glassy eyes

The last time I saw this reflection in front of the mirror was two years ago. The glassy, sad, empty eyes. It was a look that rattled me, a reminder every time I look in front of the mirror of what I was feeling, of what was going on inside my head, of how my heart was empty. My mask could hide the blemishes of my life from afar but if one will take the time to look at me closely, the eyes could not deny what I was going through. People will say you look generally happy but your eyes, your eyes shows your heart. 

I never thought I’ll see that face again.

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all i have are questions

I was trying to write questions of why’s, how’s, and whatnot’s on why people still choose love when it didn’t work out in the past when suddenly the truth hit me that maybe what I needed is to love myself first, again. Had I not told myself that phrase a thousand times? Have I not tried? Am I really being hard on myself?

Can I love without expectation? Without demanding someone of their time? Should I let myself feel okay or dimiss whatever I am feeling when the other person wants you only to call when they have time? When they are free? Am I just a go to person when it’s convenient?

I know there is a difference between finding time from having time and making time. I make time. Don’t I deserve the same? Should I content myself with when they have time? Is it right to ask these questions? Am in the wrong for asking them that? For their undivided attention on a certain time of the day? Am I being too demanding?

For once I just want to feel important, is that too much to ask? I am not asking them to revolve their world around me because that’s a serious bullshit. I am only asking for time, not when they have the time, when they can find the time, but to make the time. I honestly feel pathetic reading what I wrote. It feels like I am begging, for an hour of their day, a text, a reply, an email, a chat, to say hi or I’m on my way, or just take care or have a nice day. It feels like, really, I am begging for attention, for care, for love–and that feels like crap.

I’ll ask again, am I wrong to feel this way? Maybe, I am the one who has a problem? Am I asking for too much? Oh my, this is tiring. Asking questions without getting answers is tiring but all I have now are those, questions I don’t know if I’ll ever get the answers to. It brings me back to the classic saying, “kung gusto maraming paraan, kung ayaw maraming dahilan.” And that doubles the crappiness I feel right now, for real. Face palm.

-wl, a.

P.S. Sometimes I really hate travelling for hours. It makes you think of a lot things you would normally not think about.

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life doesn’t start when heartaches end

you wade through it
even if it hurt
you move on
you wake up every day
go through the motions each day
you eat
laugh with friends
cry in the corner
and then laugh some more
no matter how crappy you feel
or how crazy you think
you are alive
you might think it doesn’t seem much
but you’re still breathing
you have a life
just with a broken heart
it feels different
like something is missing
like there is a gaping hole where your heart once was
but deep inside you know it’s an excuse
because even if you don’t accept it now
at the end of the day
you know that life
doesn’t start when heartaches end
it just goes on