Sex and the City

Three days ago, I rewatched Sex and the City. The movie, not the series. I only rediscovered that the movie was made to like cap off the series that started in 1998.

And so two days ago, I started watching the series from the very beginning. I've already finished Gilmore Girls, all 8 seasons. Boy, was that a ride! That took me weeks to finish, and so maybe 6 seasons of slightly shorter, more exciting episodes of Sex and the City might just take a few weeks, if not days.

Women in their 30s, in the year I was born. So this is what it was like for them. I find myself going back to my blog as I imagine myself to be Carrie Bradshaw, writing her learnings of women in their 30s in the year I was born.

I think right now I just feel like writing, there's something about it that's so glamorous and vulnerable and right. I never thought of myself as a writer. I've had my moments in college where I write A papers and that really made me feel good about myself considering my sister was the editor-in-chief of our high school paper and I was this little sister beside her who focused more on math than words.

I got into college and enjoyed writing papers than answering exams. Who loves exams??? Okay, not gonna lie, I do enjoy exams when I get to answer them correctly. But the anxiety-inducing post-exam discussions along the halls of the exam room with your classmates who probably knew how to solve the A question (how we call the very difficult question at the end of a math exam that prevents A students from getting an A) is not something I look forward to as I receive the fresh exam paper, waiting to be answered incorrectly. Especially when their answers are a far cry from yours, you just want to scream and run and get back to watching the shows you watched guiltily while you were procrastinating for the same exam, only then you do not feel guilty anymore (which really takes away the fun).

Writing papers, essays, and all other loads of crap was actually my expertise in college, but I never tried to write for the school paper. My words weren't smart enough. Sometimes I try to sound smart, but I just end up using my writing style (parallelism) too much. I didn't even know I use it a lot, but my mom hired her colleague to teach me essay-writing before college entrance exams and she did tell me that I use parallelism to my advantage. Now I don't know if it's advantageous anymore if I use it too often, too much.

Maybe I can simply write my words here where no one can listen to me and only I can pretend to be Carrie whose words are definitely exciting and can be heard around the big city. Maybe at a time like this (a pandemic where I'm jobless and trying not to be the bum that I look like right now), I can simply use these writing urges to my advantage. Aside from writing songs, I wrote one of my last papers in college with a slightly odd but way too common a motivation.

Our city's mayor is young, fresh, smart, fair, and way too charming to be single. I always act like he's my big time crush, but a part of me is not too attracted just because of my background and his. You see, I've been through a lot with males-in-a-relationship problems. And given that he hasn't really had a relationship, it might be too difficult. Plus he's really busy with his work, and I'm truly hoping by the time he notices me (will he ever?), that I'm busy, too. But this city is a piece of work, so I don't think a relationship between him and me will not work out. Who am I to say these things, it's close to impossible to happen.

Regardless, I did not come here to talk about that. I could never get to his level, not even catch his attention. And that is why, as I was writing my paper for my last philosophy class did I realize that some dreams (or at least, possibilities) are planted early in the story. I noticed that my professor was well accomplished. And I saw that they follow each other on Twitter. So they do know each other. I wrote my very opinionated but level-headed paper to him. And to my surprise, he was very impressed. He emailed my saying the piece was brilliant, and told me not to hesitate to contact him should I need him to write me a recommendation for work or post-grad schooling.

A month after I received that email, I read his birthday greeting to the mayor -- recounting their memories and how proud he was of him. And there I found out that, do they not only know each other, he was the mayor's professor back in government school. And not only was he his professor, he was the dean during the mayor's time in the said post-grad.

And so as I plant that seed for any future possibilities of a connection with the mayor, or in fact with anyone my professor knows who might be of good help to me, I write this post for any case of a good opportunity for me in the future.

See you then!

EDIT: I really think I'll see you there, 'cause I just received an email from L'Oreal declining my application despite having a, humbly might I say, stellar resume and scoring among the top 20% of takers for the digital marketing exam. Life really has a way of kicking you in the balls.

To All His Friends

It's been 3 years since my last post here. I haven't thought about anything about him since recently, and that's only because I want to write songs about it so I can at least let it out, and let others feel that it's gonna be okay after some time. Because it feels like forever ago, and I'm here now. I've grown a lot, I've experienced more hurt than I thought I will in the hands of, well, him. But I'm okay, I'm really really doing well.

But I have yet to read previous writings because I'm scared. I'm scared what it will do to me, that it might bring back the hurt that my reminiscent thoughts cannot even bring back along with the visuals. And you know the worst part about that? I'm scared to say that I have forgotten about the good times. That feeling alone is supposed to be my trophy for having survived it all. But I'm scared to say it.

Why? Because I'm scared that people will judge me for it. Because we are made to believe that I stayed for those good times, so why should I forget it? If I were in so much pain from a boy who gave me those good times and I already forgot about them, was I really hurt? Did he really hurt me?

The truth has been twisted multiple times behind my back that I'm scared that a new truth has been made without my consent. That they can attack me with different arguments that I could not argue with. I'm scared that people have made bullets out of an imbalanced story from the person who hurt me, and shoot me with them.

To all his friends, why do you do it?

Why do you spend Friday nights, drinking in bars with him? While knowing what he did to me, to the girl he cheated on me with, to my former friend who he's fucking now? How can you laugh with him knowing who he really is?

If I say he was bad to me, please don't tell me he wasn't just because he was good to you.

This whole thought process was brought about my idea of writing a song about it. The title would be "To All His Friends." I have been writing songs since I was 14, none of them were released anywhere but my guitar strings and my phone's notes app, or my diary pages. And I realized that all my writing about heartbreak has had one goal, a goal that should not have been there. I know I should not think like this, but I do believe I'm not perfect and many people go through the same thing. I did not realize that I have been writing songs because I want people to know, I want to clear my name.

I have always been more scared about what he tells other people more than what he thinks of me. And people always tell me that's wrong. Yes, it's wrong to always be worried about what other people think. To be honest, I was just scared of seeing a long line of message passing from what his friends think and tell other people which these other people will tell more people and it will eventually reach the people that matter to me. Cross that. I meant, the ones that actually matter to me.

And I do understand that if my friends were real friends, they wouldn't believe what other people say. That's true. But I also do believe humans' tendency to believe what other people say more than what the person says because people tend to lie to save themselves. So I'm just scared that someone thinks I'd lie. I won't. I don't.

To all his friends, how are you not scared?

You're his friends, and that is important. I was his girlfriend, and we thought about marrying each other someday. If he could break me, how are you not scared he couldn't do the same to you? Some of you still love me, some of you believed him when he says I'm crazy. I'm thankful for those who stayed my friends, but I mourn for those who stayed silent.

I'm not telling you to not be friends with him. You're friends. You can stay friends until you go down to your graves and write it in your tombstones that you had a great friendship with him. It does not concern me as much as you not call him out does. I understand how friendships work -- you support each other, you sometimes hate the same people. I get it. I have friends like that, too. When I go to my friends to cry out what you did to me, I start by detailing the good things you do so as not to put so much pressure on them to hate you, so as to be fair (although in hindsight, it's unfair to me how much I defend you). I don't want them to hate you. I just want them to hear me out when you can't. But you know what good friends do? They call their friends out when they do something wrong. This is not a my friends versus your friends situation. Some, not all, of my friends do not antagonize you when I hurt you. When I come to them scared, not knowing what to do when I said something I should not have, you know what they do? They help me find a way to fix it, to lift off the burden of carrying the pain from you. They don't antagonize you when you're not the antagonist.

To all his friends, all I'm asking is for you to be his friends.

You and I used to be friends. We'd laugh together, I'd share my food with you. Hell, I'd even go to parties I don't want to go to just to impress you. But now, I can't talk to you. We weren't friends. I wish I could ask you to think of me as your sister, and to feel what you would've felt if she was being hurt by your friend. But that wouldn't be fair. I don't need you to think of me as anyone else but me.

No one deserves to be watched as she dies unjustly, telling her you're sorry. The tears you shed for me is what drowns me. Help me out. Call him out.

Unless he broke the law, you do not have to stop being friends with him. Actually, that's your call. If you can be his friend and guide him back to the right path, to help him face his consequences then go continue being friends with him if he broke the law. He needs a friend. But in this case, he broke someone's heart, someone's trust, someone's self-esteem. All I ask is for you to know what's right, and that's not him. All I ask is for you to look at me and know I was wronged. All I ask is for you to tell him that if he's wrong, tell him it's not right.

I'm writing a song about this because it's my way of voicing out something that you probably do not believe because you trust him more than me. The whole truth has always sounded silent next to his. His is obnoxiously loud, telling every ally he has that all I say are lies to cover up his.

I've stayed silent because I know that the more I tried to defend myself, the more words he can use against me. Maybe he didn't lie to you, but maybe he also didn't tell you the whole truth. Maybe he only told you parts of it, the ones that will make him look good. I would never know.

--- I cut off parts of this sentence where I wanted to defend him. Enough of that. My own voice shut my side out for years. I lost that voice, and just stayed quiet as I watch you watch him live a bullshit life. I finally found my voice, and I'll make sure it stays damn loud.

To all his friends, do yourself a favor. Be a friend.

Listen.

Do me a favor

Put down your walls, your pride. Give me the understanding and the listening that I deserve from you. Even just now. Just for now.

Okay.

It baffles me. I don't understand how you have the nerve to be mad at me. To bring up what I did to you when I tell you I'm hurt and damaged every single day by the memories of what you did. Let me set things straight here. I have never stopped loving you. Even after what you did.

But I think now, I'm falling out of it. Like I should have a long time ago. And you're not helping me stay in love.

I didn't hurt you. What I did hurt you. You chose to look at it in a bad way. What I did was for you because I love you. "What I did" shouldn't even be factored in, or shouldn't even be part of this. And yes, like you said, you don't even have to ask for me to do it for you, because it comes out of love.

I love you, I haven't moved on. But that does not entitle you to anything anymore. Despite the fact I'm still giving you love, even without you deserving it.

How can you tell me things that I did that hurt you, after you damaged me. I was crushed. No. You crushed me. How can you ask for so much more from me, when I gave you everything and you threw it away. How can you muster up the courage to actually say in my face that you regret trusting me, when I did you a favor that you threw away, again. It crushed me to not be there for you, and you wasted that by defeating its purpose. You wasted everything again.

You don't know how much I appreciate you giving me all your time and efforts after what you did, but believe it or not, you're starting to keep score. You're starting to hate me for not giving you back the love you want after you trying to give me so much efforts to make me forget what you did.

What you did.

I hate how it's summarised to 3 words.

Every second you stayed with her, was a choice. A choice of not being with me and doing what's right. So it was not one mistake. You chose sex over me. Was that how little you think of me? You chose that over and over again.

How can I ever forget that?

How can you do that to me?

I know. Stupidity. Immaturity.

Isn't that what's happening now too? Immaturity. You regretted the first instance, and I was relieved to know that the Jerry I knew was still in there somewhere. What scares me now is that, you don't even regret being immature again. You refuse to understand. You refuse to give me fairness. Once again, you're choosing yourself.

Loving yourself is good. But loving yourself, and asking me to love you over myself is just fucked up. And that's what has been happening. Our whole situation isn't like 'you hurt me, I hurt you.' It's 'you hurt me, and I just let you'. I loved you.

I have every fucking right to tell you to just grow up. Grow up, Jerry. It's what ruined us. It's the very least you can do for me after all of it.

If reading this angers you, then stop reading. There's no point anymore. You lost me, again. And now, I know, you're angry for the wrong things. And now, I know, you don't care again that you lost me.

I don't deserve this.

But still.

I love you.

All my love,
Ela

Day 33: Love Comes in Different Forms

Context, at the start of our last week together, I told him I'll be there for him. I totally was confident that I will be, despite all the shade I threw and heavy thoughts about what he did that kept on coming all throughout the week.

On Saturday was the wake of his baby brother (RIP Javi, we will miss you terribly.), and I bravely asked my parents if I could go, considering that I have just made up with my mom after learning that I was still hanging out with the person who cheated on me and replaced me with someone else.

My parents then explained to me that they know I still love him, but then I have to stop hurting myself by loving him. And that means I have to stop making him dependent on me because it will damage us both in the long run as we get deeper and deeper into that emotional trap.

What he can't understand, even after that 2-3-hour phone call, is that how can you do this to people you love.

First of all, I was not allowed to anymore. Talking to him would just defeat the purpose of giving him the space he needs but doesn't want.

Second, I am willing for him to hate me, loathe me, unlove me, just for him to take this opportunity to grow. He was at his lowest point. TBH with you, I was just following orders. Orders that seemed cold, but weren't. They were objective.

I had to be on the colder side. I am too soft to hurt the one who hurt me, that is not just who I am. A person's lowest point will determine their strength, and this is the best opportunity for him to grow. And I love him, so I would not be selfish and steal him away from that chance.

I don't care if he hates me, I do but, he needs to grow up and be mature and this is his chance. I love him, so I'm letting him go.

This is a very eventful day, that I think might have just ended it all for the both of us.

Day 20: Victim turned Alleged Criminal

We have been hanging out ever since school started. I know. It sounds stupid. And to be honest, the first thing I thought were my friends who held me through the pain. And I tried to ease it in all the time, to tell them what's been going on. But, I felt that I was too much of a burden that I stopped telling them what's happening, until they all assumed I'm getting back with my ex, and that I have 0 respect left for them.

All my respect goes to you guys. And it hurts that I lost friends before the same way I'm losing them now. People hate it apparently when you go too silent. I mean, I get it. You deserve to know what's going on. You gave so much just to put me back on track, but please do understand that the process of moving on cannot be forced that way. I tried, and it didn't work.

People deal with traumatic experiences in their own different ways. And if my way is hanging out with my ex because I know I still love him, please understand. Please understand that I'm giving him a limited time, until this Friday in fact. Please understand that no matter how strong I thought I was, this will kill me again. Please understand that I know you guys tried to prevent this from happening again, but please do understand I chose to feel loved by him again even though I will have to go through another goodbye. This is the way I know I won't experience too much withdrawals. Moving on is a process I'm willing to take slowly, and I hope you understand.

I know it's stupid. But the thought that he did not want me anymore is one of the main things that killed me before. And now, I know he's being genuine, I know him more than you guys do -- although that bit me in the ass, I know. But I knew him well enough to know and expect what he did to happen. I'll be honest, I have so much doubt that he might stop trying to change, and stop calling me stupid for believing in the slightest bit. I know it when he's genuine, but I also have prepared myself for the worst. Now, I know the pain that I'll expect. I'll be more ready now.

Rest assured, we will not be back together. He pushed me away, and I never was desperate enough to be on stand by waiting for him. I know I deserve better, and I will get what I deserve. The thought of him and that girl makes me sick. I cannot think of the idea of sexual activities the same way anymore. I am now completely disgusted. I cannot even be close to him without feeling disgusted with myself for being too close. But we loved each other, and we still do. But I know that will never be enough for me to overlook what he did. Trust me. I just want to be reckless for a bit, to continue to be loved for a bit. Let me have this, and I'll be back as your good friend again.

I am always the loud one, the energetic one, the sociable one. My rants weren't my lowest point, my silence is. And I'm sorry I expected you guys to know that. I guess we really don't know each other that well yet. I'm sorry that I lost you guys in the process of trying to be a better friend by keeping things to myself first. I'm sorry I'm not yet giving you the friendship you deserve in return of your kindness. Don't worry. I can give it back soon. Just give me time to heal myself first without having to explain myself. I wanted to, but I knew you'll get tired of it. And so I stopped.

Jokes on me, that was exactly the opposite of what you guys thought I'll do. I'm sorry. I truly am. I always wish I didn't give love as much as I do, I wish I wasn't this emotionally attached, I wish I was stronger than I thought I was. I'm sorry.

I'll be right back.

Day 1: Let's try to let this go

Brief context: My (then) boyfriend cheated on me and replaced me with the girl. Both of them were completely aware of what they were doing.

That's the simplest way I can phrase it, without putting the blame on the wrong people and saving their reputations from the 0 readers I have in here.

But it's done.

They did what they did, apologetically or not.

And it was so wrong and absurd that it ate me up. The anger, the pain ate me up. I had to talk to my friends about it, but little did I know that my circles are huge, and people do actually care. Word spreads fast, and I eventually helped him ruin his reputation.

It became toxic.

I know I had every right to tell my friends about what he did. But it is very low of anyone to stoop down to the level of the people who betrayed them. And so I apologize if I ever did.

No one reads this blog. It's only me here. And to future me, I hope you're reading this as you tell yourself, "I don't regret anything."

You did nothing wrong. Well, you did. You kept your relationship from your parents. Honestly, if you didn't, none of this would have happened. But it's done. They were hurt. You were hurt. Everybody was hurt.

Previously you said you wish he comes back for you, begs for you, and you'll leave him begging. Now he's doing exactly that, how does it feel?

I know deep inside of me that I still love him. That was almost a year of true friendship, sacrifices, heartfelt moments, companionship and support through thick and thin. How the heck can you unlove someone you went through all of those with??

But all you can do now is focus on yourself. I need to love myself more. I set that aside to give him more love and that really did not end well for you, did it?

Be whole first. Then see how it goes.

I am tired of all of this. I am tired of thinking about every lie, every betrayal. I am tired comparing myself to the girl. I am tired of trying to analyze what happened to give myself more reasons to hate him. I am tired. I am done.

This is day 1 of moving on. Let's try to let this go.

what we feared the most

[so I found this unfinished draft when my parents found out about my "boyfriend"]

I honestly don't know where to begin. Because I never expected this, or at least, never imagined it would happen. I always know what to do in every situation because I always imagine scenarios. But not this one. Never this one.

So let me start off with the second round of my conversation with my parents, and this time, they were not only disappointed -- they were mad.

My mom has great motherly instincts, and she knows everything. I need not to say anything. She knew as I "tried" to break up with you that I was still talking and communicating with you afterwards. And apparently, that wasn't what they wanted.

"You okay?" you asked. Believe me, I was left speechless as to what I should say. And this time, I'm doing it the right way.

"No but ALL GOOD HAHAHAHA maybe I just need a 2nd shower lolol" and let me piece it together for you now. Right before I started writing this, I tweeted.

"The shower disguises tears. Shower often. Soon enough it'll rain, and it'll drown your tears, it'll drown your fears."

(fck you messaged just now and you saw the tweet)

They're making me choose now, Jerry.

UPDATE:

So he turned into the asshole people thought he was and so he is not worth my time anymore, let alone this blog post.