Apologue #49: Slooooooow Men

One of my pet peeves when it comes to dating is slow men. You know who you are and what I mean. Men that are indecisive and don’t know what they want. It drives me up the wall. Frankly, it should drive any woman up the wall and bat crazy at that. If you’re just slow and that’s how you date, that’s alright. But if you’re slow whilst still doing all the flirting and talking late into the night bit — I no longer know if you just want some booty or you’re just.that.thick.

Take for example, my college buddy, Theo. Yes, the one who “led” me on but didn’t know because of his lack of relationships. (Click here and read bulletin No.2). Sure he drove me crazy for almost two years of our friendship and yes, I did invest a heck of a lot of time and effort to make him see me for who I am, which of course crashed and burned because he was just.that.slow. It was horrendous. I don’t even like talking about.

Maybe there’s a breed of men that are just supposed to be hard to read or figure out. Maybe they reside in some kind of neutral zone, like Switzerland! between the sexes and that’s why they’re awesome because they are generally, straight heterosexual males but with androgynous features that gives them the ability to still enjoy sports and be macho but also sensitive and talk with you long hours into the night.

When I think about Theo, all I remember are our long phone conversations. This was in college too, so we definitely invested a lot of time that we shouldn’t have if we both knew where this was going, which was a dead end. Each day we awoke to texts from each other and wishing one another a good day. Which then led to texts here in there in between class periods. Then of course instant messaging (ahhh~ the days of AIM) whilst we “study” at home or the library. Then we’d both have a break and eat something and have a little of our own time to ourselves and then end the night with an average of five hours (you heard right, FIVE freaking hours) EACH night as we fall asleep to the sound of our voices and then BAM. It’s morning again and we do it all over again.

I’m not crazy and I kid you not, that’s what I did with him for 2 freaking years and pondering WHEN THE HELL HE’LL STRAP ON HIS BALLS AND ASK ME THE FREAK OUT. Of course, in the end I gave up. Me and my naive self could no longer hold on patiently and I was frustrated to the point where I thought my pride would break. I left without looking back and don’t give him the time any more. He, on the other hand, has no idea what caused the change in our friendship. He’s still single and has always been single. Good riddance.

Isn’t this ridiculously frustrating? What is it? Don’t you really know? It’s not that hard to figure out what you want, right? What are you hiding and calculating for you to take this long? The reason I’m frustrated thinking about this all over again is because I’m yet again in a situation where I am a sitting duck with another Theo. I don’t know why I put through with it again.

Example number two is my dear friend, Ron. You all remember, Ron, my sweetheart. Update on him now is that he’s broken up with said girlfriend a month ago and is single and ready to mingle. He’s single which definitely makes me feel better about not having to worry about shying him away but now we’re talking more than ever again and it’s confusing again. I know I stated before that with him, I should make some more changes and take more chances because I felt like I lost something great when he got himself a girlfriend. But now, months later, that feeling of infinite is gone and I’m back to square one where I was with him.

We still do two to three hour phone conversations and texts along the way. When mentioning the time I’ve been spending on Ron to one of my friends, they were extremely happy of the circumstances but the minute I mentioned if this doesn’t seem all too familiar and pop in Theo’s name, my friend sat there stunned with a worried expression and was silently cursing throughout our conversation. She knows how bad it was and doesn’t want me to endure that all over again. Which I surely hope I don’t make the same mistake of dragging this one on for years into the future. I no longer have the strength.

But really, men. Sometimes I just don’t understand what you’re doing. Even when I know it’s not a booty call and I know you’re not that kind of guy — why on earth are you tormenting not only us, but yourself with this? It’s not just us that’s putting our time and effort on the line. You too, are investing a lot of time for nothing if you don’t make a move. Don’t you realize that the longer you pull this off, the harder it will be for BOTH of us to find ANYONE to date. As OM stated when I asked for advice on this, why on earth would any guy want to date me if I spend three hours into the night talking with another dude no matter how close we are? This applies to you too because I can guarantee you that no future girlfriend will find you cute talking to another woman for three hours just to chitchat. Don’t kid yourself, we’re programmed to be jealous and we will never stop nagging you for it.

So, is it because there’s something blocking you in wanting all of this or are you that slow that you can’t make up your mind? My patience is drying up and I don’t know how much longer I can wait for you no matter how awesome you are and how much I love you for what you mean to me. Sayonara, dude.

Picture Perfect

“Life is full of surprises and adventures, but sometimes it’s the seemingly ordinary moments that make life special. Picture Perfect is a tribute to those little moments and a reminder to cherish each and every day.” The Jubilee Project is one of my favorite channels on YouTube, you should definitely check out more of their work, it’s all so wonderful. Here’s to another beautifully made short film that I wanted to share with everyone. Enjoy! 🙂

Apologue #46: My Six Types of Love

Within the many different archetypes of loves in this world, I have tuned myself to remember the six types that most people will encounter in their lives. Some were good, some were not so hot, and some were downright outrageous but experience-wise, it was all good in the name of love. Who knew there were so many types? Let’s go see what we can dig up!

First is Eros: a passionate, physical and emotional love based on aesthetic enjoyment aka the stereotypical “romantic” love. This one is the hot spot of all relationships. The most memorable and fun, romantic and blissful. It’s the one where you can’t entangle your hands away from each other and you’re not particularly doing anything but constantly attached to the hip.

I try to be romantic every once in a while even though I dream of romanticism every day. But the one I remember most in this type of love was with a dear friend. Our emotions and experiences were constantly challenged and heightened with each new experience because everything was so new both of us. There’s tingling just by locking eyes even though you aren’t kissing, your smile feels like it’s hooked up onto your ears and you can’t help it because everything that your eyes see feels like a dream and feels so surreal, his small touch on your hair sends shivers down your spine — it’s just unbelievable. I don’t know if it was because I was young and naive or because this was the first time in everything, but you get hooked like a drug, wishing you’ll never come back to reality.

Ludus: a love that is played as a game or sport; think conquest. Toying with someone’s emotions and playing them for sport, thinking of conquest, is WRONG. You can’t conquer over someone. Sure, you could dominate, heck, it could even potentially be called a game even in the idea of thinking of the whole relationship concept as a “dating game.” That’s as far and close as I have ever gotten my hands dirty in the thrilling idea of the “chase” in pursuit of gaining someone’s heart driven from my true feelings.

Storge: an affectionate love that slowly develops from friendship, based on similarity. This love is everybody’s sappy first love. It’s the story we all know and always talk about. You either learn from it or get real hurt by it. It’s tough love falling for a close friend. My advice, the relationships you make from friends are best from friendships with long histories because even if it doesn’t work out in the end, the friendship may still take a toll but will eventually come back with some leeway because of the friendship history to come back on. Short term friendships don’t work so hot in these areas.

Pragma: love that is driven by the head, not the heart. This is a problem area for me because I feel that since I’m very calculative, I’m always in this area in the scheme of beginning relationships. I can’t help myself to plan out the ideas and see prospects of what could happen. I watch out for my own back too many times that I missed out on great opportunities. No one feels romantic by someone who uses their heads too much in a heart-filled place. As a woman, I’ve learned that it’s okay to be strong, but every once in a while, you need to lean on your man and trust him in order for things to come into perspective.

Mania: obsessive love; experiencing great emotional highs and lows, also being very possessive and often jealous lovers. I can confidently say that I have never been possessive over my boyfriend. Sure, I have been jealous a couple times but I have never obsessed over him to the point where I would want to control him. That’s ridiculous. But, I have had boyfriends that had a mania love towards me where they were extremely over-protective of who I meet and where I go. I can think of two exes that fit this category perfectly solely on behavior and mental analysis.

Of the two, there was one that was a fine boyfriend all-around, but he was indeed the type that goes bonkers and just mad hare crazy when he can’t reach me. I remember one time, I was at some meeting with a couple of friends and I had my phone on vibrate in my purse and didn’t know he was calling. I had already told him where I would be but he called to reach me nonetheless. By the time the meeting was over (which was about 2 hours), I found myself with about 30 missed calls and equally 30 voicemail messages. He was the type that even though he knows where I would be, since he’s not there with me, he HAS to find out and know I’m okay and safe. Possessive much? A little bit. Controlling? Not really. But SUPER-OMEGA-OVERPROTECTIVE.

Lastly, Agape: a selfless altruistic love, like spiritual. To love someone that transcends all other meanings of love and bring out an emotional and spiritually connection of bondage between me and my literal, soul-mate — has not happened yet. This is the type of love that I am still direly searching for. I have found this type of love that I share with God, and I feel that it only exists exponentially with a deity. We as humans have too many driven feelings of joy, sadness, jealousy and fear that I don’t believe we can love another human being such selflessly. I’m sure the meaning is different between married couples, and of course a parent to a child. There is a special bond of love there and I’m sure we can love unconditionally, but to connect to a spiritual level of selfless altruistic love without any personal selfishness — I feel, among humans, seems close to impossible.

Apologue #44: Timing is a Bitch

Kids, your old Aunt Robin knew exactly what she was talking about. Timing sure is a bitch. It’s as if the heavens didn’t have enough to gloat and laugh about from our own daily miseries and decided to add the concept of “perfect timing” as the tip of the iceberg in trying to ruin our decent lives — correction, relationships.

This is the story about how I was once engaged to a wonderful man named Zachery and how horrible our timing was. Zachery proposed during the spring semester of my freshman year in college. Yup, fresh out of high school but fresh into college — what a genius we both were.

It was a time when we were too young and naive to know anything better. Our youthful hearts got in the way of everything and we truly believed that love will solve all our problems. But in all seriousness, we actually planned it out and thought it was a good time. We weren’t that stupid. It just seems those times were ignorant now that I’m wiser and older, or whatever I am now.

I was a freshman starting my pre-med program and he was seven years older and working on his Ph.D towards electrical engineering. We were two nerds in a pod. And frankly, it didn’t bother us much. We’ve already been together for almost two years so school was already much part of our lives. We were just happy to be in the same school together.

We as a couple didn’t do much when it came to the romantic essence of things. We studied, ate, and fell asleep on desks most of the time. He and I were both new to the town and starting fresh, so we didn’t have much friends to hang out either. But it was okay, we pretty much felt married anyways, nagging and all.

After accepting the proposal and planning the wedding we tried to be logical and realistic to the best that we could. We knew each other too well and we both knew that as much as we wanted to be married, the now aspect of things wasn’t a good time. We decided that there really is no use rushing and being the considerate gentleman he was, he knew I needed lots of time to pull off my dream wedding. So, we decided to get married after I graduate from college — he was willing to wait 3+ years for me.

There was never a trace of guilt for having to wait on each other for that long. I wanted to finish school first and at least try and find a decent job and he agreed. He wanted to get most of his program done too before having to worry about marriage life. We managed to be negotiable and understanding as best as we could.

It sounds all good up to here. He was perfect and I was dandy. But time — never holds still for anybody. It wasn’t long, probably half a year, when he started asking funny questions, such as, if I could graduate earlier, what kind of career path I’m looking into, where would I likely want to live, etc. Then he started asking if there was any chance of moving the wedding to an earlier date. I don’t know why, but I started seeing red flags everywhere and I couldn’t explain to myself, why I would in the first place.

I really loved Zachery, I really did. I really wanted to marry him, I truly did. But it scared me to death every time he brought up the topic of bringing up the wedding sooner.

It wasn’t until one day, he went out of town with a couple of friends for some man-time, when he suddenly to call. Naturally, I figured that it was a call about him hitting the road soon or to not wait up. He called to tell me what a great time he was having with the boys and of course, he’d be late but to also check the text he’ll be sending after we hang up. Sure enough, a picture text came and behold, it was a photo of some house. It was extremely beautiful and mesmerizing until I see his text that reads, “I found our dream house. Should we buy?”

I didn’t think he was serious so I brushed it off until he the next day when he asked how I liked the house again. I exclaimed how beautiful it was and asked how’d he find it, but in all seriousness, he asked again if we should buy. I was dead in my tracks. I couldn’t breathe a word to him. I just blankly stared not knowing what to say. I was like a deer in headlights.

He then started raving about how the house is perfect in his ever so excitable voice, and how the city is right in the middle of his parent’s place and my parent’s place so the drive on both sides wouldn’t be too long and unbearable. He then started saying it’s a good time to go ahead and buy it now if we like it so much and then we can move right in without having newlywed troubles of finding a place to go. And he was convincing me that he knew that as soon as he saw the house, he knew that I would love it because it looks exactly like the ones I used to describe on the top of my head on how the porch looks like, or what color it was, or how big the driveway would be.

Zachery really was a great man, and enthusiastic at that. I felt really guilty but it just wasn’t the right time. Rushing everything made me feel as if everything in my future was already predestined because he was taking full control of everything. I didn’t feel happy but more panicky and full of stress and anxiety. I wasn’t relieved that he was being assertive and actually doing something and planning a life for us. It may sound selfish, but this is our life we would be spending together until we die, why weren’t we doing this together? And why on earth is he suddenly rushing when he promised he could wait? What possibly changed?

I tried to persuade him the best that I could that buying the house now isn’t the smart thing to do. We wouldn’t know if that city is where we would be 2-3 years from now after we graduate. We wouldn’t know if we would be able to find good jobs that we like in that city. We just wouldn’t know of anything that could possibly happen that could deter our futures.

Zachery, of course, didn’t buy any of that. He went on full macho-man-mode and started going off, “If we’re going to get married anyway, why not sooner so we have more time together?” or “Are you having doubts about this marriage?” or my ultimate favorite, “Do you not love me anymore?”

In the end, without my consent, he bought the house. I believe that he still owns the house but whether he still resides there is unbeknownst to me since it has already been years since we broke up and ended all forms of contact. But when we did break up, not even two days later, he resigned from his workplace, gave up on his degree program, packed up and moved into that house.

As much I know how much (or maybe not so since I am not him) pain that I inflicted upon him, it hurt me too, how much I had hurt him and literally broke him. As much as I wanted to be honest and tell him how afraid I was on the rush, or how I wasn’t ready as he was about this kind of commitment, maybe we could have found an understanding, I will never know.

Maybe if we had met later in life, it would’ve been better and not end like this. Maybe if we had fallen in love later, much later — after we became good friends, I wouldn’t have lost him forever. Maybe if I was stronger and not so emotionally weak and tested, maybe if I was wiser and older and knew what was right and wrong and be able to say it — he’d still be my life and not an empty hole from my past.

I blame it on timing. I really do. I’ll be dead honest when I say that I’d be lying if there weren’t drops of insecurities and hairs of commitment-phobias, but the timing wasn’t right for the two of us to make those kinds of great decisions at such a young age. I wouldn’t have been able to even drink a toast to wine on my own wedding for crying out loud if I had fallen through and gotten married earlier than planned. But of course, who knows if I’d have ended up happy with three kids on my lap by now as I write on my blog.

Nonetheless, as much as I cared for and loved Zachery with all my heart, having that ounce of doubt and dodging red flags meant something, and I probably still would have made the same decision if I had to relive that moment again. I’ll be honest when I confess that I believe I won’t meet a man like him ever again. He’s indeed very special.

Just wish that timing would have thought so as well.

Apologue #43: I Sleep with Love Letters

I still have all the love letters that I’ve ever received in my entire life all in a shoe box under my bed. I reread them and sift through them from time to time to remind myself of the different loves that I’ve had in the past. They’re not exactly pick-me-ups on a gloomy day or tokens from the passionate loves I’ve once had to brag about to others. They’ve become parts of my memories and myself, that I would never have the heart to part with them.

Some of them are actually too painful to read again. That’s how much I can still feel them. I can feel the connection that the letter brings from the writer onto me. It’s not just a piece of paper with jumbled up words, and it most certainly isn’t something that only triggers a memory.

As I unfold each crease and read each letter I can feel the writer with each curved word that breathes the life into each sentence. I can still smell the cologne that rubbed off on the pages of letters he once wrote to write to me in a hurry, telling me not to worry and he’ll come back home soon. I can see and touch the crinkles of the dried spots with smudged letters with words I can no longer make out from once was wet tears of his and mine because we could not be together. These letters aren’t mere letters, but they breathe and live the love and youth I once shared with someone that was close to heart.

I still like love letters. I would choose to pick a love letter over anything, even today. E-mails and texting doesn’t do anything for me. I’m a little bit traditional when it comes to sappy love tales and love letters are always going to be key into entering my heart. I don’t know why I find it so endearing, but to feel that sincerity and passion along with the time to write it down, makes it seem all so true.

Apologue #40: That One Time I Got Proposed

This one used to be a painful memory but is now considered a funny memory and a tale all my best friends enjoy hearing. Mind you, I’m not one of those people that go parading around town that I’ve been engaged once before but had to call off the wedding. It’s definitely something that is embarrassing, painful, and downright my business that you don’t have to criticize about. But let’s make it something that could “happen” to any of us gals.

My proposal was far from romantic but hardcore memorable. I will never be able to forget it. To this day, I still wonder why I said yes even though I ended up calling it off. I guess love really does make you blind.

I was about nineteen years old, give or take and was finishing up my freshman year in college. At the time, my boyfriend was in the military and constantly on leave. In the three and a half years that I have dated him, we’ve spent more time apart than we were actually together. Most of our relationship amounts up to instant messaging conversations at odd hours trying to catch each other (when he was stationed both in Iraq and Afghanistan) or e-mail each other as if they were like love letters. Skype hadn’t been invented yet and being able to catch him by phone was out of the question. Our relationship was built on a foundation of trust and respect for one another to have lasted so long.

But I can’t help but be honest that since we’ve had such a distance physically, there are of course, many times where we had awkward moments. This proposal was definitely one of them.

It was the third day since he got back from Iraq and he insisted that he wanted to cook me a nice dinner himself. I could tell he was trying to be romantic but I had no idea what he was planning. Long story short, there were flowers and candles everywhere and he got down on one knee and proposed the classic way I would have liked, like from any movie from the fifties.

The funny thing was the ring. Ladies, I’m not picky when it comes to the ring. Honestly, I hear about those 4 important “C’s” when it comes to picking out your ring and I don’t even know what they are. I’m not even embarrassed to admit it. But you know how people say you “know” when you see the right ring? Boy, ain’t that the truth.

When I saw the ring he got, I was literally speechless. The diamond was hefty. That wasn’t the problem. He personally designed it and had it custom made the way he wanted it (didn’t even know you could that), and it was painfully horrendous. Of course, I didn’t say anything to him directly, but it was definitely a ring I wouldn’t wear in public. Gentleman, as lovely and sincere, of the idea of you personalizing our ring to make it the only ring in the world is romantic, but unless you’re a designer, let’s leave it with the jewelers. I’m not trying to be mean, but really, this is the ring we’ll be wearing on our finger the rest of our lives till we die. It doesn’t have to be a rock, it doesn’t have to be an ice rink where my friends and I can go ice skating in. Let’s keep it normal.

But as fate would put it, the Heavens were on my side that night. The ring, didn’t properly fit. It was a size too small. I had no idea what size my ring finger was, so how could he? He did get awfully close though. When I asked how he did it, this will be the part I am contemplating whether to tell my kids and grand-kids in the future about.

He knew I had chubby fingers and I used to complain to him about it often. So he knew a typical 5 or 6 would just not do, but was still very lost when looking at so many sizes at the jewelers. He had to make a wild guess but didn’t know how to do it. He confessed that the day before the purchase he was at the grocery store and was in the hot dog isle and placed his bet that maybe, JUST MAYBE, this might work.


I screamed with laughter so hard I couldn’t breathe right for four days. To make me feel better, he did say that he ended up going with the skinny hot dogs that fit the length of the whole bun compared to the regular ball park hot dogs. But nonetheless, I will forever be the girl that got proposed with a ring that fits on a hot dog. I’m glad the ring didn’t fit because of the skinny dogs he chose to go with but can you imagine the horror and the endless stories if he chose the ball parks and that ring did fit??

This is exactly why I should never get married. 😀

Apologue #33: Cheaters Always Prosper

This is a story about my ex-boyfriend, Liam. Liam was my boyfriend that I dated on and off for about a year and a half, and a man that I actually asked out, guts and all (check out Apologue #15). Liam was such a gentleman that I couldn’t miss the opportunity of such a fine catch and so did my all in pursuing him. Never in a million years would I have thought that he would be the protagonist of tonight’s tale.

It was Christmas of last year. I had been impatiently waiting on callbacks from my job interviews and had been rampaging around town as a madwoman. I had a feeling that I would be leaving the town I had been residing in and was in high hopes of hearing good news of starting new in an unknown place where no one would know me (I kind of find that mysteriously romantic). With that feeling of leaving town in mind, I had felt bad to Liam, but I wanted to spend my last Christmas with my closest friends.

To explain better, Liam and I had heard wedding bells in the distance and I had figured that he would understand the circumstances considering we would have many more Christmases to come to share together. To me, I felt that this may be the first and last Christmas I would be able to spend with my friends since I’d be moving. Liam, of course, was really upset. We didn’t have anything planned so I thought it would be alright. But Liam was upset nonetheless since Christmastime is all about lovers cuddling by the fire, drinking hot cocoa, and watching holiday classics (he was a gentleman and a romantic!)

I said I was really sorry and that I would make up for it and in the end he said it was alright that I go spend time with my friends for Christmas Eve but Christmas Day, was all his. It was the perfect arrangement. Or so I had thought.

Christmas Eve to me wasn’t even extravagant either with my friends. A friend of mine came over first and we talked and watched, “The Holiday” together while snacking up on candy canes and hot chocolate. We were killing time before we could meet up with his girlfriend that was getting off of work at 11 pm and then going over to the workplace of another friend to exchange gifts and hang out because he was getting off at 11:30 pm. Everywhere else was closed on Christmas Eve, so we just sat in the cold exchanging gifts and just talking until the cold got the best of us. I believe we all respectively got home around 1-ish to call it a night. Absolutely no drinking, no parties, just good quality time with close friends.

Around the same time I was with my friends, my lonesome boyfriend decided to take a stroll of his own to the local supermarket before it would close to stock up on some late night snacks and wine. It was here that he ran into another group of my friends that he’s also good friends with (mutual friends respectively). It was here where he decided to invite them all over to his place to drink the night away. I heard he invited three of our girl friends and two of our guy friends.

They drank and talked till about two in the morning and then all decided to leave for home. It was then, where one of my girl friend’s got really drunk and insisted she didn’t want to go anywhere until she sobered up. Other people from that night have said they could drive her home but she repeatedly insisted she didn’t want to leave her car behind and that she would rather sleep in her car than have someone drop her off. My boyfriend tried to sober her up with water and coffee but she had drunk too much and nothing was working. He said he felt responsible and so insisted he would personally drop her off and thus, left his place with everyone whilst they were all leaving too.

This is where it gets fun. My boyfriend does manage to take her all the way home but my friend refuses to get out of the car. For whatever reason she stated, he listened and then brought her straight back to his place. I still don’t know what their conversation was about but I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore. Anyways, he tried once again to sober her up and then without further ado, decided to just keep her company until she sobers up on her own. Since she wasn’t fit for any conversation, he then laid her down on his bed for her to rest and then was about to head into his living room where he would crash until suddenly she said that she wanted to sleep with him.

Very direct, I know. Without even a second to think of the outcome, they did and she woke up the next morning and told me on Christmas day what had happened and ruined my evening and my holiday. She stated how it was so unlike herself and how guilty she had felt and I genuinely appreciated her honesty. She also told me about how she had secretly had a crush on him for over a year and being friends with him has been very hard on her. And now this. She didn’t know what to do and was asking me for help.

This is where it becomes strange. I’m heartbroken and shocked. But I wasn’t mad at her or upset at her in the least. I could feel her guilt and the pain she had gone through of secretly liking him all this time while I was dating him. I felt how hard it must have been every time she had seen us together and how I talked about him in front of her. I saw signs before but I never acted on them because he was dating me already. I guess I just pushed it away knowing nothing would happen between the two.

Even now when it did happen, I still wasn’t upset at her for what she had done. At least she had the decency to tell me straightaway the very next day. My boyfriend didn’t breathe a word when I met him. After hearing her side of the story and helping her the best way I could, I waited for him to call me for our Christmas dinner plans that I had promised. When he did, he didn’t sound any different, maybe he did but it seemed he was just full of Christmas spirit, nothing dramatically different.

He talked of how he got movies for us to watch all night long, along with a dinner he made himself just for me, and bottles of my favorite moscato to share. I was so cold to him. I was so upset and angry that anger wouldn’t even come out. All I said was that I didn’t want to see him tonight and that I wanted to be alone and he just knew that I had heard everything already. He said he would come right over but I said I wouldn’t dare open the door for him until he was ready to admit everything. I could feel how tense he was on the other side.

We didn’t see each other until three days after the incident. In three days, everything was resolved. To him, me refusing to see him on Christmas was like the severing of the relationship. I guess I would have to agree although we didn’t talk anything through. When I finally met him and we talked, all he said was that he was sorry and how foolish he was. He stated that the alcohol got the best of him which I don’t agree because he’s a strong drinker. Not to mention he was okay enough to drive in the first place and try to help out my friend. To sleep with her was all on him because he made the choice. It’s not like my friend jumped on him, he did out of his own free will. But then, he started saying about how he was going to take responsibility for his actions and be with my friend because there may be chances she could get pregnant since there was no protection involved. He did all the talking and I just sat there.

He never said anything about starting a new relationship with her when he was talking to my friend on what they should do. But he told her he would be by her side and take responsibility of her if anything did happen. She took it knowing whatever they would have together may never last forever. To her, even temporary was enough.

It deeply upsets me when I see these two individually. She — could do much better. Temporary should never be enough, no matter how much you love someone. Knowing a relationship would never last is not going to be blissful. And starting one based off of sex and an affair, will never get you far. He will hurt her someday just like he hurt me.

Him — I want to commend him for his responsibilities from his actions but at the same time, I don’t know how he could be that forward to me in admitting his wrongs and leaving so easily. I will never know if he was unhappy in our relationship or if he had no sexual desires with me. We never got as far as he did with my friend. We had plans of marriage, yes, but did he really love me and cherish me? I will never know.

I still have thoughts wondering if the reason we had never slept together was his act of cherishing me as a woman and waiting until the right time or there was no sexual desire in me as  a woman and thus he never wanted to sleep with me. When we were together, the idea of sex never came up because both of us were never interested in it in the first place. To briefly explain Liam’s character, he’s a nerd that was working on his doctorates with hobbies consisting of painting, photography and cooking. I’m a nerdy gal that does counseling as a living with hobbies of listening and playing music, movie fanaticism and writing. Get the picture?

We’re two nerds in a pod. It took months for us to even get to hold hands! But he suddenly cheats on me by sleeping with one of my best friends? Incredible. I don’t understand how this happened. I feel it’s too out of his personality. Unless I didn’t know him well enough all this time. Imagine what I could have married into . . .

Almost a year has gone by and I’m happy to say that I have not yet run into him or talked to him. But it does still upset me when I think back on what he did to me (and at Christmas of all days!). I love Christmas so much (and that goes beyond the average person, I’m part elf) and he ruined that part of me. It’s only been a year so maybe next year I’ll liven up again, but this year was kept very minimal and not so cheery. Not to forget that this also means they have been dating for almost a year too.

Nothing happened where my friend got pregnant or he cheated on her. They managed to sum up a decent relationship and I hear from time to time, that she is very happy. Good for her, really. But him, seriously? How does he cheat and still manage to get himself a new girlfriend? I will never understand. I’m still alone and miserable just thinking how this all unraveled.

As much as I’m thankful that this happened before we got married, my trust issues and insecurities have drastically heightened just because this came from someone that wasn’t just a boyfriend. My faith in men are squat even though I know better that not all of them are like Liam. It’s just that to find the ones that aren’t, are just that much harder for me now.

Apologue #27: My Best Friend’s Wedding

As I write this post I want to be able to look back and always remember this moment, this thought, this feeling in my life . . .

Today is the second wedding anniversary of my best friend (my previous apologue was the MOH speech I gave at her wedding). And as I reminisce back to their wedding, I have too many emotions that I don’t want to forget that I feel I must write it all down.

I pretty much cried the whole night at my best friend’s wedding. It wasn’t because I was jealous, envious, or sad that I’m losing her. It was more of happiness, hope, and true love that they shared that got me so overwhelmed and sentimental.

These feelings didn’t hit me at all the night of the rehearsal dinner, or the morning of when we were doing our hair and make-up, not even when we got to the church before the ceremony.

It didn’t even hit me once while I was walking down the aisle to my designated spot (maybe because I had to concentrate on my smiling). It hit me, when the doors of the sanctuary opened wide and she was walking down the aisle to me. THAT was when everything hit me to the pit of my stomach and then it felt like my heart was going to burst because I couldn’t get in enough air. Is this what happens when you hyperventilate? I don’t know what it was but it hit me from my gut to my heart and went straight to my eyes because that’s when the tears just started to flow.

It was ridiculous because I was trying to smile at her. But my stupid tears got in the way and I couldn’t focus on her properly and I wanted nothing more but to remember this moment forever. It was an odd sort of feeling that I can’t describe into words. I’ve seen her in her dress millions of times. I was there with her at the shop, I was there when she tried it on, I was there for her bridal portraits and I was there for every moment and every detail when it came to fulfilling my duties as her Maid of Honor. But all those moments must not have registered in my mind because she’s coming down the aisle with the dress I saw on her with the same hair and make-up and smile and the real deal doesn’t cut close to all those other moments. And I knew the minute we locked eyes, that it hit her too because as she was coming closer and closer, there were tears in her eyes and she was mouthing to me and panicking, “OMIGOSH, help me to stop crying!” I can’t help but laugh at this moment. I just smiled at her and mouthed back that it’s all okay and that she still looks beautiful.

I got teary again once we all got up on the altar and she was exchanging her vows. And got teary once again, when she was finally announced a married lady. These really were tears of joy and happiness and they wouldn’t stop pouring.

But it’s alright, because it wasn’t only me that was getting emotional. I saw both the mothers and fathers of the groom and bride get teary too. As well as sisters and brothers, friends and other family members too. This couple really had much blessings from high above.

Everyone was fine again until we moved to the reception and it was the first dance of the newlyweds and everyone welled up again. Bridesmaids were looking at each other and screaming (mouthing) that we should all stop crying. We just couldn’t help it as they were dancing to their song and the groom was singing the lyrics to the bride as they were dancing and I swear, at that moment, even my own heart skipped a beat.

“Butterfly Kisses” was played for the Father and Daughter dance and it was no surprise the waterworks were spewing everywhere across the room. The father (took it like a man) and showed his own tears in front of his daughter and it was a beautiful moment where everyone watched with bated breath.

Thankfully, when it was the groom’s turn for his dance with his mother, the mood was quickly changed and everyone was delighted and followed suit with rosed spirits and the party became more lively. Everyone had such a splendid time dancing the night away until we were all rushed out the doors to send off the lovely couple in their sparkler runway to hit the road towards their honeymoon. As I was waving my sparkler, the bride turned back and waved her hand and when she found me in the crowd, smiled and said, “I love you” and then was off into the night.

Is it always this emotional at best friend’s weddings? My goodness, I’ve NEVER cried at weddings before and this was definitely the first that I had such unstoppable waterworks. I don’t know if I have the heart to continue for all my other best friends. Sorry, folks!

I feel I need a good couple of years to recover. But in all honestly, it couldn’t have been more perfect and it was indeed, a glorious night. It’s been two years exactly and I still can feel all the moments as if it happened earlier today. Just thinking about it, makes me absolutely teary all over again  . . .

Apologue #26: My MOH Speech

I made this particular MOH speech for my best friend about two years ago at her wedding. It was my first speech as a MOH and I feel that I did a good job weaving in our story as I was also blessing the couple. I had this written down on paper for the longest time and now it’s all crumpled and hard to read from wear and tear, folding and unfolding repeatedly. Before I can no longer read what I wrote or remember what I said, my blog can be the perfect place to write it down so I can always remember.

The couple’s two year anniversary is actually coming up and I also got to spend some time with them over the Thanksgiving holidays, which brought me back to the moment of their wedding and what they both mean to me. Seeing them happy together is the best any friend can wish for and so, I’m happy to share this moment in word.

“I have known Nicole for eighteen years . . . eighteen years and still counting! And over those eighteen years, never would I have thought, that we would be this close and to have come so far in our journey together. We have been in each other’s lives for as long as I can remember. We have been through thick and thin, good times and the bad, sympathy and sorrow, laughter and the love.

From scraping our knees at the jungle gym and all the way to first boyfriends, broken hearts, sadness and regrets; we have fought through them all and stayed strong with each other. Even when we were no longer in the same place, our friendship and our bond of love that we have for one another is so strong that no matter what, we were able to maintain our friendship and keep that bond from ever severing.

My friendship with her is truly one of the most cherish-able and treasured assets that I have in my life, and I say this now in hopes that if she didn’t know, she knows it now . . .

Nicole, you have always been my friend, my sister, and my person.

Now, Bill, I have only known for a short period of time . . . I’d say about two and a half years going on to three years.

Surprisingly, I have never told Nicole about this because I knew that one day, this day would come where I would get a chance to confess of how I had already known that Bill was the perfect person for her.

To be honest, I knew it the very first day that I had met Bill . . .  We had just finished a game of Scrabble (it’s Nicole’s and my favorite board game) and Nicole had just left the room. It was right then when Bill turned to me and said these words that I could never ever forget . . .

He said to me, ‘Love. Thank you so much for being Nicole’s friend. Thank you for caring for her and loving her, long before I came along. I just wanted you to know how thankful I am.’

And those words hit me strong and hard; that he was truly the one person that God has blessed my friend to be with forever and I just knew instantly, that I couldn’t be wrong.

Bill, now it’s my turn to thank you for loving and caring for my sweet girl. I know deeply in my heart that you love her very much and I can truly see how happy she is for you being a great part in her life.

Everywhere that I look and from everyone that I meet, I can tell how this couple is truly blessed. Everyone genuinely loves this couple and I can see great things in toll for the future of these two people and I know, that God will bless them with much grace and love.

I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, than to be here today, to bless these two and to see them embark on a wonderful new journey together as one under God.

Ladies and Gentlemen, as we lift our glasses, cheers to the happy couple! I love you both!”

— My Maid of Honor Speech to the Happy Couple on December 3, 2011

Apologue #23: Sick Days

I generally try to keep a “healthy as a horse” physique but today was just an unbearably painful day where I actually had to leave work after just a mere hour and found myself sleeping for half the day in the soft, warm comfort that is not a boyfriend’s arms but my beautiful queen-sized bed. I’ve been having these excruciating lower back pains for the past two days and I’m upset at the fact that I have no idea why I would have these problems in the first place. It’s not like I’m an Olympic figure rink skater or I do heavy lifting to dumbbells, so this is just going to pass as one of those mysteries that happens in the story of my life.

After my three hour slumber of blissful sleep and reading in bed, a small memory crept up on me that I had missed dearly. You see, I’m not the sickly type but I always do manage myself to get into a big mess of a flu every winter. I would always get sick right before winter finals in college and had such rough days pulling all-nighters and managing to score well on my exams. I usually like to be alone but I had a boyfriend in my younger days that would never, and I mean NEVER, leave me alone when I was even the teeniest bit sick.

He an only child with both parents always working so he grew up managing sick days by himself since he could remember, and so, he feels that when one’s sick, you should always have company because no one intentionally wants to be “alone” because that’s when you’re the most miserable and loneliest (plus you may need help getting more tissues).

He was the type that would cook me not chicken noodle soup but porridge from scratch. I don’t know many people that can actually do that; let alone, men. He made a mean cinnamon rice porridge and it was worth getting sick just to have a spoonful of it. After feeding me porridge and making sure I took all my medication, sometimes he would read me Harry Potter (and I am OBSESSED with Harry Potter) as I fall asleep. Other times he used to tell me stories about Roman mythologies. He was quite a storyteller. I read Edith Hamilton’s Mythology twice and so I fairly enjoy hearing anything about them. I don’t know how many times he’s read it but he was able to pretty much reenact the story to life; his versions of these tales were priceless.

So, sitting in bed and reading my book by myself, it made me realize just how right he was. Being alone when you’re sick really is miserable and you crave not attention but good company. It surely isn’t him that I miss but his stories and his effort in trying to make me feel better that I dearly miss and wish I had today.

I guess it’s fair time that I should find my own recipe for cinnamon rice porridge as I get back to my Mythology.