50 First Dates – 2017 Edition

Okay, maybe it wasn’t 50, more of something between 20 to 30… I’ve lost count.

It was a big leap for me when I decided to go out and date again in 2017. And when I decided, I really went all out. The dating scene here in Oz was completely new to me and I haven’t really actively put myself out there in the past years. There was so much for me to learn and discover.

I don’t include speed dates in the count. Five minute dates do not really count. Nor does chatting. I’m talking about the good old “lets meet up for coffee or dinner and get to know each other” dates.

Maybe you’re asking where I find all these guys? Online. But not Tinder though. I have two online dating accounts, and I’ve found them as a good way to start.

Like someone. Say hello. Do a little small talk. If they seem decent, agree to meet up for coffee or brunch or something. Some plans push through, but some don’t. Some first dates turn into second dates, or maybe more.

The first guy I met for the year turned out to be one of the biggest learning experience for me. He was an amazing man, and at the start he also seemed keen. I thought we were a good match. Apparently he didn’t think so. Eventually things had to end and left me reeling from the rejection. I felt horrible. I absolutely dreaded rejection. I mourned a little bit (or maybe a lot). Then moved on.

I think the moving on is the most important part. I value the realisation that rejections will not kill you. So, every time something does not work out, I just get back out there and meet new people again.

Five. That’s the count of who I spent a little bit more time on. And a few more that went past the first date. Sometimes I wonder why I wasted my time on some of them.

Three. I can confidently say that three of them really made a big difference in my life. I wouldn’t trade the experience with them for anything, even if each of them left a little bit (or a lot) of heartache in the end.

Many times I’ve told myself, “this will be the last one for the year”, but I always eat my words. I wanted to stop way back in August and take a break from dating for the rest of the year and just let my heart rest, but I always ended up meeting someone new.

I am so thankful to good friends who have put up with me through the countless calls and messages, especially during times I was nursing a broken heart. I absolutely owe you a lot for calming me down during my anxious calls and crying fits. The words of advice are very valuable too. I really hope you don’t get tired of me.

The year 2017 is over. It’s year 2018 now. I’m shifting priorities this year. I’m still leaving myself open to possibilities, to meeting new people with the hope that I’ll eventually find the one I’m looking for (and who is looking for me). Perhaps I just don’t want to give it as much effort as I did in 2017. I’ll just let things happen.

I still wish though that maybe I’ll meet someone in real life, someone who does not come from an online app. Maybe this year?

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A letter to my future husband (I haven’t found you yet…)

Dear future husband,

Maybe you’re wondering where in the world I am right now. Cos I am also thinking, where are you? I still don’t know where I will find you, or who you are from the billions of people in this world.

I’m in Sydney now, been here two years. And I’m still looking for you, hoping that maybe you are somewhere near or around. Maybe I’ve already passed you on the street or have been on the same train. Have I met you yet? Or will I be meeting you soon? I have no idea.

This year has been a challenging year so far, searching for you. I have mistakenly thought that the first guy I met this year was you. I was ready to give it my all, but alas it still was not you. I was sad and disappointed, and even a bit depressed when it did not work out. But I still kept on searching and kept on looking. I am still searching and looking. Rejection after rejection I soldier on. It’s absolutely tiring and somewhat heart-wrenching, cos I do give a little bit of myself everytime I try. I am almost ready to give up, but then I remember you. Against all odds, I have to find you.

Know that every time I meet someone new, every time I get to know someone, I can only hope that inch by inch it would bring me closer to you.

Looking forward to a beautiful life with you in the future.

List 33

I just had to do one for my annual birthday post, albeit belated.

33 things that have happened to me in the last 12 months (in no particular order)…

  1. Toured my grandmother around Sydney.
  2. Got an Apple Watch.
  3. Went back to visit the Philippines 3 times.
  4. Attended two weddings in two countries in the same weekend. In the same dress, shoes, and makeup.
  5. Had half of my thyroid removed.
  6. Discovered Tokyo.
  7. Watched Adele in concert.
  8. Watched Coldplay in concert.
  9. Watched Lea Salonga live at the Sydney Opera House.
  10. Started an online business.
  11. Traveled to a far-away place in Australia (Mount Gambier).
  12. Drove around Sydney (up to the western suburbs and hunter valley).
  13. Explored new places around NSW.
  14. Developed great friendships and found my social circle in Sydney.
  15. Realised that my good friends in other parts of the world are there for me anytime I need them.
  16. Met up with old friends visiting Sydney.
  17. Met up with friends and former colleagues while on vacation in the Philippines.
  18. Wine tasting, wine tasting, and more wine tasting…
  19. Learned the basics of contouring.
  20. Made pizza from scratch.
  21. Discovered new restaurants, cafes, and bars in Sydney.
  22. Went to dance classes.
  23. Gained weight.
  24. Lost weight.
  25. Bought a telescope.
  26. Donated blood.
  27. Got my work contract extended N-times.
  28. Dated more than ten guys (separately, of course).
  29. Dated guys of different nationalities (separately too).
  30. Dated someone for more than a month.
  31. Fell in love.
  32. Had my heart broken.
  33. Moved on.

Moving On

Nag move-on na ko. Seryoso. Approximately 5.33 km. In my two-inch heeled boots. In one hour and fifteen minutes. Di ko man napansin na tumakbo ang oras.

Seryoso, nilakad ko. Mahigit limang kilometro, mula opisina hanggang bahay. Bakit nga ba? Di ko rin talaga maipaliwanag. May tren naman, wala pang labin-limang minuto kung sasakay ako. Pero gusto kong maglakad. Ng malayo. Ng mag-isa.

Hindi naman masyadong malayo. Di naman ako napagod. Di rin ako pinawisan. Para lang naman mahigit dalawang ikot sa Acad Oval ng UP Diliman. Pero ansarap ng pakiramdam, yung alam mo na malaya kang gumalaw mag-isa, pumunta kung saan mo gustong pumunta.

Nung nagsimula akong maglakad, siya pa ang iniisip ko. Alam kong malapit sa kanila yung dadaanan ko. Alam ko din naman na hindi ko siya makikita. Ayoko siyang makita. Ayoko na siyang makita kahit kailan.

May iba din akong gustong daanan. Isang lugar na nagpapaalala sa akin ng masaya at simpleng buhay noong nasa kolehiyo pa. Tinawag ko na ngang “mini sunken garden”. Sarap sana tumigil at tumambay dito, kaso gusto ko na rin makauwi.

Habang naglalakad ako, may iba pa akong nakita. Basura lang sa sahig, pero parang may importanteng gustong sabihin sa akin…

Pagkatapos ng mahigit isang oras na paglalakad, nagutom na rin ako. Naisip ko rin kung anong gusto kong kainin kaya bumili ako bago umabot sa bahay.

Nag move-on na ko. Hindi man kapani-paniwala, pakiramdam ko malayo din ang na move-on ng puso ko pagkatapos kong maglakad ng mahigit limang kilometro. Pagdating ko sa bahay, may iba na akong iniisip. 🙂

 


Nakikinig nga pala ako sa Spotify habang naglalakad. Ansaya pakinggan ng playlist na ito, lalo na kung gusto mo lang mag-emote. :p

The art of poetry and forgotten feelings

It sometimes surprises me when I look back at the poetry I’ve written many years ago, and even those I just wrote a few months ago. I have this tendency to write poetry well when I am overcome with emotions, usually of the romantic kind, and most often due to unquenched longing, heartache, and rejection. Break my heart and I will find fuel to string words into poetry.

What surprises me the most is that many years after, the poetry still sound beautiful to me but the emotions that drove me to write them have disappeared completely. Sometimes the titles or the way they were written still remind me of who they are written for and why, but I have completely forgotten the feelings. At times I even completely forget who they were for. The bliss of the forgetful.

I am very optimistic that somehow I will soon forget about him. It has happened before, and I am capable of it I’m sure. He’s not even really worth the time and attention. And truly, he wasn’t worth the poetry.

P.S. The poem in the last post was because of him (whoever he is)

How to be myself

I have always known that somehow I transform into an entirely different person when I feel very strongly for someone (note that I am not using the four-letter word here on purpose). I become someone else, someone I don’t know and I don’t like too much, and for the longest time it has been near-impossible to control it. But I have decided that enough is enough. I want to take back my own sense of self, regardless, or perhaps most importantly when I have to deal with feelings for someone special. I want to be myself again, the best version of me.

How to be myself? Can I be the best person to answer that? My close friends could also very well help me with that. Some of them have seen me at my best and worst, and I value their thoughts very much. They have been treasures these past few days, regardless of time or distance. How can I survive without them?

I have to get my life back on track. My life has been interrupted for a while, so I need to get my focus back on the important things. I have to remind myself of the high-energy, free-spirited me. Strong and feisty. I have the ability to conquer worlds.

Day in and day out I need to actively remind myself of who I truly am. Because I know that at the end of the day, it is this self that will draw true love into my life.

Time to welcome back the real Abii.

Again

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was right before the very first date ever in my life. Valentines dance in high school and I was only 13 (if I remember correctly). I was with my bestfriend (who went to a different school but I invited over) and we were just enjoying the day of the school fair. But as the evening approached and the inevitability of my date dawned, my insides just went topsy-turvy.

I remember it distinctly. That giddy feeling bordering on nauseous. I tried to eat a slice of pizza and finish a bottle of orange soda (Royal Tru Orange!). For some reason, I couldn’t hold it down and had to throw up everything. Everything. I blamed it on the orange soda and sort of stopped drinking that from then on.

It may have been the first time I ever fell in love. In retrospect, there’s strong supporting evidence to back that up.

Many years after, he could still remember what I wore that day. Many years after, I remember that single pink rose he gave me, the one that I took home and stuck on the ground and lived for a few years more. I still remember the songs that we slow danced to, and how much taller he was that made it a challenge to put my hands on his shoulders and around his neck.

Unfortunately, my first love never really became “us”, although the ghost of our feelings for each other haunted us beyond a decade. I guess it just wasn’t really meant to be.

I just remembered this from long ago, because I was reminded of that giddy, nauseous feeling. Here it comes again.