I felt really bad about my blogging in 2013, to be honest. It was the lowest output I ever had in the 11 years I've been blogging, and I was very disappointed that I couldn't put a lot of my thoughts down, and all because I let my writing for the 8List take over.
Well, not this year.
I've done a Magic Project 365, and then a Music Project 52, and finally, an Essay Project 52. Needless to say, out of those three, the easiest one to do was definitely the last one, since I am an opinionated prat and all that. So here I am.
So yeah, I guess that means my blog post about my trip to Singapore, and even some of my other musings, will definitely make it on this blog, just not yet, since I want to do this Project 52 as religiously as I can.
In any case, anyone still remember that song, called "I Love You Came Too Late?"
Hades, anyone remember him at all, even?
I've been musing about that lately. How sometimes, you miss out on opportunities in your life because you dilly-dallied a little bit too much, and in the end, your "what if" gets answered by a "no" by default. It's interesting, really. Up to what point do you push your luck? How long do you wait when people around you tell you it's "too soon" to make a move?
And then, when you finally muster up the courage to tell someone how you really feel, the words "I'm sorry, but I'm seeing someone already" just tumble out of her mouth, and you don't quite know how to take it. A part of you is relieved that you don't have to deal with rejection as head-on, but another part of you feels terrible that you didn't act when you had the chance.
"I love you" came too late, indeed. In fact, you never even got there.
But here's the awkward part for you, and the riddle you need to figure out for yourself: where do you go from there? Now, you find yourself at a point where you second-guess everything you do, and you end up wondering where that will lead you. After all, sure, you can be all business as usual, but now, there's that nagging pang in your gut every time you meet, and it just refuses to go away. It gnaws at you relentlessly. It drives you nuts. And at some point, something has to give.
There are times I feel like I'm the master of bad timing. I always find myself in situations where the moment I choose to act is either too soon or too late, and it tends to blow up in my face, as the hits would keep on coming. They're busy, they're heartbroken, they're in a bad mood, they just found someone new, or whatever else. And yes, perhaps some of these are merely polite euphemisms for actual rejection. Even then, it's only testament to the fact that getting it right is never as easy as the movies insist it would be.
So now, I'm here. Frustrated with myself, because I recognize fully well that I have no right to get angry at anyone else. So I may as well take it out on the one person who's at fault, right? Let's face it: the one thing in common with all your failed relationships or non-relationships is always you. So if there's a metric f*ckton of them staring you down, then maybe that's also because you're a kilometric f*ck-up.
I'm tired, really. And I don't know why the hopeless romantic in me insists I'll make it through this and it'll all be better soon. It shouldn't be this way. My smile should not be entirely dependent on having someone beside me to see me smile.
And yet, lo and behold, here we are, in that very situation I so utterly despise. Because "I love you" came too late. Or too early. But when did it ever come at the right time, anyways?
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