Overdues and Garlic Breath

Smint, anyone?
No, thanks. I've had enough to rival the breath of the Close-up commercial model on TV. Just woke up, haven't had enough courage to get out of that darn bed. I'm soo soo soo late... have to catch up on a lot of things in life. I'm trying to move on, ladies and gents. Had my heart recently broken for the nth time last wednesday (was it?) and now, I'm trying to pick up the pieces again... yeah yeah yeah. Whatever you say, I don't care. Sounds mushy, but absolutely true. Correction, Raechie (she is my imaginary friend, by the way) --- it's not the sex that I'm after nor it's the boy's dick. It's the feel-good gummy yummy jelly well-o thing that envelops me when he hugs me tight and kisses me. Oh weelllll... 'nuf said. Too much mush will kill my already dead brain cells. I don't want to add more insult to the injury we both inflicted on each other. I don't want to be the next target of vegetarians rallying for the next best thing to do for double dead meat.
Yes, I'm trying to move on. When I went to sleep last night, my dream was almost empty, save for some flashbacks on those hot summer nights Mr M (yeah. let's call him Mr M, my recent ex-bf -- compliments from Marc Chua, aka Wushu) and I spent together. And oh... not only those hot summer nights, but the wet and wild nights as well. I'm not trying to fire up your sparky imaginations in here, but whatever it is you're thinking, you're sooo right about that. When I woke up today, I was thinking "Oh my Gad (as in OMG), don't tell me I've turned into a salivating bitch --er -- nymphomaniac over the past year??!? Yey." Whatever it is that made me like this, thank you. I've embraced my sexuality more openly and would gladly take Margie Holmes' job from Cosmo or Asia Agcaoili's spot on FHM. The only sad thing is that -- oh well -- I must admit. I MUST admit. I must admit that I loved the man, boo hoo.
I really did. It's a shocking revelation that even close friends would find hard to believe. I was always the eager predator, I stop at nothing, and go staright down to business. And I mean straight DOWN. As I always tell you, "It's not my fault if they fall in love with me." Well, dear bitch me, is it not your fault that you fell in love with them, too?
I'm trying hard to find the answers to the magic question (got the word from Leslie Tayao, thanks. nice term, babe) and I am now in the process of psychoanalyzing Me. I've always been open to relationships and kinky stuff (that includes role-playing, handcuffs, chocolate syrup and bondage) and promise myself ALWAYS not to get DEEPLY involved, but look where I am today. The player gets to be the target of her game, and in the end, nobody wins --- not even superlative Me. I want to change, I want to find the simpler things in life. Maybe, I've had too much of adventure early on in my life that now I'm trying to mellow down but I am very afraid of real commitments. It's more of fear and paranoia about relationships and because I don't see myself in the light, I always wind up in the dark, and it sucks big time. Help.
I met him while I was still in another relationship. Got to hang out with him, talk over on the phone and exchange stuff. He's not that good-looking, and he didn't even have any talents at all -- save for delayed ejaculation, harharhar. But for some peculiar reason, I found myself falling for him to the point that I abandoned my 4-year relationship just to be with him. I thought I could always get away, but not. My murky past still haunts me, and that includes my last boyfriend before him and a couple of other guys who have the hots for me (you don't want to be as beautiful and appealing like me, it's a pain in the ass... take it from the pro.) and that is always the gist of our arguments. Greek mythology tells Cupid's story --- that Love cannot live without Trust. We didn't trust each other enough because from the start, our relationship sprang from an illicit love affair. How exciting. But I'm too tired of the excitement. He tells me he loves me, I tell him I love him but love is never enough. I gave him my all, he gave his all and yet we still think that these all are never enough. There are days when I could feel his anger, but he never spat them out. I could just feel the venom in his kisses, the coldness in his eyes and the slump in his embrace. The way he makes love to me is no longer the same --- it's more of a routine, that sometimes I can't help thinking if he is just after my muscle control or what?! The anger became irrepressible, and when I think about it, I could not pinpoint where the hell did it come from anyway. I'm still wondering about it up to now.
Was I too clingy? Was I too lax? I could not tell. I asked Mr M not to be too dependent on me, and he gave me much space which I didn't need. I want to shout at him and tell him "I'm a Buddhist, dammit! Give me some moderation!" but no, I didn't. I tried to communicate, shed off my mask and be honest with him, but it would always be a trust issue. He would always think I am up to something, that sometimes, just to satisfy his paranoia, I really make up something -- of course, which makes him more suspicious. Pathetic.
I loved him, yes, how I loved him. There were nights when I would cry myself to sleep all because of the stupid things we got ourselves into. Too much love kills, and we can never bring back the love we used to have. We might go on trying forever, but forever will just pass away because of too much trying. Love is dead, hatred is born and trust never existed. I can still look him straight in the eye and tell him how much I loved him, but for now, I am apathetic. I cried for 2 straight days, wallowing in misery and heartache but for all the pain and emptiness I went through, I feel numb.
I tried to cry last night. I forced myself to cry, but not even a single drop of tear would fall. I tried assessing my feelings, but for the first time in my life I was completely able to shut off any emotion. I could not assess anything, save for the good memories we had that I know I would always live by on nights when I feel empty. I know that there will be some nights in the future when I would end up crying myself again to sleep for no reason, but as of today, I'll gently pull the covers up my chin and say a prayer for him --- that he may find his happiness, along with the love he always deserves.
I'm not bitter, no I am not. I try to sound one, to make it more realistic that I came from a break-up but I could feel no bitterness inside of me, only regrets that I didn't make the best out of it. But for all the things we went through and all the experiences we shared, I never regret them at all. It was all happy and fun and sad and crazy, but they were definitely the best times of my life.
I am so overdue. I have to pay my bills to Karma and pass my homework to Zen. I miss him, and today I feel like crying for the first time again after friday night. But I'm still thinking about it. I'll save my tears for the next Juday movie and munch on Garlic sticks.