, I said that at least there was one good thing that happened that night. 

But for me. I only ever entertained the possibility of falling for you a night or so later, when Angelica asked us out for some drinks and everyone in their season of sadness was trying to get a little tipsy and we were all heartbroken in our own way. After we, as proper friends, got her drunk enough I started sharing with you a couple of morbid thoughts except you smiled and I thought you understood and before the night ended you asked me to go to a shoot for a film that wasn’t yours. I was hesitant but you called me up when I got home (or maybe you asked me to call you? Because I don’t really remember) and told me you’ve cleared it up with the guys and you would really want me to be there.

And I guess that was it, in the beginning. I was wanted and needed by someone (even though not necessarily in a romantic sense) and I had such a big desire to feel helpful and significant. That was the night that I felt a little…weird about something, which I dismissed pretty quickly, until the evening that followed after. 

That night was when I felt the first sense of doubt and wonder (did I feel something between us or was it the alcohol and my natural weirdness?). It was more like a trigger for something bigger and messier. At that time I still had faith in most people so I never really thought that a start of a romance would bring so much trauma and sadness.

But it did and it took a lot of crying and getting-over-things before I truly felt happy. 


I miss C in between minutes of the day: in between tasks at work, moments of boredom, moments of sleepiness. He doesn’t reply to my texts often; he’s in Laguna and busy (or tired) from a shoot. It’s alright (I understand), but the waiting and anxiety drags me down to idleness (can’t focus on a single task for a long time). How love and missing doom us. 

I’ve stopped waiting for a “possible client” who I may or may not have scared off (with project pricing). But it’s alright. An old email thread has revived and maybe that’s going to give me new prospects although if it doesn’t work out, I’ll just do my best for the next one.

After an unsuccessful attempt trying to design my blog last night, I decided to deal with the design block by finishing the simple blog header I promised a friend weeks ago. The title of the blog is “A Graceless Heart” and for some reason I thought of swans. I’m not very sure why, for swans seem to be graceful in my imagination (as the “Swan Princess” also comes to mind), but it seemed like it fit anyhow.

I wonder why I can’t settle for a theme for my own site. Since I need to populate my portfolio badly, I’ve decided to make time for some personal projects (i.e. no money — again) to experiment with design, text, and code. Some companies I would still want to design/build for: 

  • restaurant 
  • bank (web AND mobile UI/UX strategies) — I am so persistent in this
  • a literary or artist kind of thing — magazine, blog, whathaveyou
  • airline
  • telecom (more than what I have had done for a telecom in the past)

I just really want to design for a big enough client not because of money but because they’d probably have the bigger number of users that would be directly affected by anything I design. And really, more than anything, I just want people to use something I’ve made.

On divorce

I was reading a blog of someone who has been through divorce. It’s been two years and it still breaks his heart and I, as a reader, wanted to know more. Wondered when it happened, wondered how he felt when his wife told him she wanted to divorce him. So I read through his archives and found: 





and finally a post in 2008 that said: “(I love you honey.)” 

I wondered, then, when it started happening for his wife: when the relationship started to feel different, when she started to feel differently. I wondered if he knew; if she told him. Maybe she did. He would have asked, and she would have told him why. Or if he felt the marriage breaking apart bit by bit himself. 

He is a stranger on the Internet for me. Hopefully it isn’t rude that I’m asking these questions (to myself). 

I think about marriages and relationships that break down, that end (eventually). Some seem to have ended, but maybe they have not. Like I told my friend, things don’t have to remain like this forever (with parents separated). You still wouldn’t know what would happen in the future.

Somebody my friend knows gave her mom advice, “In marriage you make a vow: ‘for better or for worse,’ and this is just the ‘for worse.’ You have to be strong for both you and your husband, especially when it is darkest for him.” 

I wonder at what moment someone in a marriage decides to give a final “no” to that vow. I know it is different for everybody, but at least for that guy, the author of the blog, I wonder how much different it would be for him (and his ex-wife) if they didn’t get a divorce. Were things really irreparable? 

– – –

(My views on relationships that aren’t in marriages are different. Boyfriends/girlfriends/dating, no matter how serious, is still a stage, I think, when you’re trying to discern if the other is the best parter for you. Not perfect, but the best is subjective and if it’s a healthy, happy relationship then it’s good. For me, it is less hard to break up from a relationship when you’re not yet married as compared to an after-vow commitment.

Meanwhile, although I realize that there are situations wherein divorce may be the best for both — i.e. an abusive partner, etc. (there can be so many cases and situations), I wonder about the other reasons that people have for divorcing wives/husbands. If one of them would have wanted to try to save the marriage but the other did not — I wonder if it was such a heavy reason for divorce that they cannot try to work the issues out.) 

Making a choice

Some choices are hard to make. This one isn’t. 

Right now I am tired. Literally: my back has been hurting like an old woman since yesterday and my legs are acting up again. 

I wonder if it’s stress.

Either way, I want tomorrow to be a good day. Thinking of taking a sick leave because my body literally feels like a sick, old woman’s and I badly need some sleep. 

(I can’t sleep because I keep on thinking about how to do this or that, worried and hopeful for tomorrow — but mostly looking forward to it. And then for the most part, again, just figuring out how to do it as soon as possible.) 


Night out with Jaime and C. Interesting conversations over alcohol. And Jaime is so cute. :))

  1. I’ve always been a bit hesitant to order Tequila Sunrise because of EPIC at Boracay (their drinks are always too strong for me, or not the perfect mix). But I had three at Bahay ni Juan tonight. So. :P
  2. C’s confidence…is beyond me. :))
  3. It is always nice to listen to the (ongoing/building-up) love-life of a friend. 
  4.  I still stand by my opinion of not dating guys I’m super close / super friends with.
  5. Learned about this “rubix cube” theory C had when it came to the people in his life, which he shared with Jaime over a year ago. So apparently, he had already predicted something would happen between us even before I even considered that idea. His only question then was whether or not it will work out between us. 

    (TBH, the reasons for which I started opening up to him was because of big fat Chance. Things like: he was Jopy’s friend and I needed advice; he had experience of being part of the org and again, I needed advice; we worked together on a few projects and that made me feel comfortable going to him and talking to him about some things…which all comes down to — if not for those, well, he probably wouldn’t even be in the list of people I was going to confide with. He was so nice about the things he’d give opinions on, and he’s like that with everyone, and that’s how I knew him. He was just so nice.) 

  6.  We had a conversation about taking blame; my weird way of “punishing myself” by completely rejecting people. Ironic how I’m the last person on this planet to give him advice, but I still told him that we affect people only to a point. That whatever blame lies on his hand is a responsibility he holds but only to a point

    I confessed that for all Kitkat did to me and however that affected me, I can only blame her to a point. How she makes me feel or how I let her make me feel is my fault already; I have a really bad complex to get over from (which I pitifully tried to explain to Kasey because I deleted my whole post from my old blog where I tried talking about it). It is the same way with C too, I think, and he should stop blaming himself for things he could never really control. 

  7. This may not go for everyone. But. For all the guilt we’ve accumulated, and hurt we’ve given others — well, all those wrong things remain to be wrong. They will never be right. What’s important is that we learn from all those and strive to be a better person. It’s not going to happen all at once, but acceptance is important. When you accept you’re wrong and ask for forgiveness (from others and yourself), you can start working on becoming a better person. Like I said, it can be hard, but you need to start living out a kind of lifestyle where you’re conscious about your choices. Keep grounded and stay down-to-earth, don’t have excessive pride, and take care of good friends: that’s my personal recipe for a self-conscious way of living. :) 

My world feels good again

I’ve been making new friends. I’ve been meeting good people. Better people. Hopefully making better friends. I feel thankful every time I am treated nice by somebody, or when someone listens to me, smiles at me, is just plain good to me. It makes me feel that I won’t have to be so trapped in the memories of the past anymore. 

The world is better out here

Here, where people are respectful, kind, and supportive. 

I think that eventually I won’t be scared of their kind of people anymore. We all learn from our mistakes; I’m making the most out of mine.