Sweet Nothings

About the Author

  this is not about him. it's a little background about me. sneak peak kumbaga.

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       In our group of friends, i've always been the mommy, the psychologist, and their love expert.

       Yet i'm one of those "NBSB"s. Yes i'm that typical friend who seems to be a know-it-all when it comes to love pero 'di pa naman pala nagkaka-lovelife.

      They ask me "how do you know so much about love?". Well, I like to put it this way. In a way, I can relate to Cupid. He's the freaking God of Love but he hasn't even fallen in love! I'm just a human so don't pressure me into that kind of mess.

        But to answer that question, I know a lot about love from a third person's point of view. I may not have experienced it myself but I sure do read a lot of novels, watch a lot of chick flick movies, sing a lot of love songs and my most most embarrassing habit? I stalk random lovers, be it on the school, social media, anywhere. (Creep? I don't care)

       To some who are asking "don't you have a life?", well, actually I do have life. It's just really boring.

       So, almost all my life i've witnessed different forms of love and that's probably why I know a lot about it. If there's one thing I don't know about love, it's that I don't know how it feels to be loved and to be in love (Cupid na Cupid eh no?). But that changed the day I met him.

         Like Cupid, I was fool enough to shoot myself with my own arrow. (Stupid! Stupid!) And I fell in love. (Stupid)

         He changed me. He changed my opinion on things. He changed my principles, he turned my world upside down but I wasn't ready and now i'm a mess.

         I found myself drowning in the horrible depths of love, thinking he would be there to save me or at least drown with me (Stupid). But then he wasn't.

          And now the words feel like water filling my chest. I couldn't tell anyone and so I write. I write the words out of my chest because i'm afraid that if I don't get it off, i'll never be able to breathe. I write 'til I run out of words, 'til my hands shake in tiredness, and 'til I so desperately look for words and realize that i've been writing for hours.

        Because at the end of the day, i'm just a girl who would willingly pour out her thoughts for the world to hear but I know i'll never say enough because it was not said to him (in the words of my hero, Adele). I'm just a girl who would write for him 'til words bleed and 'til my brain fails to supply me with words.

        This is me. I write for him. For the man who unconsciously broke my heart and continues to break it everytime I let my guard down.