It should be me, that should be me

I’ve done everything I can to convince myself that this isn’t the universe where we end up together. Tried to rest content with the idea that in another universe, we were together.

But like the other failed times, I’m here again. Crying. Crying at every realization that I wanted, badly wanted that to be this universe. 

Why can’t it be? Why can’t it be in this world?

Cmd-Z denied

Maybe I will always wonder how easy it was for others to fake enthusiasm, to pretend they like each other, to act like they don’t have anything against the other, or anything similar to that.

I will always wonder how they sleep at night knowing they aren’t being honest to themselves.

Or maybe I’m the derogatory one, because I don’t have it in me to give them a chance. I cannot pretend to like people when I have something against them. I really can’t.

And to think pretending is my specialty, how ironic

In any case, looking at them disgusts me. It’s fake. Pictures speak a thousand words and most of them were lies. The hug, the apologies, the pictures, acts of “reconciliation”–-–those were simply act of courteousness. Just a formality. Because it’s unbecoming of a leader or a president to end a public outcry low key; there needs to be a resolution, a resolve, or an act of patching things up.

That was simply damage control.

Because the truth is, there’s no going back once trust is broken.

You already shattered it into minuscule fragments

You cannot go back

You cannot

By then, I hope

Prompt: Maine’s latest blog post entitled “Blues”

Even if you’re happy now… at one point the bad things will hit you up again.

The wheel would start spinning, and you’ll have to deal with the same crap you’ve been through over and over. It’s a cycle, it has been distastefully familiar. You knew it’s inevitable.

But that’s okay. Because by then, you have learned to value every waking moment; by then, you have learned that the goal is not happiness, but strength, fortitude, and wisdom to understand that there will always be pain, and you can turn that into something beautiful.

Because by then, I’m sure, he will be there for you. And that will be enough.

I hope he will be enough. 

Forewarning

Prompt: I trusted you, okay. I fucking trusted you and you were beating her all this time. You were fucking beating her.

Hey, do you have a dream? Do you have something you want to do when you grow up?

I had a lot of dreams when I was little. I wanted to be an animator, a writer, a doctor, a civil engineer, a lawyer, a band vocalist, a journalist; I wanted to be a lot of people for a lot of people. But when I entered high school, those dreams vanished. Whenever people ask me about my life ambitions, the only thing I tell them is that I want to have a family. I wanted to get married at 18, and be a mother at 22. I wanted to be a young mom so I don’t look way too old for my child.

I know, haha, it was a childish and stupid dream. And I think it was that same time I lost sight of the goal, suppose that I had any.

My friends invited me to enroll for a review center during summer vacation after my junior year in high school. I didn’t know what the fuss is with going to a review center that time, but I tagged along anyway. I knew then that it was some sort of review for college entrance exams. I was surprised. I thought that after high school, I could just go to a college I want and study. I didn’t know I had to take entrance exams. It was a silly thing to admit, especially being the only top student in the gang. I didn’t even know anything about UP then. I didn’t know UPCAT. Heck, I didn’t know what to do after high school—I didn’t have a damn direction. The only thing I remember is that Mom wants me to pursue medicine, while my grandparents are pressing me to take up law.

I wasn’t interested even after knowing all about it actually, but I was scared because they were all so worked up. And I’m not. That should be scary, right? Anyway, ironically I was the only one who passed UP.

A lot of things had happened in this household. I reckoned somehow you understood my resentment towards that asshole of a boyfriend of my eldest sister? He was hurting her physically. The only time I knew about it was when I was in 3rd year high school. She went home crying, her eyes swelling, her left cheekbone internally bleeding. Her cheekbone. Is fucking. Bleeding. Internally.

I was horrified. I easvesdropped while she was talking to my second eldest sister, and I found out that that bastard socked her when they had a fight. Left her in MOA (which was fucking miles away from home) and took her bag with him.

I was so angry. So angry. It was an understatement. I wanted to kill him.

Upon entering college, I still didn’t know who and what I was supposed to be. I didn’t have a direction. Until bad news kept coming in the house. Mom was scammed, that bastard cheated on her again, our house was robbed. I lost two cellphones in two fucking weeks, and I lost my wallet with my ATM in it. I was young, and those things happened simultaneously for the first time in my first year in college. It was a horrible life, I thought.

Series of unpleasant events came my way, and when I became a junior in college—or nope, actually, after turning nineteen, things changed for me. Long long long story, but anyway, I have a goal now. I want to be a lawyer. For real this time. And I suppose you understand how so a bit, after everything we’ve been through.

I love art and music more than anything. But there are far greater things I believe I could do while keeping those interests intact—I needed to protect my family. And I thought, maybe being a lawyer will do it. Surely, it should do it. There are a lot of things I could do when I become one, I thought. There are a lot of things I need and want to do for them. That’s the only thing I could think of now. I need to protect them. I want to protect them.

Sorry, that was all random, wasn’t it? I forgot to tell you why for another simple reason: I wanted to get rid of that asshole. For 8 fucking years (comprehend that mother of zeus), my sister stayed with him. Jesus Christ. That’s stupidity on a whole new level. I gave him three fucking chances for the three fucking times he cheated. Three, f u c k i n g, times. He was just using my sister, anyone could tell, or maybe at least people allergic to bullshit could.

He needs to pay for everything he did. He ruined her life; she let him; and everything she did from then on ruined our family in so many ways. God knows how much I hate her too. But I thought, maybe if he’s gone, we’ll have a chance.

Of course, you know I can’t kill him. I won’t; that’s too easy. I’m going to ruin his life. I’ll take everything away from him and ruin the lives of the people he valued. I’ll destroy everything until he pleads to be killed. Or better, until he kills himself. Tragic, no?

That’s why I’m thankful that you were a good guy to my sister. I don’t hate you for getting her pregnant, don’t worry. I would choose you over every talented guy out there who’d do the same thing that piece of shit did. You were nice, polite, and honest. I hope you don’t change that part of you.

But if I find out you were doing the same now, I’d add you to the list of lives I’ll ruin.

Don’t forget.

Dont

fucking

forget.