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You can call me "Inggo"

11th March, 2006. 8:53 pm. Wala Lang

Para sa mga may hindi alam, buhay pa ako. ^_^

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6th May, 2003. 2:00 am. Commitment

Once in a while, I still think of her. She hates me now, I know…or rather, I feel. From the way she acts, and the way she talks. And even though she still says that she loves me when she calls me, I can hear behind those words. After all the things that happened, more than one year of “commitment”, alas, forever ended so soon.

I don’t blame her, though. I guess it was my fault, again. I wasn’t true to myself, as I was true to her. I loved her, yes, but probably too much. I wanted her to be happy all the time, no matter the pain and suffering these things gave me. They will pass, I always thought, and I knew it was one of the risks when I decided to court her. I guess I just didn’t try long enough.

Our relationship started smoothly. We were friends then, but not too close. But she was special—she was the only girl I could relate with, and I could go close to. After school, we went to the computer rentals, playing network games, and she was there. She was my partner during one of the school events, wherein our class won. And along with my fellow classmates, she was the only girl I actually “talked” to. She was the only girl I could relate with.

She had a boyfriend, but I won’t say any insults in this one. After six months, they broke up. The reason? I didn’t know until we became “committed” to each other. But somehow, I know I have something to do with it. She was my classmate, and she always did things that made me look onto her…hinting that she liked me. I just laughed it up, hiding what I felt.

Now when she broke up with her boyfriend, some of my friends ask me about my side (friends of mine who were friends of hers). One of them eventually found out, and although he didn’t tell her, he gave her hope, saying “mahal ka rin nun” (I didn’t know that until we became more than friends). I set aside my feelings for her, but, as an ever-changing person, I stopped playing Counterstrike, and my feelings for her deepened. One time, we had a party on our house. Many of my friends were invited and she was among one of them. She slept overnight, and I spent an entire thirty minutes just looking at her while she sleeps. I didn’t have the guts to face her then, though, and that was the last time I saw her until the second semester started. During that sem, though, I didn’t see much of her until late November, when I think she started to notice. Before all this, she called once and I was the abrupt talker that I was. When she called late in the month, reminding me of one of our class reports, she noticed not just a difference in tone, but also in attitude. “Ba’t parang andami mong sinasabi ngayon,” she asked me. Speachless, these words came out from my mouth: “ah, eh, ganun eh!” followed by a chuckle. When she hung up, I wished she would call again, but it was December until I had another confrontation. And that was when I asked her…

Almost three months after the Christmas season, we became more than friends. These three months, I’ve been very changed from what most people know me for. I’ve seen less of my friends and most of her. I’ve been tolerant of her tantrums, and gave her happy thoughts. My words were different. They became sweeter, more poetic and sensitive. I would walk with her to the jeep stop, and wait until she gets to ride. Sometimes, she was silent. I ask why and she broke to tears. She said I was insensitive. Insensitive? Yes… now I realize. I didn’t know how much she loved me; all I cared was how much I loved her. And I know I love her.

A magical month was February. That’s when we became more than friends. Who was I then? I was a person who became more sensitive, more poetic. I was kinder than the person I was, and I was more caring, more giving. I was less intolerant, and I was more patient. And I was not the type who would get jealous.

Six months this magical ride remained on a smooth course. Yes, there were the small arguments and disagreements, but they never changed accord. I was still the person I was, until distance was given between her and me. Upon my return, I once again changed—I was more sensitive, more poetic. More sensitive that it made me jealous of the people around her. I started thinking about our “commitment”. I felt that she abused it, going out with someone else, being with someone else, spending intimacy with someone else.

This jealousy grew for the next six months. Now, the days when we argued weren’t the ones counted, but the days we didn’t. Since we were no longer classmates, she spent more time with other people—her friends. I wouldn’t find her without another boy aside from me. She reasons, that’s all they will be—friends.

But as I look unto it, what am I to her now?

I listed it down: I was her boyfriend, it all comes down to…but as I saw it, I was much lesser than that. I am the one who walks her to the sakayan. I was the one who buys her stuff she wants (food, basically). I was the one who talks to her on the phone. And I was the one who kissed her and hugged her. Do I make her happy? I don’t know. But from what it looks like, I don’t.

Then, I look upon what they were to her: They were her friends. They played basketball with her, a sport I will never be able to go at. They spend more time with her, naturally, because they were classmates, and that takes almost ten hours, leaving me with less than six. They were the ones that filled the stories she tells me on the phone. They could do anything I did except for kissing and hugging. And they were the ones that filled her dreams.

Jealousy…I was filled with it. By the time my last screw loosened, I was so angry at the world. It felt as though they were more important than me for her. I gave her a choice…it was either them or me. She didn’t answer. And with that, I didn’t see her again.

I wasn’t mad at her, though; I was mad at them—her friends. For three weeks I changed gravely. I was no longer kind, no longer sensitive—still jealous, though, and still angry. My words were still poetic, but filled with hatred for the world—until all the emotions drained out from me.

For those reading this, I know you must think I am a jerk. They really were just her friends. So why am I doing all this?

Commitment… I thought it meant more than that. I thought she placed her heart and soul as I placed mine into one being. I thought that meant that there would never be a “you” or “me”, and is reduced to “us”. I thought it meant being a martyr for each other, and I thought both of us would have to adjust to the world that was ours.

What I felt? I was the only one who sacrificed. I wanted to change her badly… To change her to the person I thought she would be for me. I wanted her to trust me, and in return not to abuse the trust I give her. I wanted her to adjust to my emotions as well as I adjust to hers… And still, all of this did not show until it was too late.

What do I have left? My friends were reduced to cold, forgotten memories. Yes, they were still there, and still considered me friend, but things change, and they grew far apart from me. I couldn’t face my family for all the lies I’ve said just to be with her. And now, who am I to face myself for not being true to me…

What am I to blame? I blame mostly the distance; next to that, I blame myself.

I always knew who she was—an intimate, sweet, caring being. She was a bit moody, but she’s only human. She was the most beautiful girl in the world. And most of all, she was a person who was true to herself—someone who I can never be. And who she was, she is still up to now.

I’ve lost everything I had, and it was my fault. I changed. And I changed because I wasn’t true to myself—because I kept all the emotions inside of me. I changed because I kept who I really was—an envious and selfish being. And now, I guess it’s too late.

I changed…but she hasn’t. Maybe a little in height, and some weight, but she was still the person I loved. As for me, I guess she made a commitment to the person I was before, but not who I am now.

Who am I now? I am a nobody.

Current mood: useless.

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