I want to feel. It’s been so long, too long.

I sometimes fear that there is all there is to it, that things will never get better, that nothing more will happen, that I’ve been waiting for nothing

I listen to the tapping sounds I make, trying to string sentences together, desperate to translate this void that I feel.

Maybe tomorrow, I tell myself day in and day out. Maybe tomorrow, I get to feel.

Slowly, carefully, gradually, bit by bit. 

One day, we are gone. 

We shift back from we to I, from us to me. 

Long conversations become one liner messages, 

our quiet whispers replaced with sighs. 

The silence engulfs me, drowns every fibre of my being. I desperately want to get out of this stupor, and I realize that there is only one way out. 

I shake my head, fighting back the tears that threaten to betray the stoic mask I've been wearing for so long. 

I've come this far, there is no turning back. 

Since I downloaded Stanza on my iPhone a few weeks back, I've been reading non-stop. Illustrated above, thanks to my stellar~ Paint skills, are the books I've read so far.

I’ve been on a YA/Chick-lit kick since Harry Potter ended e few weeks ago. I refuse to read anything heavy as I am emotionally unstable~.

So far, I’ve read Lauren Conrad’s LA Candy series, which I suspect was loosely based on her life. It wasn’t as bad as I expected, it turned out to be an easy, entertaining read.

I also read Melissa de la Cruz’s Au Pairs series. I enjoyed the first 3 books, but I lost interest a few pages into Crazy Hot, the series’ fourth and last installment.

I just finished the first book of Sara Shepard's Pretty Little Liars, which I assumed is an exciting read, since I've seen some episodes of the series. I gave up halfway through the second book, Flawless, though. I have to find a better ePub file, as the one I currently have is hard to read. Also, the story wasn't as riveting as I thought it would be.

I just started reading Veronica Roth's Divergent, which is reminiscent of Suzanne Collins' hit series, The Hunger Games, which I enjoyed. So far, I like what I'm reading. I think there's a budding romance between Four and Beatrice! I live for shit like that.

Watched the seventh season of Grey's Anatomy last night. I was feeling very emotional (PMS), and I thought, what better way to add to my misery than to watch my favorite surgeons from Seattle whom I haven't been keeping up with since I graduated from college more than a year ago. 

I took a break from this show mainly because it was depressing. I would cry after each episode; the dialogue (mostly Meredith's monologues that hit dangerously close to home), as well as the soundtrack, drove me to tears. 

I was only able to watch seven episodes last night, and in terms of drama, they did not disappoint. What I noticed, though, was the chage in scenes I was getting so worked up on, most of which I would not have been able to relate to years ago. 

Change, really. It's odd how, even when I least expect it, I am reminded that things aren't how they used to be, which, I now realize, isn't a bad thing. 

So much has happened since my last post. 

For starters, I turned 23. My actual birthday was spent at home, preparing for an early morning trip to Cebu the following morning, where I visited my grandparents, aunties, uncles, and cousins. All in all, it may have been the best birthday I've had in years. For the first time since my late teenage years, the perpetual state of loneliness I would almost always feel was not there. For the first time, I was at peace. 

My 22nd year was remarkable, though. I landed my first real job, the 9 to 6 type. I can't say I'm particularly in love with what I'm doing, but it pays relatively well, so there's that. Also, I get to write a lot. Granted, I mostly write emails, but I'm not one to choose. 

In May, I started bonding with my closest college friends again. I can't believe I haven't seen some of them in years! Really, the indifference has to stop. 

Some people may say that I am too old for teenage issues. At 22, I find myself still obsessing about the same concerns I had years ago, only this time, they are slightly different.

I burn bridges. It's the way I'm wired. It's not something I'm proud of, but I do it. It's inevitable, I tell myself. People grow up, we grow apart. Our interests change. Sometimes, we can no longer relate to each other, and in my opinion, relationships can't be forced. However, a small voice inside my head tells me that if both parties put an effort into it, the friendship can be saved. But does it work that way? Aren't relationships, friendships, in particular, supposed to be efortless? I don't know. I'm sure the ones worth saving are, though.

I sometimes find it hard to talk to the friends I had when I was going through my alcoholic~ phase. They remind me of how hard my life was back then. Talking to them takes me back to my drunken stupor. At the time, nothing in my life was certain, school was taking forever, and my perpetual state of intoxication wasn't helphig. Also, my relationships have fallen apart. In the truest sense of the word, I felt that alcohol was all I had. Now, years later, I can't bear to spend time with them again. Even the occasional drinking sessions, I can't bring myself to attend. Although I can not ignore how that part of my life has shaped me into who I am today, I do not want to remember. In fact, I'd rather forget.

However, they were my friends. Actually, I think they still are. This is what's been bothering me. What do I do, how do I separate the memories of my pain from the moments I spent with my friends, when, thanks to my drinking problem then, all the recollections I have are blurred, and only the pain stood out?

My goodness. Relationships. The statement Who needs them? is ill-fitting. Because I do. We all do. 

I miss my friends, I guess. I haven’t had time to spend time with with anyone lately, owing to my busy schedule, and theirs, too. I just want to talk to someone, you know? I just need to know that nothing has changed, even when I know that everything has. We’re not in college anymore, for one. We’re grown-ups now, with real problems, real responsibilities. I just want to know that, despite all these, we can still manage to talk about real things, genuine interests, books, movies, films, current events. I want to know that the scope of our conversations will not be limited to mindless gossip about our former blockmates.