Tag Archives: friends

Will It Always Be Like This?

Things have been really good the last few days. I’ve truly enjoyed spending a whole day with you, basking in anonymity and never worrying, except probably for the little bit at the end about making it back in time because the MRT was packed. And even then, crammed like sardines with lots of strangers, I felt strangely content. Have you heard of the phrase that says something like, “you know you’re truly close with someone if you can be comfortable with them even in silence”? I felt it that day. The lack of need for words, a little touch of the hand or a nudge to reassure one’s self that the other person is still there, asking a question with a look. That day wasn’t very productive but I truly liked the mood and the atmosphere between the two of us.

(This is not to say that I found our conversations and strolls with random stories meaningless and rowdy. It was just a sort of revelation that we can bond even without those.)

But our closeness is a double-edged sword, which is why you were able to tell me the other day that you realized that you were still in the process of moving on. That was okay, and I welcome the way we are open with one another. I also hoped and felt that maybe after the very-unproductive-yet-very-enjoyable day, maybe you’d have moved on a bit more. I do not want to erase your memories of her, because that is escapism. Moving on involves acceptance and still being able to remember past experiences with fondness. But when I saw a picture she posted that you liked, I couldn’t help but think back to how you’re still moving on, how much of a ‘beard’ I actually am, a distraction. And then I berated myself for having no trust in you. And now, I couldn’t help but wonder..
Will it always be like this? The constant battle in my mind whenever you do something remotely related to her. And I’m torn because one one hand, it may also mean that you now feel more comfortable with the idea of having something to do with her again, a sign of acceptance. She’s such a very dear person to me and I know that she’s also such an amazing person who’s hard to let go of. And now I’m not making much sense.. Maybe my dreams will make sense of my thoughts for me.

Itching for sleep,


When the Subconscious Speaks

It’s been a long time since I dreamt of something. Anything. Much less something as long or as vivid as the one I dreamt today.

I was at a high school reunion. Weirdly, it seemed as though the only ones involved in it are my batch and the batch before ours. We arrived separately; I was there much earlier. I distinctly remember seeing almost no one from my batch that I was close to, only those who have mocked me in the past and/or people close to her. I saw you when you arrived. We started crossing the field from different directions, but were apparently headed towards the same place. I was getting ready to greet you, to act nonchalantly, for what could be worse than giving a clue as to the true nature of our..association to this group of people?

And as the tendency with dreams, I was able to follow you without my dream self being there with you. (This may very well be a jumbled sequence of events.) Before we actually talked in the dream, I saw you socialize with your batch mates and you were still as easygoing and seemingly as popular with them as you made yourself out to be, through your stories. It reminded me how weird I thought it was that you hung out oftentimes with the popular people in your batch, yet I’ve never heard of or noticed you before she told me about you. By the way, she wasn’t there. Not of my close friends were. It’s like my subconscious is mimicking my real life situation, how my closest high school friends don’t study in the same campus as I do,.. Or maybe it’s just sparing me the feeling of criticized by the very same people whose opinions I highly value.

When we finally got to talk, we were standing in, I think, a corridor, leaning on the walls across from each other. I was able to sense the tension in the air, the caution we so carefully observed in the way we acted and conversed, trying hard to look as if we were talking easily but without sounding very familiar with each other. Our efforts seemed futile when a couple of my batch mates went by (luckily*sarcastic* those who got along so well with her but seemed to despise, or at least really dislike, me) and they were looking at us suspiciously, even as I said ‘hi’ with a cheery smile. Already, I saw the judgment in their eyes. But then I looked at you and you didn’t look like you noticed anything wrong. Until we resumed our conversation and you sounded resigned and..

I don’t remember the exact words or topics we talked about, but I distinctly remember one thing you told me, even though it’s not verbatim. You told me,
“Can’t you see? She won.”

My dream self felt a big twinge at that, but consistent with my current self, I didn’t show it. Fast forward to a scene where we’re sitting far apart and I toss you your ID. It may have been too hard but I tell you that I didn’t want my throw to fall short.

Fall short. That’s all I will ever do, all you will let me do, isn’t it? Even if you don’t mean it. I find it fitting that you told me yesterday: “Some time this morning I had a thought: “I can’t believe I’m still going through the process of moving on“”. I’m glad that we’re close enough for you to tell me these things. However, that plus what your dream self told my dream self.. It really drove home what I’ve realized so long ago but failed to accept as fact:

It’s hard to compete with a memory. Much more if that memory is of a person with whom you had no closure with, who will forever be a ‘what if’ in your mind. I know she’s fantastic and an amazing person; sometimes I can’t even fathom how we became close, as uninteresting as I am. But, as many people can attest, holding on to the memory of someone oftentimes makes you hold onto the idea of being with that someone as you remember them. Never mind that they may have changed drastically over the years. And all of these things combined, with her still remaining fabulous (and maybe growing even more fabulous with each second), you may as well have been right.

She won.
Thank you for the wake up call, my subconscious. I know you’re just looking out for me.

Hugging a pillow to my chest,

Friend, I Gotta Say.. You Drive Me Crazy

Of course it is pointless to blame you for things that you probably do not know that you are doing, but it would be more pointless to blame these..things.. on the universe, who I’m sure has better ways to pass her (a girl!) time than to make someone act like you do just to mess with me. And so, the blame lands on you.

I do not, and most probably will never, expect more. I’ve been with you and have known you enough to know that there could never be more between us, even if we do our best in trying to be together, because we’re just not engineered that way. But I figured, hey, we’ve been through so much, why don’t we give being friends a shot? And so it begins.

Eventually, I’ve come to accept (although I believe that the more appropriate term would be ‘feel resigned’) that I can never fully understand the inner workings of your mind. The universe probably, can be said to be playing some reverse psychology game on me that it shoves you in my face when I’m trying to get a break from you, yet gives you an out when I want you around. But other than that..let’s just say, I’m a girl, and I have my dramatic moments; but you’re a different kind of dramatic altogether. You’re fickle, whose thoughts and feelings change as erratically as the waves on a heart monitor. I try to keep up, but with this, you had me beat. Sometimes I succeed, thinking that you’re predictable after all—only to be faced with an enigma soon after.

Now, as a friend, I know I should be accepting of you; after all, there is nothing wrong with this and I’m glad that you feel comfortable enough to act unguarded with me. But just like with my other friends, my tendency will be to comfort you in times of panic/despair and to laugh when needed, called for, or when the joke’s on you. Given all this, I just wish I didn’t feel so helpless whenever your mood takes a sudden nosedive or a spike and, as usual, you don’t feel the urge or necessity to tell the context of a reaction. I feel like I’m crawling in the dark whenever I think of responding to a hastily texted random exclamation, and upon chancing on an object and throwing it away, I immediately doubt if I did the right thing. I know that I’m far from a perfect friend and that with our different principles and conflicting views, I may give the ‘wrong reactions’ even when I know the whole story, but I sure as hell appreciate knowing the whole thing.

But I guess the hard thing about friendships is that you know you’ve got to be more accepting of the person, unless the thing to accept is fundamentally wrong and potentially damaging. I guess my sentiments are, well,.. I just wish I don’t become as affected or concerned about what goes on through your head whenever something happens that I don’t understand and you won’t bother to explain. I hope I’ll become used to this feeling of inadequacy when it comes to mental/emotional things concerning you. And mostly, I just hope that I’d grow out of caring this much about anything you do. No offense.

No, I don’t love you. Not yet, and most probably never will, in that way.
But there’s no denying that, sometimes, you drive me crazy.
Even without trying.

From among the stars,

School Tomorrow — Are You Ready?

Gee. With classes like that, who wouldn’t be hyped to go to school?
(Photo from harrypotterfandom.net/tag/elective-classes/)

It’s school tomorrow, and I have mixed feelings about it. I don’t know if I’ve blogged about this before, but I think this is something that a lot of other people also feel whenever the resumption of classes looms over us.

I don’t know if I should feel glad at the prospect of being reunited with my blockmate-friends, whom I’ve barely talked to the whole Christmas break. Taking a breather from socializing was nice, but there’s nothing like being with your currently-closest friends to make you drag yourself out of bed, even if it means getting up at the crack of dawn everyday.

On the other hand, I feel apprehensive about facing everything school represents: grades, teachers, exams, papers, you name it. I still have a whole lot of things to do (all for this week):

  • Write an essay about a local film critiquing its different meanings.
  • Watch 2 modules’ worth of short video clips (around 20+ clips) for a double-quiz.
  • Research and compile our paper (which is apparently a full-blown lab report) for a lab class.
  • Download, install, and familiarize myself with VMD (Visual Molecular Dynamics) and NAMD (*something*).

Despite the way I ended the last year (with a bang, just like my last post; I got a whopping 80++% on my Immunology exam! And this is my most decent grade yet in any subject taught by that specific teacher), I can’t help but feel sometimes that I might have bitten off more than I could chew by taking this course. I would have been tempted to wish for more time if it were Christmas; but as a Facebook friend said, there’s no point in asking for more time if you don’t have the initiative or motivation to spend that time wisely.

I guess the logical solution would be to end writing this post and get on with my paper or other requirements, right? 😉

Maybe I should just keep in mind that I’m lucky to be the recipient of an excellent education, and that I have awesome people who are also suffering having the time of their lives alongside me, by taking this course. Since I’ve finished re-reading HP #3 already (and well into the 4th book! I think I’d watch the movies after all these as well..), I can’t help but envy Harry’s enthusiasm to go back to school, even if it’s mostly propelled by the desire to get away from the Dursley’s; as well as Hermione’s willingness to learn and the way she just.. devours textbooks! I wish that girl would give me a piece of that amazing brain of hers.

“If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop him,” growled Hagrid. “Stop Lily an’ James Potter’s son goin’ ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name’s been down ever since he was born. He’s off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won’t know himself..”
–excerpt from Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone