Only Love Can Hurt Like This

Users. The gay world is full of users. Maybe that's why in this gay dating site that I have an account in, they refer to its members as "users." How slyly accurate.

I've met guys who ended up using me in one way or another. I've met a guy who was only there for the money and the free treats. I've met a guy who used me for my brain. I've met a guy who used me for my body. I've met guys who were only there for the attention. And through all those stumbles, somehow I kept doing the same things over and over again. My friends kept telling me that I never did learn what I should have. I listened to them. But then how can I learn to be somebody who I'm not?

When I give my heart to someone, I always give it whole. I never really learned to play games. I may pose to be a player, but deep inside I'm the Ned Stark of this gay world filled with thieving and scheming and lying Lannisters.

I've been dating this guy recently, and we've spent many nights together. And by that, I don't mean sex (refer to my previous entry.) He was actually like me in many ways. Only he was meaner. And he was shallower. My friends say that we even look alike. But then I thought that maybe it was because he was younger than me. Or maybe because we have vastly different backgrounds. So I always tried to see the best in him whenever we're together. Even if my friends who've met him told me that they didn't trust him. I did not listen to them because I knew him better than they did.

Despite his flaws, I resolved to really give him a try. Looking back, there were relationships I could have saved if only I tried harder. So I thought that with him, I wouldn't be the one who gave up first. This time, I'll try harder than I've ever tried before. Even if it was clear that he wasn't really interested in me. He never asked questions about me. he could put on his earphones and completely ignore me. That was rude of him, I know. But then, as I've said, I tried to understand.

One night, he called me while I was sleeping. He said he wanted to see me and he sounded frantic. So off I went to meet him in the middle of the night. But he did not show up. I was roused out my bed and he did not show up. He never even texted me what happened. But instead of getting mad, I got worried. Because I thought something bad must have happened to him. Surely, he couldn't do that to me.

Then later in the week, he stopped responding to my text messages. And I thought he was gone for good. But instead of getting mad, I hoped that he got back with his ex. As long as he was happy, I was good.

And then last week, he texted me, asking to borrow some money. He knew that I am jobless at the moment, and there had been days when I really had to skip meals. He knew all that. He knew how difficult my situation is at the moment. I asked when he could pay me back and he said he would the next day. So off I went to meet him near his place and handed him the money. But when I asked for it back, he did not reply. I texted him several times and he never replied.

And so here I am. Duped once again. Still unable to believe that there really are guys like him out there. All those weeks we've spent, apparently, he was only there for the free smokes. For the free coffee. For the free drinks. I thought, surely, after spending all this time with me he wouldn't be able to do something like that especially since I've done him no wrong. Especially since I asked nothing in return. He knew I needed my money back but did he even care to reply? No. It has been days since I texted him.

He just did not care, he told me. He prided himself in that. Maybe that way, he wouldn't find himself in a vulnerable position. While I was the one who cared too much. Giving myself away for guys I never really got to know very well. My fault is (and has always been) that I love too much too fast.

I've always thought that love was my weakness. But I realize now that it is also my strength. Because I cared deeply for my students, I was loved. Because I stood by my friends, I was loved. I have people who stand with me because they know I could love. Fiercely. Unconditionally. I can see it more clearly now. I am not liked because of my intelligence or my personality, but because they know that I know how to love.

These wrong guys, they exploited that in me. But at the end of the day, though I may feel hurt by rejection. Though I may cry because I was used, in the end I showed them that I could love. I showed them how it is to really love someone and I know that one day, they would all realize that. And they would know that not everyone they meet can love as much as I do.

All these failures in my life recently have exacted their toll on me. This uncertainty in my life right now. This depression that I'm struggling with and still couldn't overcome. These things made me lose confidence in myself. So much so that I think that I'm worth nothing now. Is it really surprising then that these guys treat me this way?

I see what I should do now. I should learn to love myself again. Yeah, maybe I can still love others but until I love myself, no one will love me back.

Earlier, I was crying. But I realized that I wasn't crying because I loved him per se. I was crying because I loved. I hurt, yes, and I'm not going to deny that. But I hurt because I loved. And like the song said, "Only love can hurt like this..."

I need no revenge, no. I don't need to hate on them just to make myself feel better. Because no matter how they may try to deny this, I know that I've got something that they could never have. They may claim that I have lost. They may claim that I am bitter. But in the end, what did I really do? I loved. I showed them love the best way that I could. And that's not such a bad thing right? There are far more worse ways to be remembered.

You're Mine

I wish I could see you tonight.

I wish I could bring you home and have you sprawl on the only proper couch in our living room. You would take a selfie while I was preparing our drinks and you'd play some of your music (because you hate mine) and we'd smoke a lot and then we'd get drunk, no, tipsy, and after a couple of hours you'd start to lie your head back on the couch and sing and rap and that's the sign for me that you're finally drunk. Though the truth is, it's hard for me to tell when you are really drunk because you always seem to be in control all the time. I tried to tell you that the last time you were here but I got sidetracked. You always could distract me, you know.

And it's really strange because we've met so many times already but we haven't had sex yet. Over the years I've met many guys, and we always ended up doing it, one way or another. When I bring you home, we just talk, that's all. And that's very strange, in my book. Well maybe I'd hug you before you leave and always, always you'd find a reason to untangle yourself from my arms and the next thing I know you're already outside the door, impatient to go. I enjoy those brief moments that I have you in my arms, you know. I enjoy them very much. Something about them just feels right somehow.

I often wonder what we are, you know. Although I think that from your actions that it never had been a question for you. I'm just a friend, that's all. A friend you have been spending a considerable part of your time with lately. A friend you can talk to about your interests because I share them. A friend, like you said, who has at least a semblance of depth.

I knew that at first, I was rushing us into a romantic direction. I kept dropping hints left and right. I kept baiting you. Well, it's because that is what I am looking for now. I'm looking for a boyfriend. But after a while, I kinda mellowed out since you were not responding. At first I thought that you were just not that way. You were not romantic. You were not sentimental. While I am the King of Melodrama (like you said). That got me really worried at first because we were too different and I knew we'd get in trouble sooner or later.

But I took all of that in stride and I adapted. I followed your advice. You've always said that I tend to overcomplicate things so I won't think about it anymore. At least, not very much. I'd take whatever happens. To us.

I remember that time when we were at home and I moved much closer to you than usual. And the next thing I knew I was holding your hand. I half-expected that you'd pull it away but you didn't. And I wanted to kiss you right then and there but it was really late and your Mom was calling you and it was time for you to go.

It isn't always like that though. Not all of our nights were great. Some nights I walk home asking myself why I even bothered seeing you. Especially when you get to ignoring me much more than usual. Or when your actions are much more confusing than usual. But somehow, the next time you text or call me, all is hastily forgiven and I'd be ready to go.

Sometimes I think that we're both playing this game where the one who falls for the other first loses. And it is obvious that I am in much greater danger of losing than you are. But then, the possibility of losing doesn't faze me anymore. That doesn't matter much really. I'm not playing this game to win your hand. I'm playing it just to be with you.

Sometimes I wish I could just let go, you know. That we could just both let go and be done with these safety nets and walls. I wish I could tell you these things when you are here, preferably in my arms, with you leaning on me. With the dim yellow lights and a suitably slow song playing warmly washing over us. I wish I could whisper in your ear: "I just wanna say you're mine, you're mine. Fuck what you heard, you're mine, you're mine. I just wanna say you're mine, you're mine..."

But tonight you're not here. So for now, I'd just sing to myself while sitting in your couch, wishing that I could see you tonight.

What Darwin Said

Three years ago, a friend asked me how I imagined myself in the future. And instead of spouting some typical response, all I said was that I imagined myself out under the sun, walking. That was all. My answer gave her pause. She did not probe my answer any further and we were silent for a while.

A few weeks ago, I met my friend who was set to fly for graduate school in the US. We were talking about how my former colleagues saw me now. "Your life is... a trainwreck," she said, spreading her hands. And I laughed. I had to laugh.

Some nights, when I'm alone in our living room, smoking and playing some music, an intense panic grabs hold of me. Telling me that things are too late now. That I've been on this downward spiral ever since I had the courage to leave the path which was set for me. That I was doomed when I took that first step. But eventually, after a few songs, that feeling dissipates. Because I've learned to tune them out of my head. There is no use dwelling on such things. "If I look back, I am lost."

Some days, when I'm out on yet another futile attempt to find some semblance of a job, I look back on what I've done to my life. I wonder whether all the important decisions I've made were wrong, no matter how right they felt at that time. Though I'm learning so much with my diminished resources, the uncertainty drags me down. It's like I'm suffering from this neverending anxiety.

I never really learned how to survive in this world. In my world, I'm a king. And I'm happiest when I could impose my ideals on the real world. My illusion of megalomania. My thirst for melodrama. All the regular academic achievements I've gained in the past, I never really strived for. They just came to me. So easily that I never really learned their value. Now that things are not being handed to me on a silver platter, I am clueless on how to begin. Who would've thought that this thrice valedictorian will end up jobless and increasingly desperate?

Perhaps it all had something to do with my albums. They've always meant much more to me than I'm letting on. There's so much more going on behind each song. Maybe I just really wanted a variety of experiences so I could be inspired to make albums with different themes. Because these albums, they will be my legacy. They're not mere records. They're records of my life.

But it isn't like there aren't any new opportunities coming my way. There are quite a surprising multitude of them actually. All these exciting paths, opening up before me. And yet strangely, I do not have the will to take any of them. Because my life is done. I am done. I feel it in my bones that I have reached the end. I've always wanted a fireworks kind of life and I got that, ultimately. I've given one of the best shows there was and my audience have oohed and aahed and clapped their hands off. And now I'm done and I'm just ashes falling to the ground.

Most people, they are aiming for something. And that is what gives them the drive. The direction. But me, I've had what I wanted. I've done my part for this world. I don't ask for much, really. And I don't want anything more. I should have been gone a long time ago. It's like I already missed my train and I'm left at the station.

I'm a man of the moment. I only live for the now. Logically, rationally, I should plan for my future. But that's just not me. I'm the man with no future. Literally. At least with the way I am living my life, I am consistent.

Darwin said that evolution favors those who are able to adapt. And I couldn't. So I should go. And I accept that wholeheartedly. Don't feign concern. Don't waste your time on me. No pity. No sympathy. No commiseration. Help those who deserve it. Help those who really need it. Me, I'm good. I'm good to go.

I'm not fucking depressed. I'm just brutally honest.