.:Dashed:.
A Monologue by Marcelle T. Fabie

It's always been the same old story from day one: boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets back with girl after some dire situation. It's always been so predictable.

That is, until he came along.

Albert was different from everyone I had in the past. Of course, I say that about every single guy I've ever made the mistake of falling for, but all for different reasons, of course. Regardless, Albert was different because when it came to him, I was never really sure of anything.

From day one, there were few things I was certain of when it came to him. Everything was vague. Everything was open-ended. For some time, that worked for me. Soon enough, I realized how exasperating it can get when I really don't know where I stand with him. I mean, does he love me? Does he even give a damn about how I feel? Or am I just feeling the same way every other girl around him feels? Maybe I'm not as special as I think I am. Maybe I'm just as good as the other girl.

Sometimes, I wonder. I want to take a chance at times and just go and spit out what's been eating me for the longest time. This is slower than slow burn... but I can't do anything about it, because for all I know, I'd just get rejected for it, and I'd end up losing the special thing we already have.

Maybe he loves someone else already. For all I know, he could just be in denial, but he already is in love. Maybe the fact that he's in denial explains why I can't get a straight answer from him when I teasingly ask him about the chances we have of getting together.

I used to hate a lot of things. Every time I saw him flirting with another girl, every time I saw him giving some cute Chinese girl the eye, I half wanted to wring his neck, because he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that I'm there. I was a victim of the whole “one of the boys syndrome”. Then for some strange reason, it almost completely stopped. Suddenly, despite his wandering eye, his stories began to be dominated by just one person.

I hate it. It gets progressively worse every single time I hear him tell me how much he likes this particular girl, Sarah, I smile at him and listen eagerly, but I get hurt, too. Despite that, I consciously back off from making him feel awkward. The way I constantly back off like that, I act around him as though he were married. How pathetic is that?

I'm such a hopeless martyr. I love him, but I refuse to love him romantically. Sometimes, I realize that this whole concerted effort to not fall in love with him is in itself already an admission that there's something there. Regardless, I just have to keep on trying to shut him out of my life in that way.

But I don't want him out of my life. He's special. He makes me happy. I know that this is just wishful thinking on my part to hope that I have a chance with him, but I know it makes perfect sense for me to just be there for him. In the back of my head, arrogantly romantic little me says that he needs me.

Of that much, I'm certain that I'm right.

.:Fear:.
A Monologue by Marcelle T. Fabie

I've been friends with Andrea for years. Sometimes, I even think of her as the best friend I've ever had. In so many ways I can't begin to describe, Andrea has simply been special. I don't think I've ever run into someone who's been so sweet to me.

I'm not psychic, but I'm far from dense. Andrea and I have shared a bond that is awkwardly hovering between friendship and romance. Then again, I guess I just don't have that kind of attraction for her. Maybe that would change, but then, maybe not. Only time can tell really.

I know I'm being such a nasty wretch here, considering how I seem to be stringing Andrea along, but in reality, that's not the intention. Andrea is a great friend. I don't know if she understands my feelings, but I make no bones about the things I believe in.

I've been scarred at so many points in my life before. I know she's aware of that. The past trauma that I've been through left an indelible mark on me, to the point that whenever anything remotely reminds me of that trauma, I immediately clam up. I know I'm being irrational here, but then, Andrea reminds me way too much about the last person I saw myself spending forever with.

Even then, I can't help but wish that she'd stop getting her hopes up, because I really don't want to give her false hope. I'm not being an arrogant buffoon who just assumes that she's into me. I'm just pointing out the painfully obvious: I'm hurting the most special friend I've had thus far in my life, and the only way to take away the pain is to lie. I don't love her. I don't know if I can, but at this point, I probably can't. Pretending to love her may be a stopgap measure of sorts, but in the end, it won't work if it's all a sham.

I sometimes feel guilty whenever she jokingly asks me about the latest developments between me and Sarah. I know she's trying to strike up a conversation, but it hurts her when she does it. Even then, it's not like I'm sure about Sarah, anyways. I'm at a point right now where committing myself is the last thing I'd want to do. Let things remain open. It's safer that way, and it leaves the possibility for something even better to come along. I've been hurt too many times in the past. No point in welcoming even more pain with open arms.

I'm too young to be thinking of forever, truth be told. I'm being honest when I say that fear has held me back way too many times. It's sad, but I can't change that.

Despite everything everyone says, I'm still undeniably human. In the end, even if I highly doubt the possibility of us ever being together, I have to admit one thing…

I definitely need her in my life, in whatever capacity that may be. She's that inexplicable bright spot in my day no matter how bad it gets.

.:Drained:.

I have so many ideas swimming in my head, and I can't write them out. Sigh... such a bad, bad case of writer's block... hopefully, one dry spell that I can deal with soon enough...

Even then, I'm nearing fifteen quality poems already. I just need to give a good title to them. I'm leaning towards an homage to Maroon 5, for no apparent reason. How does “Poems for Jane” grab you?

.:Suspicion:.

I have this sinking feeling that I'm not too welcome on the Seventh Realm forums... oh, well. What else is new?

.:Tamagotchi Baby:.

Hearing this song from the Eraserheads really made me just feel rather odd... or am I just putting way too much meaning into everything that's remotely connected to Japan?

Anyways, the reply when I said the said song reminded me of her...

Feed me! Preferably with chocolate! ;)

My retort...

Sure. Just swing by before December, and I'll treat you to the Manila Peninsula chocolate buffet.

Oh, I'm sorry. You can't? Well, that's just too bad, isn't it? ::/taunt::

.:Owwwwww!!!:.

So Grace convinced me to have a couple of sessions with a dermatologist, and at first, the treatment seemed okay. They were putting stuff on my face that felt cool, and it was a light facial massage for the most part.

And then, next thing I knew, it felt like someone was stabbing my face repeatedly. It hurt like Hades, to say the least.

Hopefully, the slight improvement to my... visage was worth the extreme amount of pain that was... err... inflicted on me.

I asked my mom to sponsor this endeavor... and then I SMSed her...

Aray... ang sakit nung treatment. Parang sinasaksak ng paulit-ulit ang mukha ko...

The reply...

Hahaha! Ang arte mo, eh. Di tiisin mo!

Crazy mom... heh.

.:Online Trading:.

I'm trying to get my hands on some good Magic cards... hopefully, I can manage to get someone to trade with online through OB. It'd really work to my favor to have a direct source from the States... it'd be extremely convenient, to say the least, especially once I start gunning for the Power 9 cards...