part of me

A part of me is glad that A* and I are still friends, like before or perhaps even better. I would like to think that we’ve gotten passed everything that could have prevented us from returning to the comfort of an honest friendship. When I saw him the other day, I was glad that he treated me exactly as I wanted him to, which is as he would with his wacky little friend. But that doesn’t mean that my feelings for him have changed overnight, far from it. I’m appreciating the fact that this is one relationship I’m sure will last, unlike most of my previous engagements when feelings and ego collide.

I’m sick and tired of loosing a good friend because of my stupid emotional investments on them that went wrong. I’ve always been bad at mending relationships post-breakups. I just don’t know how. It’s like sever all ties and hope to God things would be alright for poor little me. I would forgive but I wouldn’t forget, ever. It’s better to move on without any guilt and regret. And even though my past would occasionally cross my path I would just say hi and turn the other way. I know I’m the sore loser on this, but I just can’t bring myself to do more.

So when something all too familiar is happening all over again, I looked back and see how I had screwed up what could have been enduring friendships. Misunderstandings and mixed ups that could have been cleared up if I was a little more patient and empathetic. More importantly, one trait that seems to stick out in all of my broken relationships was this, when the particular guy comes and I feel that we connect, I would be eager to establish some kind of a special bond with him. I took this for the possibility of the real thing. And when I realized that it wasn’t, I panicked and it would all self-destruct. And the rest was history.

If I didn’t get my feelings mixed up in the first place, I would have more real friends now that I can always count on for support. If I wasn’t too complex, I would not have gotten my heart broken through many false hopes and disappointments. If I wasn’t that superficial, I might not turn out to be as I am now. If I was that lucky, I might not be writing these thoughts down.

No regrets.

The past was filled with mistakes and bad choices. I’m glad that A* turned out to be a blessing after all. Between repeating the past and his friendship, it’s a breeze to choose. A part of me is glad that I’m able to say that this is what I really need. Unfortunately, the other part still doubts whether I would be satisfied with not having what I really want.

Well, who says it’s going to be easy anyway?

Mummy used to tell me that I always have to learn the hard way. Never mind how, at least I learn, right? So there you have it, no worries, no doubts, and no regrets.