I think as a person, I’m one of the greediest people alive. My greed is not for wealth but mainly for love and attention from people who don’t really care that much for me. The age old question is why do I still want what little scraps of attention and love they throw over at my face?

The answer is simple. I want to win them.

Is it innate? Maybe it is. This desire to conquer the impossible, to surpass the unsurmountable, to reach the unreachable star (thanks, Impossible Dream). It could also just be me. Not that I hate losing but I hate giving up and I have given up at my relationships several times and it hurts, a lot.

So now, I am yearning to be noticed and when I get noticed, I get so happy like I’m on a high. Then when it stops, I get so down. Crap. I’m an addict.

The reason I’m writing here is the mere tiny incident that the Best Man actually liked my posts on Facebook. Stupid, right? Very stupid. I’m so glad he doesn’t read my blog or I would literally hide under a rock and never be heard from again!

Oh and I also made an effort with R. I sent him a message asking how he was and all and then he replied, I’m ok. That’s it. Cold and uncaring. Why are guys like that?

Sigh. So the Best Man is still kind as ever. And I have to admit, although I know that liking him again is not allowed, I’m happy that he treats me as a friend still.

I’m greedy enough to want everything. Love from a guy who cares for the real me. I want that. I want him to love me, even if I’m immature and weak. I want him to be proud of me that I’m who I am now even after all the shit I have been through. I want him to stay with me even if I can’t cook and can’t make any plant grow. I want him to like me as a bestfriend, as a girlfriend, as a lover, as a mother and hopefully, as a wife.

I am older and wiser in some ways but I’m still clueless about love and how it envelops people to be partners for life. If given a chance at love again, I would grab it. But honestly, I’m scared as well. It now means opening myself all over again, to another person who can easily hurt me and break me. He could also be the only one to complete me.

For now, I’m greedy. I don’t care. I’m praying that for this vice, God will allow me to keep whatever I get, even if it only lasts for a little while.

The Wheels of Love

For a certain time, liking someone has eluded me. I have cited this before and it’s mainly due to the fact that I don’t meet new people. 

This month, I have been blessed to meet someone. He seemed nice and down to earth. He prays and he was not at all intimidated by me. This made the most impact because most guys ignore me and think I’m difficult. Which I actually am but it doesn’t show. 

So, R, as I will dub him, was cool. Sadly, not everything was good. He’s in a marriage he can’t get out of, not yet, anyway. He also has to go overseas for work.

Despite all that, I liked him. We don’t have much in common but I felt that he could be the one.

How foolish of me.

R doesn’t think nor feel the same way. I was naive to hope so.

Thus, it seemed as if the wheels of love had once more eluded me. 

However, instead of feeling down, I was just glad. Relieved to learn that I simply need to take it as it is. 

R and I are friends and maybe just by being like that, that’s the best for both of us.

Much like me and the Best Man who got into chatting over his birthday. It was nice and comfy. Do I like him? Yeah, but that’s it. I was happy to learn he was doing well and happy for him with his family. I do wish him the best.

I wish R the best, too.

Life is too short to mull over the small stuff. Maybe one day, the wheels of love would turn for me but if not, it’s all good. I’m thankful to be alive. Thankful to have met R and the Best Man. Thankful to have met K, as well. 

K was an old online pal but somehow, we became friends! So forget the wheels of love for now. I like having my little circle of friendship grow.

This is good. For now.

I am a Catholic

This is my favorite declamation piece. It was from St. Edmund Campion, a Jesuit and martyr, who died for his faith in God. This was his speech during one of his trials:

How do I stand, between the Pope and the Queen? I hear the question a thousand times in my dreams, until it seems that my whole destiny is bound up in an answer to that question. I have appealed to reason, and on three different occasions, I have disputed publicly with scholars and clergymen. But little comes of it, save a few distorted notes for history books. You cannot reason with those who do not love reason.

In the tower of London, I hear rumors about Edmund Campion. Some say that he has deserted the Pope; some say that he has deserted the Church. The crown is very busy, while I am on the rack, being tormented. Sometimes I find it hard to pray. At times I seem to have no feeling, no memory, only an intention. The day for trial has come now, and I must try to rouse myself, it seems so useless. Trial? It is a trial in name only. Nonsense! Is a man a traitor to England because he hears idle chatter, and does not report it? If that were so, how many men in England would be innocent of treason? Every man on this jury, every man in this court, yea! Even the judges on the bench would be guilty. Only a deaf man would be free of guilt.

My Lords and Jury: Let me say without equivocation, that I have never encouraged, nor tolerated conspiracy against the Crown. I have said, and I do say, that the Queen errs in matters of faith. But is it treason in this land of ours to say that the Queen is mistaken? If so, then our lives belong to the headsman, for we do say that the Queen errs. But we say something else too. We say that we love England, as much as man can love a country without despising its God.

I stand here before you, a broken wreckage of a man. This trembling piece of clay that cowers at your feet, human brutes have battered to a bloody, senseless pulp. No part of it has not quivered under mailed fist or bludgeoning jack. These eyes that bore through you like a hunted beast’s have been drained of sleep for days on end. This body that scarce can stand upon its feet they have starved to skin and bones, till now it is a shadowy skeleton, groping blindly to its grave. Whatever fiendish torture the hounds of Hell could conjure, they have tried on me, till this flesh could endure no more, and there was only the razor’s edge between this life and the next.

They broke my body, Your Honor; they tried to break my soul. Into my weakened limbs they injected drugs that slithered through my brains and coiled around the stronghold of my will like a brood of poisonous snakes. Ten times ten thousand harrowing moments, the citadel was all but fallen; the gates of the castle all but flung open. Today, I stand here before you, as my torturers hope, a man with a broken soul.

Your Honor, my soul has not been crushed to shattered fragments. By the grace of God it has come out bloody, but unbowed. I have not denied my faith; I have not betrayed my King. The blood of a God-man which gushed out in a torrent of love down the Cross of Ignominy two thousand years ago has spanned the centuries and flowed into my veins, and filled me with a strength not my own. I crawled out of your torture chambers with a spark of life flickering in my soul. It is enough. I do not ask for more. So long as I can stand before the world – even for one glorious second, a living witness to Christ, I care not if my life-blood trickles away like sand in an hourglass.

I know I have not long to live. Only a few seconds of life are left to me. Already I can feel the death rattle creeping up my throat. But before I surrender my soul to God, I declare, before this travesty of a court of justice; before the ghosts of all the nameless martyrs you have killed; before these terrorized brow-beaten people who will one day fall crashing over your heads like a resounding clap of thunder; before men and angels; and the God you have exiled from your borders, out into the far limitless reaches of His creation, I declare, I AM A CATHOLIC! In this faith I have lived. In this faith I now die.

He Who Hears…

As I walked through the empty halls of the school, I felt a cool breeze. I breathed a sigh of relief. The past few days, the temperature reached high enough to make me think that hell was on earth.

The wind picked up and I smiled happily, feeling slightly cold but calm. It’s now almost dark and very few people are in school.

With each step, I became quite concerned that the lights haven’t been switched on yet. I wonder where the night watch man is.

A few more steps led to a corridor where the stairs should be lighted but it was not. A cold breeze blew but instead of the welcoming feeling, I felt a shiver of fear.

Now was not the time to get scared. I continued my now unsteady walk, glancing around to check if there were other people besides me. I now noticed that it was pitch black and the corridor seemed too long. I took out my phone and activated the torch to illuminate my way, when suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned around immediately but no one was there behind me. The darkness was suffocating. My meager light seemed like a dwarf in front of a giant.

I don’t know how long I stood there in shock. I wanted to flee but my feet felt as if balls of chain were around it. I suddenly felt this deep sadness overwhelming me. This despair was suffocating me.long_dark_hallway_v2_wip_by_spinagain

I heard a whisper.

“Stay with me.”

I can now feel the air getting colder and heavier. My phone flickered and then died. The only sounds were coming from my heavy breathing.

I simply closed my eyes and whispered back.

“I’ll stay.”

The following day, the school was abuzz with the latest news. A teacher was found lying on the corridor early in the morning. She was dead and found beside her was a diary. It was of a previous student who disappeared years ago. People claimed that she ran away but investigators found out from the diary that she was raped and left for dead. Her rotting body was found buried behind one of the school’s buildings.

In her diary, she wrote that she spent her dying moments asking for anyone to stay with her but no one could hear her pleas.