Saturday, November 7, 2020

I haven't written a sad post in a while.

I haven't written a sad post in a while. I checked. Although I have written many an angry post in 2020, I hadn't written a sad one. The last sad post that I wrote was back in September 2019 when my dog died. So coming to this space wine-drunk to type as tears run down my cheeks feels a little strange and unfamiliar. But here we are. Sad and heartbroken. Lost and alone.

The other day, I received a message that bore some unexpected news, and I found myself paralyzed in my seat. I was in the middle of writing an article, but my fingers froze as I stared at the iMessage notification at the top-right corner of my screen. And the tears just flowed. They didn't flow silently, either. They came with that weird and awkward hagulgol sound; but since I didn't want to alarm my family or explain the sudden outburst of sadness, I ran to the bathroom and scream-cried into a towel instead. Not my finest moment, I have to admit. But it happened. I'm not entirely sure where it came from. I mean, I know where it came from, but it was a place hidden so deep inside of me that it came as a surprise.

A quick backstory: I've had the worst luck with men. I've dated douche after douche after douche; and when I do start talking to someone I might like as more than a casual thing, I get hit with the "I'm not looking for anything serious" card or the "I'm scared of commitment" card or the (my favorite) "Do we need to put a label on it?" card. No, we don't need to put a label on it, sir; but I would like to know where I stand. Am I a friend with potential or am I just a friend with benefits?

To be honest, this never really bothered me before. Casual dating was my thing. I was a very social and drunken girl pre-COVID so I didn't really have the mindset to dwell on things too much. Heck, even during quarantine, I dated a douche and felt absolutely nothing afterward.

So when I started talking to you (again) and I found myself constantly checking my iMessages to see if you had sent anything and I found myself thinking of you whenever I saw certain memes or certain food; I didn't say anything. I didn't want to admit that I was getting what they call *shudders* feelings. I didn't have feelings. Some people would even say I didn't have a heart. Some guys would even say I merely used them for sex. And yet there I was, scream-crying into a towel in the bathroom.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not in love with you or anything. However, for the first time in three whole years, I could actually imagine myself being in a relationship again. You know, doing the whole pet name thing. Posting someone's face on social media. Bringing someone to family gatherings. Introducing someone to my friends. Geeking out with someone about movies. Having someone I could pig out with and workout with - ahhh, the perfect balance. You got me. You understood me. And I really wanted to see where that could have gone. But that's not happening anymore.

Given my international background, meeting people who can understand me and the way that I am - blunt, carefree, and annoyingly unclingy, unjealous, and walang pake - hasn't exactly been easy. I have lived here for a decade now and I've only met two guys I could really, truly connect with on every level. You were one of them. And the idea of having to let you go before we even had a real chance at anything stung quite a bit. Okay, a lot. Not quite a bit.

But it's okay. Really. I'm all for supporting your dreams and seeing you grow and witnessing how you achieve everything you want to achieve. But it still sucks. I did like you for real, after all. Even though I was in denial and downplayed it all the times when I talked to my friends, it became pretty clear just how much I liked you when I cried in the bathroom.

Maybe this just isn't our time (even though this was already our second chance after I screwed up the first time). Maybe it's God's way of telling me that I have absolutely no chance of finding love in this country. Maybe it's His way of telling me it's time to pack up and leave. Or maybe I'm just destined to be alone. I'm so tired of being alone now, though. You've made me realize that.

I want to have someone to turn to when I have amazing news and when I have bad news. Someone who will cheer with me when things go well at work and who will comfort me when something unfortunate happens. Someone who doesn't pester me all day long, but still makes me feel important and wanted. Someone who doesn't just see me as a mere option, the last resort, a booty call, or a casual fling.

It's funny because I've been avoiding relationships like the plague for three years now, and now here I am, practically longing for one. Maybe not with you particularly (though I think that could've potentially worked out if we had tried - not gonna lie), but you've made me realize that I need and want something more than what I've been getting in the past three years. I just wonder if it's even in the cards for me at all.