Confession Number Two

Actually, this is kind of like a continuation to the first confession.

As I was browsing through the posts on my Facebook account, I happen to see the latest pictures of him with her. And after all those things he said to me, after all those wishes and hopes and prayers, after all those journal pages, it all comes down to this.

And when I look at the smile on that other girl's face, I can't help but become bitter.

When bad things happen to us, we need to point our fingers on someone to make us feel better, at least for a while. It's like human nature or something.

So, here I go saying, I envy girls who receive flowers. I envy girls who receive text messages from the guy they like. I envy girls who aren't stupidly shy to hang around with the opposite sex. I envy girls who experience holding hands and late night phone calls and star-gazing and moonlight dancing and hugs. I envy girls who don't need to bring their heavy bags or pick up the piece of paper that they drop on the floor--the Prince Charmings can do those things for them, obviously. I envy girls who get the seriousness from guys. I envy girls who take no effort to attract somebody because every person seems to be attracted to them anyway. I envy girls who know the right things to say for a guy to call them the one. I envy those girls--yes, those girls who get a lot of fishes in the sea. And sometimes, I hate them. For taking all the fishes and leaving me with none. And so I starve. As for them, they eat those fishes. And they're not even finish with one, they throw it away already, and start eating another. They don't realize how lucky they are that they are not one of those unfortunate few who starve. Who crave for a fish for her own. They don't realize that because they are so much blessed with plenty.

Often times I feel like waiting in a room together with millions of other girls. We wait for our names to be called. We anticipate for it. Because we know that once we are called, a beautiful love life is about to start for us. And every single day that passes by, two or three girls get called. And still I sit there. My butt aches from too much sitting. But I can't stand up because I know that if I do, I might lose my chance to be called. It was the rule, see. We can choose to stand from our chairs and continue on with our lives, or we can choose to sit there and just wait for our names to be called. In my life, I chose to sit. I know I was better off doing other things while I wait--sky dive, impress a professor, be a beauty queen...anything. See, it does not exactly guarantee that once you leave that room, you'll never get called. But I still I refuse. I can't take chances. I can't leave. I must be ready, when I get called. I can't distract myself. I need to focus on this. I. need. to. be. inside. that. room.

My anticipation to be called has so taken over me.

I may sound so irrational, but you would understand if you know how much I want this. Being called is the one thing I want most to happen in my life. More than anything else, I want to hear my name and enter romance land. This is just how bad I want this. Yes, it hurts. My butt hurts. I am bored. Add to that the excruciating feeling you get when another name gets called and not yours. And every day you see more and more empty chairs and you're still there. It just cuts you into a million pieces.

But if that's really what it takes to find love, then fine with me.


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