Caught in a Bad Romance

So here I am again. Nursing a slightly broken heart. I have held off blogging about what had happened the past week, drowning myself in work, friends and more importantly, television. I've told the world what had happened to me and Jeoff's parents and well, sadly, it has not bore me anything new. It is the same problem and I have come to accept that it is not going to change. 

Jeoff broke up with me last week, Saturday, at 10.30 in the morning. Officially, we have called it quits. No wedding, no relationship, no nothing. I was again, pretty predictive in my last post. 

Jeoff emailed me and told me that he loves me and he will not be leaving me. He said though that he needs to colect his thoughts and will speak to me tomorrow. I think wait for a couple of weeks when your mother decides to never speak to you again for the rest of my life and let's see you pine for me still. Should I just do the right thing and let him go? I know how much he loves them. I just need to do the right thing and let him go and have him find some other woman whom his parents will love and I hope will love him more than I do.

Amazingly, I guess I know him well enough that he would always choose his family, a trait that sadly diminishes my priority in the hierarchy of things to do in his list and yet, made me fall for him even more. 

What is worse is that his father has fallen even more ill than before and now, he has slipped into a state where he has been repeating what he has been saying. It's a little nervous breakdown, brought on by the thought that their only son is leaving them to be with me. In case you're wondering why it's so bad to be with me, I can't give you the answer to that. But as my good friend Raika, has mentioned before. perhaps it's because every mother chooses herself to be template of her son's wife. I am not his mother. 

Surprisingly, I am calmer than most people would expect me to be. At work, no one knows what ordeal I faced and am facing except for a select few. Only one knows the story. I had told all my friends though, because I didn't want people to expect a wedding in October only to be disappointed that neither bride nor groom will show up. Superficially, I look fine. I know I look great, because make-up does amazing things that you body will not do for you. So do clothes. And finally, the posture, stance and grace should be there, beyond belief. I am an expert at covering up my true emotions, no matter how overwhelming they are - in the office and everywhere else. I think I learned that because I didn't want to people to feel obligated to care for me. Also, I don't want pity. I wanted genuine concern. In my process of coping with this so-called rejection, I timed my breakdowns. I wanted it everyday for 30 minutes. After 30 minutes, I would lie back, wipe my tears off and head down to wash my face and then, sleep on the couch. Why in the couch? My room was too painful a place to stay in. Pictures of us, stuffed toys, jewelry - everything he had ever given me lied in the 4 corners of the room. Every talk we enjoyed happened in that room. It was surreal. 

In the process of "decluttering" my feelings, I am most certain that I love him. I really do... In the back of my mind, I know it may not work, and I feel so powerless about it but I know I love him too much. So many questions, so much resentment and anger and regret poured into me. Discovering yourself in a frame of 30 minutes doesn't allow you much branching out into the psyche but I'm glad that I didn't push myself for more. I just think that maybe, if I allow myself an hour to cry hard, I won't be able to hide the fact that I cried.  

I am now at a standstill. I am caught in a bad romance... a very bad one. I don't want to be a friend but I can't be a lover. I love him too much but I know he has every issue in the world with me. I love him too much to give up but I love him too much to not give up. 

Life is fucking complicated. 

Family Traps

Family Portrait - P!nk

I don't even know why the hell I'm blogging about it. I guess I don't really have anywhere else where I can actually say what the hell I feel, so I better just go ahead and state what I need to state.

I'm friggin' tired of being an older sister.

Funny, you say...

Yup, I dunno if anyone has ever treated being part of a family as a job but I am on this job 24/7. I actually want to give up on it. The more I think about it, the more it allows me to rationalize and justify what I am feeling.

I am from a family of very-together parents, and a brother that is not so together in his brain. I actually have the complex of a middle child brought on by the fact that I am the middle kid. Yes folks... I had a elder brother, who died while he was a fetus inside my momma's tummy. I exhibit the classic symptoms of the middle child syndrome...

The middle or second born child or children often have the sense of not belonging. They fight to receive attention from parents and others because they feel many times they are being ignored or dubbed off as being the same as another sibling. Being in the middle a child can feel insecure. The middle child often lacks drive and looks for direction from the first born child. Sometimes a middle child feels out of place because they are not over achievers and like to go with the flow of things.

Being a middle child would mean they are loners. They really don’t like to latch on to a person in a relationship, there fore they have trouble keeping one due to lack of interest. Not liking to take the limelight for anything, they are not over achievers and just simply work enough work to get by, and typically that goes with school as well as a career. They are however very artistic and creative. If forced to use abilities they will work well, but do not work well under pressure. They often start several projects but rarely keep focused long enough to finish a project. The best career move for a middle child would be along the lines of using their creative. Going into a writing or journalism career, and into a career that they could freely express themselves would be good. Anything that would have hours that are flexible, and projects that frequently changed would be good for a middle born child. Since relationships are not of high importance to a middle child, often times they are alone. However, the best possible match for a middle child would be a last born.

Source: http://www.essortment.com/all/whatismiddlec_rsoe.htm

I have always wondered why the hell I always feel that my parents never really loved me the same way my brother was loved. He gets off scot-free, while I suffer asking for penance for everything I have done, good or bad.

Case in point, last Sunday, the belligerent brat decided to bring his highly pretentious GF to the house for an overnight stay. With Mama being away for the weekend to go back to the province and visit her kin, I was in charge. He threw a fit when I simply asked "You're not sleeping in the same room, are you?". What ensued was a heated exchange of words. Followed by pretentious GF saying calmly "I think I'll just go home...". (Obviously, she wouldn't be caught in the middle of a family drama which she herself caused, let alone be subjected to the darts of fury I have to lash out against her.) He slammed the door shut, almost locking me in the house. Upon trying to pry our ancient metal door open, I kept thinking to myself if I was wrong, if I was too strict... I sent an SMS to my mom, who after 2 hours later confirmed that she did approve of the overnight stay of the pretentious GF in the house, but had assumed that it was for Saturday and not Sunday night. That really got to me.

If I was actually to bring a strange man into my home, into my room, when I was 21... would my mom have gotten

a. a shotgun
b. dinner for the man
c. happy that her daughter will finally get laid

That is a question that will haunt my mind forever.

What happened next was also detrimental to my mental health as Mama got back home and spoke nothing of the incident. Like it was something normal.

Tuesday night, I come home with my belligerent brat of a brother (Yes, I love alliterations!) with his friends on the couch, watching TV and smoking. This was at 2AM... Do I react? Nope. I march straight up to my room. I told my dad the next morning to please tell my friggin' brother that I would really love some quiet time to myself, stress and all from the office. My Mama then tells my brother to lay off the late night couch sessions. My brother then texts me very hurtful messages like "Stay out of my fucking business" and "You're such a bitch...". Maybe I am. I forward the messages to my Mama, thinking she'd castigate the little freak to which she says "Just ignore him..."

Ok...I totally get it. The little repugnant brat was just venting. I want to vent to by calling him names no respectable newspaper would be caught dead printing. But nope, I just have to ignore it. I am trying to but it just cuts right to you. You know, back then, I was thinking, I want to raise my kids the same way my parents raised me but come to think of it... nope.

Sure I never did drugs. I didn't sleep around. I couldn't f*cking kill a bird, let alone another human being, but damn, I couldn't love myself for what I am cos I feel like I am never good enough. I was never given much discipline so I tried to be rigid and disciplined for my sake. I always was honest because I thought that the only way people can be honest with me is if I actually pushed myself to be a good person, good enough to never lie. I became a recluse, fighting for a friggin' chance to be a director, engulfing myself with so much eff*ng work, it ain't funny no more so I can prove to myself that I still got it... Even in my relationship with my fiance, I need to hear that I am loved for me to know that I am loved. I need to be valued and appreciated cos I never felt appreciated. How's that for f*cking twisted?!

Last night, when I got into a cab, I whipped out my phone and started typing the plate number of the cab I was riding. It was 1:30AM... and I just realized, oh right, Jeoff's dad is en route to Toronto... His dad asked me to ALWAYS send him the cab info everytime I go home. (Pretty preposterous, right, since I'm a 27 year-old woman who has always been taking cabs... ) I sent the message to Jeoff instead. He replied, "...you should send it to your folks. " The thing is my folks never asked me to actually text them any kind of information as to where I am. Could it be that for some malignant reason, his dad actually loves me more than my own folks do?

27

It's been almost 27 years since I was born. I just wanted to take the time to view my life from a 26 year-old's perspective...

I've been so blessed.

• I have a wonderful family whom I love very much. We've had our differences but we've been pulling through. I know that whatever kind of trouble or problem I face, my dad, my mom and my brother will always be there for me.
• Great friends whom I will never, ever wish to change. I have been fortunate to find so many wonderful people in this lifetime and I only can wish that whatever strength they give me is also the strength they draw from me. I almost feel army strong because of them and I will never wish for my relationship with them to change. I have a few very good friends whom I have shown the most vulnerable side of me. If I have cried in front of you, chances are I trust you. And if I have been crying and trying to explain my side at the same time, it just means that I'll give you half of my liver. I love my friends very much. While there are only a few whom I completely and absolutely trust, I sincerely thank you. I consider one to be my sister. And I love her to bits. You know who you are. :) Thanks for being the person who trusts me and the person whom I trust...sincerely.
• My career that may need a few changes but still is a kick-ass one. I'm very fortunate that I'm at this point where I can make my own decisions as a training personnel. While it is absolutely true that I am, at this point, the most senior and most learned training coordinator in the entire company, I think, I don't really wish for any promotion. I'm happy being able to teach and being able to find solutions to people's looping and sometimes twisted questions.
• I have been blessed with enough funds to be able to enjoy life's simple pleasures. Being able to take a cab when needed...capability to drink a cup of overpriced coffee when I want to, being able to dye my hair Phoenix-red...having a complete line of expensive hair care products just because I want to...a laptop that's amazing...a great bag and shoe collection...having cable and internet connection and electricity...
• Knowledge that is not necessarily useful but is amusing. I think this is the reason why people think I'm smart...because I know Potassium Permanganate explodes with sugar. Haha! Seriously! I think people assume I know a lot of stuff, but I think I only know a few things. It takes years to master an idea and decades to have one of your own, well at least a billion-dollar one. :)
  
• Having a slightly normal, kind of offbeat sense of sarcasm, wit and sense of humor. I think it saves me from a lot of confrontations.
  
• Having someone who is able to see through my actions and words right into my heart, who knows how to forgive and love while proximity isn't on our side

I have been blessed. I don't want to ask for anything else. I only ask that the people whom I love will be blessed with excellent health and more time with me.

It's been a wonderful world. It still is. It will always be. God has always provided and God has always been kind and good.