26 February 2012
If attraction simply meant being adored by the physical attributes of someone, then I doubt if what happened to me was just plain attraction alone. I had been addicted on putting myself into a conversation with him or both of them to be exact. I had drown myself to get their attention. (Blame them for giving me an easy pass as they let me share sweet times with them, to which I created a high cliff of expectations and let it blossom.)
In fact, I had fallen in love with the first guy and subsequently fall out of love. Then after quite sometime, I found myself clinging to the second guy, desperate to save myself from a heart broken I personally assumed and created. Like what happened to the first, I fall out of love to this second guy. And learned that I was becoming attracted to the first guy for the second time around. It was indeed a cycle of plain fuckery. So please allow me to use the word them.
I did not know what brought me to hurt myself consecutively. I wanted to believe that it was indeed a part of testing myself, as if life was an examination except that I hadn’t been prepared for this catastrophe. Yes, I had fallen in love with several men before and obviously, none of them turned out to be my boyfriend. My epic search of romantic partner was always a disaster, to which I ended up crying on a bathroom floor, self-pittying, and telling myself how stupid I am to let my self-imposed control and composure collapsed just for a man. I couldn’t even remember how many times I degraded myself.
Moreover, I wasn’t much suicidal about what I did. Frankly, I had pull out something good out of it. I mean, hello universe? look at me now. I knew this was very cliche but I totally became stronger than I ever thought I would be. Before, I had problems of controlling my emotions most especially during the times that I was torn between telling one of them what I truly feel or just kept it as a secret and locked it up on a sealed vault. But one day, I was surprised when I obliged myself to cry and no single tear flowed down. It was the closest proof I could ever produce. That I was finally learning. I am young and vulnerable. I had long accepted that I naturally craved for romance. It almost always felt like there was someone inside of me provoking to seek true love outside just for the sake of sugar coating loneliness.
Few months left and I’m turning another year older. I’m much confident to say that I have prepared myself from waves of romantic problems. (if you consider my miseries as love stories.) I’m a little satisfied and of course settled with my situation right now.
The hope of finding my prince charming at some point of time in the future still remains. And I wouldn’t let anyone smash that hope down. There’s someone out there who will love me unconditionally just the same way I will love him. He will make a lot of effort just to have me in his life and be grateful at the end of the day. He will make me special. He will kiss me and tell that the long wait is over. And most of all, he will prove that waking up over his chest is always a good way to start the day.
Some people are engineered to be alone. And Angelo Caerlang is not one of them.