Hurt and hated

He was saying so much. Everything was unclear. It was all just too difficult. This time last year, things were so different. He was tired, I was tired. We were this close, too close, to just…. giving up. I hated him, he hated me.

Getting ahead of myself. Let’s give him a name. Evan. Sounds close enough. See, Evan and I had the best relationship. Perfect, really! I loved every minute I spent with him on our first year and a half together. Oops sorry, I know this isn’t really how I wanted to introduce my favorite guy in the world (next to my Daddy, fosho) since this post will turn up really bad in the middle. Literally and figuratively.

We started out great until circumstances and differences chose to change the both of us. We were running out of time. We both wanted different things from each other that we can never provide. I was beginning to think it’d be some sort of an away-bati relationship, but I promised to myself that will never happen to my first boy I will ever truly love (Evan is my first boyfriend). All the other people were telling me, mag-aaway at mag-aaway kayong dalawa. It’s part of any relationship anyway. I forced myself to think otherwise. I was determined to have the happiest little perfect love story. But well, you can’t have this storybook ending for every romantic story. You know very well how it goes. We fight, we get jealous, we cry. For weeks, we have both been hurting. And everyday I pray for more patience and wisdom to go through with it each time we fight.

Those girls ruined our relationship. It was perfect until they came along. And it sucks that there are just too many stories to tell I’d rather not tell any at all. At least not tonight.

I kept on crying throughout our whole conversation. First you have to know that I am really sensitive, I get angry and I cry easily. It wouldn’t surprise people I know when they see me cry down any street. My eyes were endemic to tears. I was sick with the case of extreme poles of emotions.

In the middle of our call, it came to a point where he was slurring and eating his words, either fighting to stay awake or was just having a mere after effect of eating a few evil-baked brownies. It was possible. But I’d like to believe that whatever things he said, it was still his honest feelings.

I have been crying every night over the phone for a week straight now. It’s embarrassing and depressing. I just really pray and hope that this time around,  things will really start to look up. I want him to be as happy as before, even if it means me giving more. I love this guy a little too much, I guess. It’s crazy 🙂

Lord, teach me to love like you do.


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