On moving on

Yet spells of melancholy randomly hits...

Its difficult to move on. It's not like you willfully chose to feel bad, unless you're a masochist of some sort, you wouldn't. You can’t say when it hits you. The feelings of desperation, anxiety, helplessness, stupidity and remorse just kicks in.

The trigger? A random memory I vaguely even remember. "Do you remember what you were doing last valentine’s day?" My friend asks, and as I try to recall, she tells me that that girl and I were together that day. And all of a sudden, I remembered. What I was wearing. What she was wearing. The people who were there and where it happened.  It wasn’t that big of a deal at that time. Sure, we shared the same space that evening, yet there was nothing romantic about that night. I've already liked this for a while, and I was just happy to spend that day with her and thankful to Christ I was able to do so. Nothing more.

Then why the hell am I feeling shit at this exact moment? Nakakabwisit lang. These near meaningless memories tied to a near meaningless event in someone else’s life. Yet my mind stitches these fragments together as if they were part of a beautiful story.

I already know there is nothing beautiful at the end of this story. I already know it will not work out. I already know that this is utter bullshit.

Multiple intelligence. It’s a blessing and a bane. When they work together they produce a sweet, melodic and brilliant tune but on days like this, the mental noise one off key element makes can rip you apart or drive you insane. For now, the heart wails its repetitive and somber song. It is unwilling to let go of the sadness it has rediscovered. The ego has already dropped its machismo act of armoring up and is already at peace. The mind is scrambling to find solutions to this unsettled disposition, and finds no answers or cure. The will has chosen not to fight anymore and just sits this one out.

I breathe deeper. I write in search of answers as I key in the words. My mind tries to console my heart, reminding it of shallower stories that helped it weather similar disappointing situations. As these moments replay in my mind’s eye and as I type this, my heart simply persists with what it wants to feel. I breathe out.

This journal entry will reach the blogosphere. Again, an entry with no solution at hand. I share this in hopes that someone else finds comfort in the words found in this post. The only consuelo i see for sharing this. This could turn out to be a long night...

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