Saturday, February 5, 2011

Exes, Wives and Brats

I just realized that the happiness I saw Mark will have with his family, the future I saw that will happen or could happen will lapse in March. It would be the only tarot reading of mine that would not happen. And because I have stopped doing that for my own sake, I may never know what the future would hold for him. But who the fuck cares? I have my own future to think about. One where a man would be and I would be. A future where we would be happy.

So he can do whatever he wants. 
I have the rest of my life to be happy. 

He's just my friend now. I don't need to worry too much that he would fuck up his life. Although most of my friends tend to do some pretty bold things lately like get married. Or some pretty cowardly things like fear a life that is actually able to make them happy. 

I think the universe is trying to send me a signal, or perhaps people are just lonelier during February that they add people on social networks even though it's obvious that their profile picture is a figment of someone's photoshopped imagination. 

Or perhaps they are too afraid that the love that they had and the trust that they have given is being trampled on and given away by the very person they love and trust just because he is lonely. 

But I always wonder, why is it me that gets to babysit them through their fears? Is it because I am finally, gradually letting go of those fears? Is it because I now want to be one of those who take the leap? 

I am getting mixed signals from higher powers here. They crush all my hopes then free me to love again. Then I learn that the past isn't all that good after all. That I was blind to so many things that I forgot to remember that life isn't a novel that I can edit. Where the dialogue isn't meant to be as romantic or where declarations of love aren't all what they seem. 

I guess editing BBBS so close to Valentine's Day is an excellent boot of procrastination. It gave me something lovely to do during vacation. Though it might have killed half of my brain cells in less time than college ever did, I would be happy if the four e-books I have finished so far can make someone smile or laugh or even cry. I need to finish the rest. God help me.  

Like Capey's mom said, some love stories are short stories but that doesn't make them any less awesome or important. I am just going to sit back and wait for my co-writer. If my life isn't meant to be a romantic novel, then I would make sure it's a riveting memoir nonetheless. 

So as for those who are afraid to love, face love or give love, I pity you. Because your life isn't going to be as adventurous or as funny to look back to as mine. Sometimes the bad because the good parts too. 

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