Accidental eavesdropper

It’s funny how you end up reading someone else’s thoughts – someone you don’t really know talking about you. It’s quite interesting to see a different side of yourself, straight from a stranger’s perspective. I don’t know how to take it, really.

Years ago, I came across this blog entry posted by my ex’s then girlfriend talking about me, about her trip down her then boyfriend’s memory lane via Friendster, and how she came about seeing my old posts – her boyfriend’s ex:

And so I did, and was amazed to see how his profile was literally flooded with love notes/ quotes and pics from his ex, who I believed, loved him the most.

I always feel this pressure of being a strong and independent icon of womanhood, and without making it look my whole life is revolving around some guy. But loving someone, and being loved means so much to me. We always make fun of it and stuff. But isn’t everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more? (Celine, Before Sunrise)Reading messages of love from a person who used to share one soul with a person who you are currently committed to can be mildly excruciating. I expected it, but I hadn’t realize how irritatingly painful it can be to peek into your man’s past…because it will only make you realize how love can be so transient and so unpredictable.

She loved him so deeply. She was deeply hurt. She gave her all- her world revolved around him.
She was 21, 22 years old back then.

I saw my 21-year-old self in her- the fresh graduate with high hopes and lofty dreams, the college achiever who had everything but the perfect love life she aspires for. I was that girl too. And like her, I had given my heart as freely as the wind. We were cohorts. Once in our lives, we felt that we could control the events that surround us, we thought that we could orchestrate our own ideal version of a perfect love life, we believed that we were indispensable.

Recently, these words came to mind again.

The funny part, the scary part is – I never really stopped being the girl she described. I’ve always been an idealist when it comes to my personal relationships. I never learn. I get beaten down by experience but I always manage to come back right around again – or yes, maybe sometimes I’m the one beating really good relationships down, but still nothing changes.

I’ve always been the hopeful one, the wide-eyed daydreamer, the girl who makes love her priority. I know – what a juvenile thought but tell me, how else should one live? A friend tells me to stop being idealistic so I wouldn’t get hurt so much when my expections aren’t met. I wish it could be that easy for me to adjust but three, four years after, I’m still the same idealist. I still want to believe we are all capable of coming up with a crazy, fun, imperfect but a most meaningful relationship.

I always want to believe I’m this close to finding that. I want to believe I’ve found it. Crazy thoughts, I know but isn’t that just what we’re all looking for?

Ahh, talk about putting your heart on your sleeve.

Reposting this:

I always feel this pressure of being a strong and independent icon of womanhood, and without making it look my whole life is revolving around some guy. But loving someone, and being loved means so much to me. We always make fun of it and stuff. But isn’t everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more? (Celine, Before Sunrise)

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