The History of Love.

I heard love makes the world go round.
I bought the thought quite early in my life.
Too soon to chase it, too young to find it.
Never mind the consequences, never thought the heartbreak.

Got obsessed to a guy thrice my age.
Could not wait to grow up.
Determined to throw innocence away.
Could I know more at the age of twelve?

It didn’t stop there.
Of course, it didn’t.
It was the beginning of something.
Something to regret.

Teenage years kicked in, how exciting it was.
Quickly I adored every school heart throbs.
One by one, onto the next to another.
I never got tired, nothing could stop me.

Stalking, pretending, every thing that’s unimaginable.
I accomplished just so I could have piece of them.
Losing, crying, getting busted and humiliated.
He liked girls, haven’t I seen that coming?

It didn’t stop there.
Of course, it didn’t.
It was the beginning of something.
Something to regret.

Then there’s senior year.
Romeo and Juliet.
Love story.
Us.

I programmed myself to believe there’s a Prince Charming.
He was riding a white horse with a dark shining armor.
I was the lonely one patiently waiting to be saved.
He would come and we would live happily ever after.

In reality, he came alive. He transferred in my school because of me.
No joke, he really did. We were neighbors and we were close.
Those same old summer love stories written on novels.
Those were true, it happened to me summer of 2009.

Little did I know, I was scared to give it all and be left behind.
I knew the moment we met he would sail to foreign land.
I pushed him away, I cut all modes of communication.
He had no idea why I began acting so strange.

I lost a strong friendship that’s made of fairytale.
I lost the chance of first kiss inside my room.
I lost the only person who’s genuinely nice to me.
I lost him.

It didn’t stop there.
Of course, it didn’t.
It was the beginning of something.
Something to regret.

College was shitty.
College was a fucking mess.
College gave my heart a shitload of disease.
College could be the death of me.

Let me give you a countdown.

First, I liked every single new face I seen.
Second, I couldn’t remember but I knew he had a surname of Lao.
Third, a transferee from the oldest school in Asia.
Fourth, my friend’s brother.

I was sixteen and girl I ain’t know nothing yet.

It didn’t stop there.
Of course, it didn’t.
It was the beginning of something.
Something to regret.

Straight dude sagas.
Yes I seen it coming.
But they were nice to me.
I could not help it.

Just because he texts you doesn’t mean he’s into you.
Is what I learned from a back to back heart break.
Just because he’s gentleman to you doesn’t mean he’s gay too.
Is what I learned from a straight guy’s point of view.

The last tale from the epic saga went something like:
He’s small, he’s cute, I like him that way.
But then he likes boobies.
So why I keep pushing myself to a wrong trap.

Three heartbreaks consecutively.
I was having none of it.
Straight dude sagas had to end.
Right away, right then, right there.

But surprisingly, it didn’t stop there.
Of course, it didn’t.
It was the beginning of something.
Something to regret.

Couple of months after my heart was doomed.
Came a guy who spent three fourths of his life at church.
Conventionally not the typical good looking guy.
Coz he didn’t have the face but he was super nice to me.

I knew all along it was not right.
I saw him before I sleep; after I wake up.
It was terrifying I seek advice to a priest.
It was painful to stop feelings from happening.

It didn’t stop there.
Of course, it didn’t.
It was the beginning of something.
Something to regret.

Fast forward December 2012.
There’s this Carle Martinez.
Who could forget that?
When I wrote a lot about him.

It was magical to fall in love to him.
The feeling I got was so enchanting it thrilled me.
I almost thought he was the man I’m gonna marry someday.
But almost was never enough.

As you know it didn’t work out.
It didn’t happen, it ended too soon.
My heart was being torn apart slowly.
It was so painful it made me cry.

It didn’t stop there.
Of course, it didn’t.
It was the beginning of something.
Something to regret.

I took some time off to think things out.
I slowed down a little bit to hear my thoughts.
What did I really like in life?
What were my priorities?

Was it worth my time to chase a guy constantly?
Did I deserve to never receive anything in return?
Was I satisfied at one-sided love story always?
Did it equate my worth as a human being?

My whole journey towards seeking love was a big fraud.
The road to romance was always leading to bitterness.
Looking back, I realized nothing of those made me happy.
Every love story I made to believe was always fast-paced.

In the end, all experiences hurt me deeply.
They were all sad, painful, and unsuccessful.
A lot of times I became frustrated and defeated.
A lot of nights I would cry myself to sleep.

In my mind, it was always a daunting question of why.

Currently, I have tons of crushes.
One of which I realize was being an ass.
So I stopped writing him a love song.
Never again Miguel Vasquez.

Regardless of how bad each situations I’ve gone through,
I still have the soul to believe that life is better with special someone.
There is a magical and enchanting fairytale awaiting for me.
Because, well, I believe love makes the world go round.

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The Queer Diary

How did this whole thing started in the first place? Well I think ever since I was a kid, I've always wanted to express myself . Sure I could have picked painting, singing, dancing, playing instruments, crafting, or any of those lovely forms of artistry as a medium for me to channel my thoughts and emotions, but in writing is where my heart belongs. Technically, I had no degree in writing but that doesn't make me less of a writer. I have no idea what the future has in store for me but I've always known deep down in my heart that I want to write. P.S. if you reach this site then please know that I am thankful that you give time for this and that you like to read. Also, no matter what you're going through, believe me when I say things will get better.

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