Thank you, Facebook.

I set the alarm at 4:30am tomorrow and decided that I’m going to sleep early today but my brain can’t seem to shut down—vividly rewinding all the events of this day, contemplating about the things I’m supposed to do tomorrow, carefully calculating the targets I have to hit, worried about the book I have to finish, counting the clients I have to call and thinking about our good old memories—I have more to add but you don’t care anyway so I wouldn’t jot them all down no more. My point is, I feel so restless for the hectic list of to-do’s that keep on flashing in my head it’s making me so anxious because I just f—ckn wanna go to sleep but I caaaaannn’t, UGH!!! Have you ever felt this way too? I reckon you do. So what do you normally do when you can’t sleep?


Hmm. No. This ain’t right.

He cheated on me, I should stop stalking him.

Yes. It’s been three weeks since.

I couldn’t focus because of this urge again. To view his profile. To stare endlessly at his solo photos and them ones with her. To crush my heart with my own hands. To kill my soul with the growing jealousy in me. It has grown so much it agonises my poor self. But i loved it—the torture I bestowed upon myself like an honor of excellence awarded to me. I get so damn hurt but at least I get to see him, you know? It’s a rewarding torture after all.

I picked up the laptop lying on top my bedside table and pursued the calling to open Facebook. So I logged in. In two seconds the news feed blatantly presented his newly posted picture two hours ago. Wow, facebook! You didn’t even give me a chance to hesitate to type his name on the search box!


I felt a sudden pinch in my heart it kinda burns. I stared at the photo he posted for like a minute, with the caption that says: “With my gorgeous princess.” 

Wow. He used to call me his princess back then. Ha ha! He didn’t even bother changing it! Brilliant! Then, I clicked on the comments below and a lot of people are congratulating them—telling them the they-look-good-together lie, and there’s this one girl by the name of Jane Lee who left a comment that I even had to zoom in to ascertain the exact words my eyes had just read…

“He used to call me his princess too, don’t fall on that trap.” 

I’m like WTFFFFFF!!!!!

I don’t know what to feel. Each word from that random comment stunned me it goes deep within my veins, my blood couldn’t even flow anymore—I think it’s stopped. My heart is now beatless, lifeless. He didn’t just cheat on me alone, he cheated on me and Jane and even on that foolish girl on the picture he just posted. What an a*shole!!!!

I couldn’t contain the unidentified emotion I am feeling right now so I slammed the laptop close and zoned out for like two minutes with my mouth open and my eyes that suddenly forgot to blink.

The love I thought I still have for him instantly vanished like a bubble. This unidentified peculiar kind of emotion replaced the crazy kind of love I initially had for him. It’s that inexplicably odd feeling that makes you numb from the weird mix of love and hatred and anger and regret that is at some point a sense of freedom. I am now free from the trap, from his trap.

I smiled nonchalantly like some sort of an invisible thorn was taken away from my flesh. It’s still bleeding but it feels lighter. There’s a visible wound, but it’s going to heal soon, I am sure of that.

If not with the urge to stalk him again through Facebook, I wouldn’t be utterly awaken from this nightmare. If there’s one thing I learned from this experience tonight, it is the idea of spoiling yourself, albeit knowing it’s bad for you and expecting a certain punishment that will add up to your list of experiences from which you learn from—hence you grow and become wiser. This moral lesson (lol) abruptly just cleared my head, released all them worries free, thus now I think I’m ready for a goodnight sleep.


(Photo credit to the owner)

Prisoner of a faulty love

I enjoy staring at you when you’re oblivious of my presence. It’s but a chance for me to study your face, to memorize each move, to hear the voices within you—they keep on telling me to leave you, but I used to ignore all of them.

And then you’d catch me staring—hence you’d give me that wonted nonchalant smile, the kind that is inexplicably bizarre to me. A kind of smile I couldn’t correctly decode, a kind of smile I succumbed into, when it first showed up, in that park where I met you.

I enjoy looking at you despite the fact that you wouldn’t do it to me the way i do. I stare at you as if I won’t see you again—’cause I know mornings with you is vague and uncertain.

Then last night you said, I can’t leave her. I shouted at you, cussed you, hurt you. But you put an end to the war I created, using the same line you just said in the beginning of it—I can’t leave her.

Why can’t you?

I asked this to you, but no words came out of me. This query seemed so heavy, my strength is not enough to say them clearly. It’s outright lucid to me, that I am that girl you would go to, just when you’re feeling blue.

But today something’s telling me how wrong this is.

I know…

I am that girl who patiently waits for you but it’s getting tedious.

I am that girl who listens to you when no one else could, but now it’s suffocating.

I am that girl who loves you despite your blemishes, but now it’s making me sick.

I whined for the things you should have done, I craved for the words you should have said. I kept on believing there could be a change. But there’s none, guess I was insane.

I was insane—for I hoped one day you look at me the way I look at you. But now that I’m staring at you, your body seemed to be telling me that there’s no way you would ever do.

I wished that maybe one day you’ll make me first. But your heart seemed to be telling me—I only fit to number two.

Been looking at you for almost an hour now and you’re sleeping like a baby–you’re fully incognizant of what’s going on my mind, of my plan to escape.

Been couple of years since you jailed me in this house, it’s shaky already, it’s no longer enough for me.

I thought to myself, it’s time to leave, ’cause I have to live.

To live normally, to love conventionally, to find someone else who could make me his top priority.

I silently opened the drawer, picked up that old sepia colored piece of paper, wrote a five word message that said, “I deserve better than this.”

I put the note in our bed, at the side I usually slept in whenever he’s here.

I hurriedly packed my things, with no more thinking, no more hesitating.

I went to the door carrying a heart that’s crushing, trying to stop the tears from bursting, persuading my whole being to never look back again.

Before I could manage to close the door, before I reward myself of such freedom, I looked at him one last time.

In my head, I thanked him. I wouldn’t be able to know my worth if I didn’t let it melt with his hands, if I didn’t give my all to him.

I lost myself in the bed of this wrong love. I lost everything and that’s when I figured it’s time to flee.

Just like realizing one’s importance, not by its presence, but by the mere absence of it.