9 Crimes

I kinda made an oath (to twitter) that I wouldn't blog and go back to writing on my journal instead. The journal which by the way my now ex-boyfriend-but-I'm-not-quite-sure-where-we-stand gave me. But it's late and I'm room mate with my stepmom and stepsister who I wouldn't want to bother with me turning on the lights just so I could write down my daily sob story. So there.

I've been in Palawan for almost 3 weeks. 1/4 of the reason I said yes to this whole shenanigan was because I wanted to do my dad a favor. He insisted I come here for work and stay with them (them is not really the right way to call it since we only get to see him once a month). Before I "moved" here, I stayed for a quick vacay and somehow, things went okay. Almost every night, dad and I would get to talking and he would tell me how nice it would be to have me stay with them and that he wanted to spend time with me so I won't have to always lock myself in my room and skip meals back home. So eventually, I said yes. On the other hand, 3/4 of the push was because I wanted to get away from my relationship. At that time, I honestly thought that the wisest thing to do was to just leave and be as geographically far as possible. It was all too much. Unbearable. Of course the thought of missing him loomed over me. But we were seriously fighting like a married couple who's on their way to a bitter, bloody divorce. We said things both of us never imagined speakable by either. We fought and shouted and cried almost on a daily basis. It was a complete bloodshed. I haven't felt that tired and beat up ever. And I know the same goes for him. And so I left.

Up until the last moment I knew that somehow he still didn't want to let loose of the grip. Honestly, I didn't too. But what overcame me was all the things that weighed me down for so long. In every fight we had, regardless of who's hurting who, I would always end up crying. With the last one we had, I shed not a single tear. I was calm. In pain, yes but calm. I was all dried up. Literally.

For 2 weeks I was living in peace. Still no tears shed, walking and talking like nothing happened. Like all is well inside my head. Yes, I think about us. Yes, I go over everything. Yes, I grope through every possible detail there is to grope. And yes, out of nowhere with no forewarning whatsoever, I realized that maybe it's my fault. Only then did the tears finally come.

I texted him (which by the way is still unknown to my best friend 'cause he'll probably flip if he finds out about this). I apologized. I acknowledged all my mistakes, not a single hint of motive to put up yet another fight. I was standing up for everything. Ready to be publicly shamed, for chrissake! I laid myself out, there for his vengeful voltures to feast on. And for the first time ever, I brought no guns. No escape latch in mind. Just there for the taking. I told him all I wanted was to be able to say those things to him. But text message after text message, all I kept feeling was that I missed him terribly. And that it's been so long since I last heard his voice. What I wouldn't give just to hear his voice. So I admitted that I did want to get back together. I let out more acknowledgements for my wrongdoings tagged along with promises that not again shall I do them. I told him that I never had this much clarity 'cause him and I never spent this much time apart so I had no chance to really think things through. I always had him telling me, through harsh ways, my mistakes which I had a hard time accepting. Because honestly, it's hard to take those all in when your defenses are being triggered. For more than a year, I never really got to listen and he just kept going on and on. And so did the fights. 

Not surprising me at all, he said he wasn't sure he would want to get back together. Of course I had that coming. I kept reassuring him that this time it's different, this time I had the clear mind I always needed, this time it's me who's asking for a chance from him. Still, he said he needed some time.

So here we are. Suspended on an unclear state. We still exchange a few texts now and then, but only when he checks up on me if I'm still being bothered by this guy who I won't mention 'cause that's just not relevant anymore. Other than that, nothing. Na-dah. No how are you's. No I miss you's. No when are you coming back's. I'm on the other end of the line, waiting for that next text to come no matter how hopeless that seems to be. That's never a good place to be in especially for someone like me - someone who always does something  and who can't stand just waiting for things to unravel. But who knows. Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up to the sound of his text. Who knows, right?