Numbers Game

Finding love is sometimes a numbers game, especially if you’re still playing quite late in the game. When you’re younger, it’s still a game of chance, of luck. Sometimes you get lucky and find your one true love in high school or university and you eventually end up together and live happily ever after. However if you’ve lost your chance when you were still in school, dating and finding a good match when you’re already out in the real world is a tough one.

I’ve honestly been searching for love for more than a decade. My last boyfriend was almost 10 years ago, and I met him at work. We didn’t really last long. But honestly, I’ve met a lot of guys at work. I’ve also met a lot of guys outside of work. I’ve been set up on many blind dates, gone to a number of speed dates, and even back-dated (i.e. dated people from my past). It’s tiring. And I was still unlucky at finding someone. It’s always either the attraction is one-way (i.e. I like him, he doesn’t like me back, or he likes me and I don’t like him back), or the attraction is mutual, but there’s something completely and absolutely complicated about it (and oh, I don’t even want to talk about it).

When I moved to Oz, the search continued. Somehow it was both harder and easier for different reasons. It was more difficult because I had a limited existing social circle, I came unfamiliar with the dating rituals and culture, and it was challenging for me to spark physical attraction because I can’t effing compete with those sexy blonde girls (not sure if this is true, but this is how it feels). I found it a bit more easy for other reasons because of so many ways to meet more people, such as numerous social events, speed dating events, dating apps, and online dating websites.

But alas, the search continues.

I do think that somehow it’s a numbers game. The more people I meet, the better the chances that I’ll find someone. As they say, the more entries you send, the more chances of winning. Of course, I also take quality into consideration. Meet more quality guys. That’s the strategy.

Advertisements

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.

Old Shorts – “Too Late” (A Short Story)

It was raining quite heavily. A grey Civic drove slowly into the parking area of the airport. A young man came out. He had strong features, fair skin, and round eyes. He ran under his blue jacket through the pouring rain, towards the arrival area. At once he caught glimpse of his friend, sitting next to a pile of baggage.

“Hoy Antonio! It’s time you got here. I’ve been waiting for you for hours!” his friend jerked. His features, weaker than his friend’s, glimmered in the pale lights. He had tan skin, chinky eyes, and pale lips. “Is that the way you are going to greet me after five years we haven’t seen each other? I think the last time I saw you was at my wedding, wasn’t it?” Antonio replied, jokingly.

Yes it was, the other man thought. He remembered it bitterly, but tried not to show it. He tried to remember Andrea’s face. She seemed so happy. Very happy. And he’s giving her away to his very best friend Antonio. He tried to ask her to come back to him, but she refused.

“I’m really sorry I’m late. I got stuck in heavy traffic. So, how was your trip?” Antonio asked.

“It’s okay, but I’m really so tired. I think I’m going to be sick.” he answered.

“Maybe it’s just the weather.” Antonio said.

The rain calmed. They walked towards the car and shoved two big traveling bags and a medium sized box. They both hopped into the car, and started a long drive home. When the car got out of the airport, it began to rain heavily again. The traffic was jammed and the road was flowing with water. It will take some time for them to get home. “Are you alright, Jonathan?” Antonio asked.

“Yep, just resting.” he answered.

Antonio popped a tape into the car stereo, and the air was filled with song.

my lullaby
hung out to dry
what’s up with that
it’s over

Jonathan closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He remembered the song. It was one of the songs Andrea used to sing. He remembered Andrea. He met her back in high school. They were sophomores then. A friend introduced him to her. She was not that attractive. She’s the type that you’ll only appreciate if you look at her more closely. It also goes for her character. You’ll never appreciate her unless you know her really well. As for him, he knew her very well. He became a friend to her. He also appreciated her beauty.

The road became less congested, but the rain continued pouring. Antonio drove his car into a gasoline station, and got fueled up. Jonathan went down to find something to eat at the snack station. After fueling, Antonio parked the car in front of the snack station and got out.

Jonathan got out with a sandwich in both hands. After getting into the car, he handed Antonio the one on his left. Antonio began eating it clumsily, spilling some filling every now and then.

This is my best friend, Jonathan thought, biting into his own sandwich. They have been best friends since their first year in high school. They’re already twenty-seven, but almost nothing has changed. He could not imagine how different they were, yet how they agreed and got along with each other. He also could not imagine how Andrea got to like him. Perhaps everything Andrea couldn’t find in him, she found in his best friend. The way Antonio was so carefree about everything, while he always worried about how things will work out.

my mouth is dry
forgot how to cry
what’s up with that
you’re hurting me

The song continued playing. It lurked into Jonathan’s ears once again. He remembered the day they parted. They didn’t break up because of a terrible fight. They broke up because they realized they wouldn’t work anymore. It was before graduation. Andrea cried, but he didn’t. He was still so in love with her, and was so numb at that time to feel the pain. They broke up as friends. This was the last song that she sang to him.

An hour or so passed, without a word between the two friends. They finally got to Antonio’s house. Nobody was there. The house was so hollow, and their footsteps echoed on the walls of the spacious living room.

Antonio unloaded Jonathan’s bags into the guest room, beside the wide staircase.

“Andy! Andy! Where are you?” Jonathan searched, climbing a few steps of the stairs. Antonio glanced at Jonathan with an uncertain look.

“I really don’t know how to tell you this but,” he stuttered.

“What? Don’t tell me she’s out of town. Didn’t she even wait for me?” Jonathan asked. Long silence.

“No, Jon. She didn’t wait for you… She’s dead.” Antonio sobbed.

“Tony, you’re joking! Andrea can’t be dead! She can’t be!” Jonathan screamed. He pushed Antonio unto a wall. “You never loved her! You stole her from me! Show her to me! Where is she? Stop hiding her!” Jonathan shrieked.

“She’s dead Jonathan, and I can do no more. I loved her, if that’s what you want to know. I loved her. She’s no more now. Not yours. Not mine. Go get dressed and we’ll go to her wake together.” Antonio said.

Jonathan released his hold of his friend, and scampered to his room. Both of them dressed up and got back into the car.

why, bleeding is breathing
you’re hiding underneath the smoke in the room
try, bleeding is believing
I used to

The stereo snickered. Now he understood.

They arrived at the wake. There were many people there, with some familiar faces. Jonathan went directly to the casket. He looked into her face. She still is beautiful, even though her face was now pale and lifeless. He missed her so much. He broke down and cried. It was the first time ever he cried because of her, after the time they broke up. It has been a long time. Now it’s too late.

Antonio patted Jonathan’s back.

Bridget Jones and my raging hormones

bjdThe trailer for ‘Bridget Jones’ Baby’, the newest Bridget Jones movie was very much appealing to me and I’m meaning to watch it soon, but I honestly haven’t seen any of the previous movies yet. That was until two nights ago, when I chanced upon their first movie, ‘Bridget Jones’s Diary’ showing on TV. Watching it for the first time, I found it to be much of a delight.

I don’t know really. Is it because she’s single and on a challenging search for that elusive love, and it is something I can pretty much relate to? In the movie though, in the craziest way, in a wonderful chance, she found a wonderful gorgeous man who was willing to take a chance on her. Mr. Darcy.

Wait, he sounds familiar. Oh yes, Pride and Prejudice. A little googling told me that Bridget Jones book and movie are actually loosely based on Pride and Prejudice, especially on the BBC series starring Colin Firth. Oh yes, Mr. Darcy. I was also in love with the Mr. Darcy from the 2005 movie version of P&P.

Okay, back to Bridget. And her Mr. Darcy.

Oh, I don’t really know if it was such a good idea to watch the movie while I am hormonal, highly emotional, and all that shiz. Somehow it has uncovered and unearthed all that subconscious longing and that unfulfilled desire for the love of my life, who somehow hasn’t shown himself yet after all these years.

I’ve enjoyed watching Colin Firth, Mr. Darcy. Where do I find myself a real life man like that? So I was pining for my own Mr. Darcy during and after the movie. Then went to bed (alone).

Lo and behold, my dreams may have revealed to me my hidden desires. Wonderful vivid dream about a guy I was in love with from long ago. It was the sweetest dream I’ve ever had for the longest time. I wish it never ended.

Honestly, I don’t really think I want him back, whoever that specific person was in my dream. But how I long for that feeling again. Why has it always been so elusive?

I had to watch the second movie too, ‘Bridget Jones – Edge of Reason’, since it won’t be long until the third movie is available in the cinemas for me to watch. I watched it tonight, and again just fell for Mr. Darcy even harder. Perhaps I did not relate with Bridget in the second movie as much as the first, since I didn’t agree with her reasons for questioning her relationship with Darcy. But Darcy has just been such a delight.

Within the next hour I shall go to sleep, but now I am already wondering what dreams will come this time around.

What If…

Lately I’ve been wondering, what if I was never meant to find the love of my life in this lifetime? What if he does not exist, and I continue to drag my feet all my days still waiting for him to magically appear out of nowhere? 

What if my soulmate has passed on, murdered or died heroically, or died too young because of a disease, before I even got the chance to meet him? Perhaps we’ll see each other again in the next lifetime, but I am left to toil for the rest of this life alone and lonely. Is it time to start buying cats? But I hate cats. I should just get myself dogs, rabbits, and capybaras…

But seriously, it is a possibility. Same way that finding the love of my life is simply a possibility and is not certain. That’s why I enjoy imagining how my my funeral will be more than imagining how I want my wedding to be. At least I’m sure my death is certain, but love? I don’t really know. 

I should start working on my Plan B, since Plan A doesn’t seem to work at all. What can I do with this beautiful life if I end up living it all alone? I want to be completely rational and at peace with my Plan B. I don’t want to feel horrible and alone and defeated even if I never find the love of my life in this lifetime. 

Torpe is an excuse

Very lightly translated, “torpe” is a Filipino word that usually refers to a guy who is too shy to make the move to pursue a girl that he likes. Interestingly, the translation of the same word from Spanish means clumsy, slow or awkward (which perfectly describes the Filipino translation, actually).

I have lately realised that calling a guy torpe is just an excuse, especially for those beyond or way beyond their teenage years. If you think a guy is torpe, it probably means one of three things:

He’s undecided. Maybe he’s attracted to you, but he’s completely undecided about it. He may be exerting a little effort trying to test the waters. Maybe you’re one of his options. He may be flirting for days, weeks, months, years… or it can go on forever (seriously, I’m not kidding), but it does not give you the assurance that he will eventually pursue.

He has ego issues. He’s afraid of making a fool out of himself. He probably loves himself more than anything else. He does not want to put himself in a position where he can be rejected.

He’s just not that into you. He probably just likes you, but he doesn’t like you “like” you. Maybe he’s just one of the guys who’s sweet and nice to everyone. Or he’s one big flirt. There is a chance that this is just the “friendzone”. Remember: flirting = attention without the intention.

Bottom line, if a guy likes you enough, he’ll take the chance. A bunch of flowers, a box of chocolates, an invitation to go out for coffee or dinner, or even the simple effort of keeping in touch. Trust me, it’s worth sticking out for men who make an effort to let you know that you matter.

Ma-basted man, at least they tried, diba?

A letter to my future husband (letter no. 4)

Dear future love,

I made yummy crêpe for breakfast this morning, and how I wish you were here to taste them. I do not want to brag, but they were great. I’m hoping you’ll be able to try them out next time. Would be sweet if I could share this Saturday morning brekkie by the balcony with you. Maybe sometime soon. 

Somehow I feel that I am not too far away from you now. I’ve traveled thousands of kilometers to get here, and know that each and every step I take I am hoping to take me closer and closer to you. I’ve come a long way to find you. I have waited for a long time. I’m here now. I exist. Come get me.

Sometimes I can’t help but think back to all the shit I had to go through in the past. It’s been a crazy journey, and I’ve risked my heart so many times. I do hope you don’t mind receiving my heart a little bit scarred and bruised. But once you find it, it’s all yours. Then, maybe all the shit in the past will make sense, or maybe they wouldn’t even matter anymore. 

I pray for you each and every day, that God keep you safe and happy and give you the things you hope for. I pray that you’ll eventually realise once you’ve found me, all in God’s perfect time. I pray for patience as I continue to wait, to search, to hope. And I pray that He mold me into the person that you’ve always prayed for. 

I love you yesterday, today, and tomorrow. I’ll see you soon.