Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Officially engaged!

He asked, and I said Yes! :)

There’s always that one special moment when a man really sweeps you off your feet. It would be your most beautiful, most unforgettable. It happened one beautiful Sunday and I am still on cloud nine. 

I never would have thought that after all that we have been through and having come quite this far, we’d find ourselves to a place worth going further to – to a love that has not only been nurtured on halcyon days, but has worked through tough times. This is where we truly are.  

How could I not forget this? How could you not make me cry? How couldn’t you have taken me by the most beautiful surprise more when you proposed to me in front of the altar at the Basilica de Sto. Nino, took a beautiful ring out of the box, slipped it into my finger, and then said these words “I love you. With God as my witness, will you marry me?” 

How could you not touch my soul?

It was surreal. Beautiful. Perfect. We talked about settling down, yes, but he waited for the right time and he picked the best place to propose. The love that we have for each other wouldn’t be what and where it is now without God in it. Every day I thank God for giving him to me. 

You. My lover, my bestfriend. You, who, have been my pillar of strength, my joy, and my pain even. You, who, continue to fight for me even when I am facing my own demons; even when you have your own battles to deal with. We find ourselves knowing there is more to go, and I do not expect the road we are taking is easy. There was never a doubt in my mind what might lurk for us.  The thorns always come with the rose and that’s what makes it beautiful.

After all that we’ve been through, I know I have found myself to where I truly belong – with you. 

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Epiphany


img source: http://goo.gl/9vKFE

1. Ladies, if you suspect or catch your partner cheating on you, never confront the other woman.  Yes, I've been cheated on twice in my past relationships and yes, it hurt big time. And if you ask me if I’ve been in that spot when the other woman was willing to play second fiddle to me, believe me, you have no idea. 

How I had reacted when I found out I‘d been cheated on was a far cry from what is commonly depicted in movies and teledramas where :  (1) two ladies meet face to face, exchange civil pleasantries, talk about the same man and then emotions spiral out of control during the course of the meeting.  Or there’s the more entertaining scene where (2) the lady meets the other woman face to face, engage in cheap talk, slap each other's faces and a cat fight ensues for more drama.

You get angry of course. You get angrier at your man and the other woman even. Sure you may find her to be at fault too; after all, it takes two tango. But no, you don’t confront HER. Firstly, the relationship is between you and your man. Not you and her. You don’t talk to her and ask about the score between them. You will never find the real answers to your questions. You put your trust in your man and he broke that, so why pin your anger on her?

Confront the other woman? And what, waste my time?

Besides, if your man really loved you, he wouldn’t have bitten the bait. If he really loved you, he would be strong enough not to give in to the seemingly bewitching but dangerous sorcery of an affair outside of your relationship. If he really loved you, he would have long called off and cut ties with her. But he didn’t, did he? Think about it.

Unless you’re willing to fight for him all the way, you can  drop your trust issues, take him back and forget about it or stand by him and remain suspicious. Whatever makes you happy. In my case, I cried a river, dumped the jerk, licked my wounds and got back on track. I've never been happier now.


img source: http://goo.gl/1MGul

2. You can be happy with Mr. Right, and still get attracted to someone else. Reality check, even if you find the right person, there will always be someone who is better than him/her – more good looking, more intelligent, funnier, more sensible. There is nothing wrong if you find yourself getting attracted to someone else. It is instinctive and you can’t always control that. What you can do about it, though, is how you deal with it. The ball is totally in your court, you are not forced to act on it anyway. 

img source: http://goo.gl/awVCQ

3. A person's confidence is based on experience. So don't be afraid to experiment. While it pays to try to do good and be good, it makes sense to be bad sometimes. That's why you need those juvenile, sl***y, fuzzy moments to find out what you like, experiment and get it out of your system. In the words of Mark Twain, "Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." He couldn't have hit the nail more right on the head. Let loose a little but never forget to pray.

Monday, April 2, 2012

When I was little...

with my sister 

1. I'd borrow my mama's chalk and eraser, write shilly-shallies on walls and play little teacher with my sister as the student. Then we would switch roles. 


2. I'd treat my wounds by myself. I didn't like mama telling me the "I told you" tirade because I loved playing out and about a lot. 

3. I'd sit up straight on a table holding a newspaper and read out loud like I was a news anchor.

4. I'd direct a play using small, empty bottles as characters. I did the arrangements, script, voice-overs, the works. It was fun and a lot better than having a dollhouse! 

5. I'd make my own chocolate recipes - pudding, cookie fudge, cake - using soil. :)

6. I'd stop whatever I was doing whenever mama came home from work. She always brought something I really liked. 

7. I'd make coffee for my papa & serve it to him whenever he got home from work. I still remember putting too much sugar in it, but he'd drink it anyway. :)

8. Powdered milk was my favorite snack. Mama would keep the milk jar out of my reach and close the lid so tight because she knew why it was easily consumed. :)

9. I'd ask a lot of questions, it tested my mama's patience and intelligence. Haha

10. I loved to read: children's stories, textbooks, Ibon facts and figures, mama's Economics books, novels that had racy covers, descriptions on product labels, even my papa's electronics references (haha).  I carry on this love for reading until now. 

Oh my happy childhood. 

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Jealous, I am


I am a self-professed drama queen, guilty of throwing tantrums at my boyfriend when it comes to jealousy. He’d just laugh about it, a quality that is so endearing of him. And when he’s past the bemusement of it, I’m just glad he has extra patience to deal with me whenever I throw yet another fit.

I surmise that the size of my green-eyed monster may just be too big. It makes me wonder a number of things: if there ever lived a person who’s never jealous; if my jealousy is beyond normal; and when too much jealousy is enough.

Amazingly, there are just some who are good at hiding their emotions, so much so that they may not, at all, appear jealous of other people. With all confidence, I know that my boyfriend still gets jealous whenever some guys come around, despite his calm and collected stance. But yes, he sure knows how to handle his jealousy well. He is the type who doesn’t seem to worry about other guys because there is nothing he can do about it anyway. He can only do so much to change the guy’s behavior, let alone mine.

I guess I should just hoist my white flag up – he has always shown maturity in all his ways, allowing him to understand that even if he may not like it, get pissed at the other guys or prolly get hurt if I bite the bait, he can never change my actions by getting jealous. He has a hold on my demon, a terrible force that can break anything it gets its way on. Perhaps, I could learn from his ways and just chill.

But just when is too much jealousy enough? A little jealousy sure won’t hurt, but I admit that I couldn’t have too much of it. I get jealous to the point that I turn into a psycho, bursting into tears thinking he might have bumped into this girl on one of his ‘long days’. I become a stalker too, forcing him to give me his password to his Facebook account, in a bid to never be caught off-guard. As if it’s not enough, I even pick fights over imaginary people and circumstances that are mere figments of my imagination.

To many people, (including you perhaps), you’d think of me to be overboard. I have been warned that if I do not mellow down, he might dump me. I honestly don’t care. Anything in between can happen in a relationship. And when it comes to jealousy, it’s not the extent of jealousy that matters but how both partners deal with it.

My boyfriend has been putting up with my shitty behavior and I’m thankful that he's still there, hanging on for dear life (lol). If only it were easier for me to understand that there really is nothing for me to worry about. So what if his face lightens up whenever I mention about two of his major crushes? What is it to me if his ex’s number registers on his “Missed Calls” list? What do I care if he compliments other chicks for being bountiful there?

He is with me. He chooses to be with me. As long as we both feel that way about each other, I guess that’s more than enough to banish whatever insecurity there is.

Easier said than done for now, really. I’ll learn to get past this eventually, though.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Remembering Mama


Make that twelve years ago when it would be the last time I'd see her. It would be the last time we'd talk, the last that I'd see her smile.

'Be good", that was what she told me, her voice frail, her breathing ragged. I'd listen to every word she said, although she no longer said much anymore.

She had some fight going in her. I saw it in the way she looked at me. She was trying to fight back. But somehow she had lost the fight. She succumbed to it.

That was twelve years ago when I lost my hero to breast cancer. That person was my mother.

There is never a day that I don't miss her. And each time I look at myself, the pain of missing her hurts even more because I've grown up to be a spitting image of her.

There is never a day that I don't long for her, wishing she was still here to celebrate with me in my happy, glorious days, even more so to back me up when I'm down in the rut. After all, she was the person I'd first run to whenever I had something great to share or whenever I needed help.

I miss saying the word 'Mama' and having someone to call that, because there is no one else that could ever take her place; no one who loved me more than she did. I still long to hear her infectious laughter, and the things she used to tell me are still fresh in my mind. But she was gone too soon.

She didn't get to put a medal around my neck with Papa when I got an award at my highschool graduation.

She didn't get to have me as a student in Economics in college, something which she really looked forward to.

She wasn't able to beam with so much pride when everyone else congratulated me for 'causing trouble' in school.

She didn't get to cheer me on when I got my first job and celebrate the sweet reapings of the first pay with me.

She never got to meet the guy whom she prayed would be right for me.

All that's left with me are joyful, lasting memories of her - the blessing of having her as my mother even though her physical presence may be shortlived. She may be smiling and looking on with pride for the good deeds I've done, or perhaps frowning upon the boo-boos I may have gotten myself into, because deep in my heart and mind, I know she is and will always be with me.

I love you, Ma.