A Year To Myself

February last year, I became single after ending an 11-month long relationship, which was beautiful enough to last for a time but not forever. And funnily as if there wasn’t any better time, on that perfect lovely day when exclusively (or not) dating young men and ladies, boyfriends and girlfriends, engaged and married couples, and all other kinds of lovers were celebrating their love – February 14, 2013 – I declared to all my systems from my split ends to the callouses on my toes that at least for one year, I will have no other lover than myself. That was a deal.

And I made it to a year all to myself.

During little gatherings with friends or side chats with officemates, a usual question would make its way to the conversation, “Don’t you miss dating someone?” Damn it, of course I do. I miss that feeling, you know what I’m talking about.

But the question, though tempting and strongly suggestive, also appeared to challenge me as to how far I can go with the deal. And I’m glad I managed to keep myself at pace.

Through this period, albeit relatively short, I believe I’ve come to understand a lot about loving myself and the lessons keep coming.

1. Love yourself and love it more each and every day. Because it is wise to realize that if in case no one else will be there to love you, you have your very own self who will never leave you come what may.

2. Those who leave are not meant to stay. So please don’t allot an eternity to mourn over a breakup. You don’t have forever to fool around a drama not worth crying for. Always be ready to get your shit together and love again, with a little bit more caution than before.

3. If you love yourself, you become a sturdy foundation of a lasting relationship. Otherwise, your lack of confidence, trust, and respect for yourself might even cause your partner to question him/herself how s/he did even come to like you.

I know it sounds like I recommend staying single. Well, up to you. We all have our own preferences in life. Go figure it out. 😉

Love,
Ayna

A Year To Myself

2014: Project PLUS LOVE

While the new year was just about to take over, I swear I tried hard to formulate at least one resolution I could fool myself with round 2014. Surprisingly, I came up with…well, none. Indecisive at the time, or was I convinced and simply satisfied with my justified imperfection that I didn’t ponder on some things to change in my life, my self. Bad thing, definitely.

Cut short, just yesterday, I pulled off one broad idea, something yeahbsolutely beautiful for my 2014: Project PLUS LOVE. Uhh, it’s no serious campaign. Just some sort of emotional therapy for me, which the whole universe could use, I believe.

Allow me a very quick overview of Project PLUS LOVE. Nothing formal, promise. 🙂

Vision: A more loving me
Goals: To lessen hating by 50% come June, and will have mastered forgiving by the end of the year
Priority: Grow reasons for loving, calm the hate
Expected output: Everything better

Sounds possible, yeah? But true enough, things aren’t as easy as they seem. This will surely be a daily battle against myself, overcoming impatience, knocking out indifference, brushing off hate, accepting differences, learning to trust the uncertain, so on and on. Guess I’d be walking and talking myself through this project with some little prayers every day, every now and then. Not bad. Not bad. 🙂

Just a little bit more though. I’ll be doing some “sharing of words and thoughts” in Project PLUS LOVE, and I just came up with one activity: Fri-ed Love as in Friday Edition Love! Every Friday, I’ll post a thought worth sharing for my friends to ponder on over their weekends. Caution though, some may not necessarily make sense. 😀

That’s it for now. Happy new year, people! May we all have another year of love and bliss.

Love,
Ayna

2014: Project PLUS LOVE

A Love Long Overdue

I lost my best friend to the decision we made long past – to gamble such a one of a kind friendship for a love we thought we could survive. We made a pretty long run for it, and all seven years of giving up and fighting for it again, gone now and not a piece of that past seems repairable. Like every broken piece could only hurt.

I am uncertain as to what point I have for writing this. What’s undeniable though is that I miss my best friend [badly] and it hurts to realize that time, and perhaps all of the universe, has buried our friendship that was witness to a very lovely story in the past. I wish we could talk again the way we did, without inhibitions, just frank, but with hugs kept ready in case one had to cry or lose temper.

It’s safe to say that I was everything to my best friend and I liked it, only that I had most of my decisions shadowed by fears, hesitations, and my unacceptance of the reality I was faced with. I lost grip, gave up, and left my best friend fighting alone for nothing. I loved my best friend but this was often tainted with my doubts about the future, our future. I used to imagine it but each time I did, I would end up losing engine at a crossroad; from there I would stop. I chose to.

Now, what more could I ask for my best friend than the happiness deserved. I didn’t stand for what my best friend was fighting for. So maybe this time I could do good in wishing well.

I hope you are happy now. If we meet again one day, you might never hear the same words I used to say. You just have to remember that I loved you in some special way.

A Love Long Overdue

The Song of the Last Tear

Stay there, play the guitar

I’ll sit here, listening from afar

Tickle the strings while I fix my wings

Play your music, the curse to our broken rings.

Sit there, play the piano

I’ll hear it and I’ll tell you, “Bravo”

My heart will bleed, blood coming out clear

Look away, I’ll now embrace to death my fear.

But if you see it, please don’t ask

Believe you only see a very sad mask

My pain is not yours anymore

Worry not, I’ll find a cure to what you tore.

Tomorrow, I will wake up and smile

At the love we shared for long but seemed just a while

Tomorrow, I’ll seek answers, please don’t care

Else you’ll see the pain in me, just beware.

And I’m telling you it’s not for you to see

This pain, this nightmare haunting me

So strum the guitar, play the piano

Close your eyes, my dear musico.

Play the music that broke my heart

Close those eyes I used to see as art

Take our memories with you or leave them somewhere

And now, I’ll close my eyes to free this last tear.

The Song of the Last Tear

Love is strange. The man I was happiest with was…”stranger”.

Now all I can do is smile in disbelief; a smirk onto a feeling I’ve got to figure what exactly.

Good Lord, how on earth can love be so nonsense? And in that sense, it’s just got interesting.

Need no beer, need no smoke, it’s all clear; I got myself into loving a stranger for a damn good year. “Somebody that I used to know” – a song whose singer I can’t recall and I’d rather type what I’m saying now than “google” it – is in my playlist. People, I feel for these lines:

“But you didn’t have to cut me off

Make it like it never happened, and that we were nothing…

Now you’re just somebody that I used to know.”

And only to realize and ask, “Was he really somebody that I used to know?” It’s striking, annoying, maddening, frustrating, and pretty interesting.

An exaggerated comparison but please let me, for the sake of honesty and liberty. One year felt like a one-night stand with a stranger. It was there, it was good, and then it’s gone, so what now?

Nothing, just nothing. After all, the end simply justified the mean. We started as strangers at a table with cups of coffee and tea. Love isn’t so strange then. Now, we’re back to being strangers, like we’ve always been.

Love is strange. The man I was happiest with was…”stranger”.

Written For Nothing

My dearest,

I woke up from a dream that I wouldn’t want to end; to thoughts of you just so wonderful, to a story hand-written by God. This must be a lovely day – one to celebrate in the name of this love we discovered a year ago.

The situation wasn’t easy, but the decision was; and in fact, I never had to make it. I only needed to say it so you’d know. It came as a surprise for you because you never thought that one hellish busy day could end up with the green light switching on to begin all that’s simply beautiful. I chose 8 simply for what the world has always known: 8 being the symbol of infinity or forever. And then it happened to be the number between my favorite 7, and yours, 9. Right, laugh now!

Forever. The word alone, what sense could it make? It’s the broken promise, the sweetest lie, and the fairy tale no one should believe in. But on that night, I believed in forever like I’ve always believed in every “happily ever after”, because on that night, forever, in your voice, sounded like every true story told, every love story to unfold.

I thank God for entrusting us this love, from which we learn to understand things beyond our own understanding. I’m more than happy to go through all this with you, because quite honestly, there’s no place like in your arms; that I wouldn’t have to worry about the danger because I’m safest there. Laugh and I’ll kill you!

You told me you couldn’t promise forever. Who knows what could happen next, right? I felt sad at that, but then again, I believed in forever…more than ever…when you promised to do your best to make this last forever. That was daring, touching, not a fairy tale at all. I felt my blood at that, and somehow the fear of a challenge proposed by no young love. But right that moment as well, I thanked the universe for the conspiracy it had planned for all that to happen in a time and place so serene.

Love, it’s been an amazing year, what more could I ask for? There is, indeed. May God hear me now that I pray for one more year for us, two, three, four, forever. Would that be too much, my Lord? Well, I hope not, because if God would let me choose one story to keep, I’d choose this, and I’m choosing this now, lifting it up to Him, so He could write on about us, about a fairy tale blessed to come true.

I’ve got so much more to tell, but I’m gonna have to start prepping up for a dinner date. So stamp  this now with a kiss, take a shower, blah blah blah and then put on your favorite shoes, because we’re gonna have a good walk on this damn good night. Don’t forget the keys, and catch you in a few for some cheers to our first.

All my love, M

A letter, which could’ve been written in messy handwriting, on paper pasted at the back of a painted canvass; one you could’ve been holding right now had there been something to celebrate today and until now.

Written For Nothing

Yes, I Regret My Mistake

Sure, there’s a sensical point in not having to mourn over and regret the mistakes we’ve made, the intentional ones especially. But whatever the point is, it kind of bothers me. Do we really NOT have to regret them?

I don’t know. Only that I’ve come to realize that it’s somehow scary to not regret your mistakes at all. It’s like you never fear them – not even for once – nor the possibility of committing them again.

I understand, we don’t want to regret the bad days that accounted for the lessons we had to learn from our pasts. It would seem like brushing off the morals we’ve gained from the shame and the blame. Or like cursing the selves we’ve become after pulling it through the acceptance of our mishaps and misdeeds.

But personally, I’d rather regret my mistakes. Not immediately; perhaps just after every one of them has pressed its sensical point into me.

And perhaps, that’s what we’ve been meaning to say: we don’t regret our mistakes for what we learned from them. “Experience is the best teacher,” they say. But if we come to the point where we’d decide not to do the same mistakes, we must have regretted them and have learned to fear them, that we wouldn’t want anything to do with those mistakes again.

We do curse our mistakes and we even fear them, I believe so. Only that we don’t have to regret them right at the start because we have to squeeze out the lessons first. But again, eventually, we will have to regret them because we have to fear them, because we don’t want to do them again.

No biggie! This is just how I feel about my biggest mistake, and I think I just got the hang of regretting it. 😉

Yes, I Regret My Mistake