An Awkward KISS

...and oh! he wasn't a prince. I almost remembered how I find him cute in the office. Except that night when he was roaming around with a glass of long island in his hand.

It wouldn't be too awkward if we were not office mates. But we are!
And the thing is, I get to see his serious face all the time.

No, he wasn't a frog at all. He has always been this mysterious looking guy who I never dare to meet eyes with in the office.

It was dark and the music turned everybody crazy. We both had a heavy head driven by alcohol. I don't quite remember how we ended up to a certain place together, hidden from everybody else.
He approached me, talked to me-and the moment after were not remembered until he grabbed me on the hand and I tripped to his lap and he nibbled his lips on mine- twice, trying to get a response. It was similar to a smack.
I remember pushing him away as I walk back to the crowd.

It was awkward
....and every moment after is even worse. I wanted to talk to him about it for the shame that he might mention about that night to someone. But the thought of whether he remembers it or not- makes me pause.

Well, he certainly wasn't a prince. So, I was kissed by a frog. And it's awkward.

- and yeah! I should be a more responsible drinker.


Shit happens. Geeezz.

I am Copper

Two days ago, I turned officially 29. I remember copper having the atomic number 29.
So, for the sake of my in-denial stage of being on the last year of prefix 2, allow me to say-      
 I AM COPPER. <3

If I compare my being to the features of copper, I would relate to its colours: red and orange; red depicting strong will and passion, and orange representing warmth and happiness. I will be kind to myself and claim that I have been my strongest, warmest and happiest for the past nine years and counting- not only for myself, but mainly for the people I love.

Copper yields with other elements to form vintage ornaments, classic architectures, currencies, and even sophisticated accessories. Like copper, I yield for I know that I should (as I age) turn myself into something useful and productive; a teacher, a call center agent, a service crew, a guidance counselor, a personal assistant, a lover, a friend, a sister, a daughter.  I have become my most resourceful self and have posed confidence to bring happiness to people dear to me.

Copper produces a brown-black copper oxide, which unlike rust, protects the underlying copper from extensive corrosion. This distinctive characteristic of copper, somehow represents the misunderstood me. People would easily judge my intention s and actions. They don’t see my motive of bringing love and warmth. In the end I stand up victorious, with my actions not needing explanation as the end justifies the mean.

I am neither gold nor silver. I am copper with my unique crystallites. I stand tall and confident and perform with pride. I am never defeated for I don’t compete.
Being copper made me sentimental of the months and years that passed, and all of the beautiful things I had during my twenties. I surprisingly thought of all the rain and sun I walked under.

I started to recount all the cheers of January; the leaves in waltz of February; the sun-kissed fields of March; the buds of April; the petals of May; the morning breeze of June, the dew drops of July; the rain showers of August; the soaked earth of September; the festivities of October; the serene afternoons of November; and the melodies of December. More so, it is bliss to grasp how each moment tried to remind of how special and loved I was and am.

I appreciated the splendor of the sweet little possessions I always have- family, friends, school, the neighborhood, my hometown and the priceless memories that come with them.

Ah! -- too much richness to be grateful for.

The journey continues. Like copper, I will endure being meek. I will persist to be strong-willed, with a faith bigger than my aspirations.

Contented,

herMaJessT

INAPPROPRIATE AFFINITY

        I stumbled into the term Pseudo-relationship from a nobody's blog. Pseudo relationship: fling, unofficial, make-believe. Whatever they may want to call it.
        There were two men who made me embrace this fling I would prefer to call "friendship".
      I attribute my entanglement in this fling as a result of the feeling of gloominess. And yeah, my being impatient, too. It's like spoiling myself with sweets because it gives me happiness- setting aside the fact that I suffer from the extra calories afterwards.
     Could have been simple if not of the impressive qualities of the guy I fling with. I love every little thing, and even those I do not like- I learn to appreciate. I would not say he is close to my standard--but he surmounts the level of hysteria I felt with my ex's.
      It's his charismatic peculiarity that makes him appeal more to me. Being with him is feeling something for the first time. The only thing is, he fill my hours with what if's and could have-been's when he's not around. Something that sucks the cheer off of me.
   
        I have played the game NOT FALLING IN LOVE a few times.

        With this said, I am not a stranger to LEAVING and BEING LEFT.  I would say I am the kind of person who puts mind over emotion.
       Meanwhile, the getting accustomed to an easy come -easy go experience doesn't keep me safe from feeling empty and unloved. It also doesn't guarantee my heart not feeling anything just because my mind said it shouldn't.
     With every intimacy I hold on to, I become used to not think of where things are heading. I enjoy the moment. Not thinking of tomorrows.
     It's this feeling of knowing that somebody near shares the same affection as I do. that look in the eyes; the warmth of a caress on my back; the feeling of the air he breathes out on a nose to nose. the thrill of the stare; the chill of the touch.
      The confidentiality of an unspoken intellectual agreement brings about so much words in between glances. The excitement of being just next to someone who I actually believe is attracted in the same way as I am in all of desire's entirety-- physically, emotionally, or even sexually.
      The fact that our thoughts are both headed in the same direction, contains my empty soul with butterflies, and hopping kangaroos, and whatsoever.

    It's a mistake and a decision that fills my empty cup with momentary joy.

    Hoping to find someone like him. For real.



No regrets.

-herMajessT