One last thought

To: You

I guess sometimes the thing that you want the most is the one thing you cannot have. Know that I have never been kidding when I said that I would (and in some ways I have) sacrifice anything, everything for you, because you and me, us and we, and our always, mean that much to me. Desire, I guess, wears us out, leaves us broken. Desire, I guess, can wreck a life. But you know, as tough as wanting something can be, I think the people who suffer the most are those who don't know what they want or worse don't do what is necessary to get what they want. In the best possible way, you have absolutely wrecked me, because you see, I fell in love with you, always with a feeling deep down that there was very little chance of my ever being with you for that "always". Definition of insanity? I guess. But holding true the adage that love and win is the best thing; to love and lose, the next best thing - because at least I loved you with a love unsurpassed and never to be duplicated, completely and without limits, with a depth that not even poets have been able to capture or even describe.

I wish you happiness. I wish you joy. I wish you grace. I hope that your life leaves you filled with overflowing with all that you had hoped, surpassing your every expectation. There is a wonderful benediction that goes something like: "My wish for you: comfort on difficult days, smiles when sadness intrudes, rainbows to follow the clouds, laughter to kiss your lips, sunset to warm your heart, hugs when spirits sag, beauty for your eyes to see, friendships to brighten your being, a heart warmed by family and friends, faith so that you can believe, confidence when you doubt, courage to know yourself, patience to accept the truth, and finally love to complete your life." I do wish all those things for you. 

I will miss telling you what you mean to me, which is nothing less than what you mean to the world. I will miss finding new and wonderful ways to express my every feelings and thoughts which were numerous, deep and consuming. I will miss telling you how incredible, intelligent, dorky, kind hearted and inspiring you are. You will always find a way to my heart, and no matter what, I will always love you...whether these are three simple words or a statement to you. But while I will hope for the day when you come to me and say "I am yours, for always.", I will choose to move on and to not let my fear of accepting reciprocated feelings stop me from choosing to constantly love others. I don't believe in happy endings, but rather in happy beginnings.

S.  

Confession Part III

                                                                                       *credits Alice

I could tell you what he looked like--his height and physique and the way the contours of his body felt close to mine in the dark; the shape and exact color of his eyes and how they looked when he was happy, sad, pissed, or passionate.; the lines of his forearms, biceps, shoulders, and elbows; the curve of his lips and the feel of his mouth against mine; and what his back, his hips, and legs felt like beneath my fingertips. I could tell you what he smelled like and what he tasted like. I could pick his voice out in a crowd at Times Square on New Year's Eve. Even all this time after the end, I could close my eyes and remember every details of him, as clearly as if he were right in front of me.

But what would be the point in describing all that? All it could do--all it could possibly do--is diminish the whole into a rearrangement of features you would never see the way I saw them. He's sound like your neighbor, or your brother, or that guy you work with, or some other person you couldn't possibly imagine inspiring an unending ache in someone's heart.

Everyone has a first love, one person they never completely got over, right? Picture yours.

Because when you come down to it, it isn't really anything about the way they look that distinguishes them in your memory--hair color, physical shape, style--it can all change with time. It's the way you remember feeling when you looked at them.

When I looked at him, I felt real, unconditional love. And I felt completely loved in all sense of the word. He was the only person I ever met whose soul I could clearly see in his eyes. And I had more faith in him than I've had in any other human being.

After it ended, on the rare occasions when I saw him, I could feel the shape, the moving embodiment, of the hole in my heart. Not that my life was about that. I moved on, of course. Dated, occasional flings, worked, studied, ate, drank, laughed, and cried. Things happen, life goes on, and you have to keep moving and think about what's in front of you or you'll go insane.

So I pushed the part of me that belonged to him way beneath the surface. Just like he did with me.

No one would ever have imagine this part of me existed at all, that a piece of my heart deep down was broken beyond repair, or that that guy--the guy who could have been anyone (or no one) to you or the rest of the world--was the cause of it all.

Yet despite all of that he was the only guy I was ever truly in love with and I believe with absolute certainty that these feelings will never be duplicated. 

The Fight for Love

I was on the phone with a friend the other day trying to determine the intent behind a text message that simply read, “cool.” A few days prior she had had a few glasses of wine and, against her better judgment, told someone she was seeing via text message that she really likes him. “Cool” was his response, and it was driving her insane.

She couldn’t for the life of her decipher whether “cool” had a positive or negative connotation. For a good half-hour we debated: Is it loving or nonchalant? To the point or a little too passive? I pointed out that the real problem was that “cool” wasn’t punctuated; there was no period or exclamation mark or ellipsis, just the naked word sitting there on her phone taunting her with its ambiguity.

It’s hard to watch your friends in times like that, mainly because we’ve all been there before—head over feet, self-compromisingly “in love” with someone who just isn’t giving you enough. Still, you keep pushing forward.What’s most tragic about this situation is that my friend is, in most cases, a composed, level-headed fountain of wisdom and insight. And yet, for some reason, this one word was the snag that unravelled the whole sweater.

Somewhere, some time ago, someone told us that we need to fight for our relationships. That genius,  much like my friend’s “cool” maybe-boyfriend, needed to be a bit more specific about what that implies, because it’s under that ideology that I think a lot of us end up making our biggest mistakes— we lose sight of what we’re actually fighting for.

I often liken my love life to the pathetic fallacy found in a Bronte novel: a long and winding road tented by storm clouds and rain. Kidding. But give me a few more years and we’ll revisit that analogy. I can say that it hasn’t been easy, though. And that’s primarily because I often confuse “fighting for it” with fighting for a person. Therein lies the misconception: To fight for a relationship should involve both parties actively trying to make it work. So often, however, the fight is one-sided, with someone struggling to hold on to a person instead of a relationship. And once you’ve started down that path, it’s hard to find the perspective to evaluate your actions with a clear head and an open mind.

It also doesn’t help that I have a friend who is the exception to the rule, the one person who fought for someone and won. The problem is that stories like hers happen to one in a million, so while I’m undeniably inspired by it, I also can’t help but resent them for statistically screwing over the rest of us.

The reality is, for the most part, if you’re fighting that hard and not seeing any real, tangible results, you’re fighting a losing battle. And not to sound all self-help book-y about it, but we’re better than that.That’s why, when we find ourselves hunched over a cellphone trying to solve that all too familiar text puzzle, we should really be spending that time trying to decide whether that text is even worth the analysis in the first place. From my experience, it’s not. Rarely is.

That’s not to say that we shouldn’t try; some people need winning over. Still there’s a fine line between indulging in the thrill of the chase and putting ourselves second for someone else. The line is chickenwire thin, but at least if we’re aware of it we may step more cautiously. It’s at that point that we’re able to glance down at our buzzing cellphones, read some ambiguously nondescript text message and have the clarity and self-assuredness to casually respond, “cool.”

What You Learn After Your First Heartbreak

2AM -- There are some who are dreaming of a beautiful world better than reality and there are some who are partying their life away like it's the end of the world. For me, this is the time where I do my best thinking and when I feel extremely nostalgic. In the past I have often asked questions that led to no answers. But as the saying goes: "Things happen for a reason." Those so-called things became life lessons that I now hold dear.  

After your first heartbreak you learn not to assume things. You learn not to assume that the day you spent together in bed and took photos of each other against that white wall was important to both of you. In reality, only one of you will ever care about that day. Only one of you will flinch when you see the white wall again. The other person will forget it ever happened. You’ll have to remind them, months or even years later when you meet for coffee, about the pictures and you’ll feel so stupid for holding it so dear. Why do you have to be the one who remembers that day? You assumed that your memories would be the same. You didn't know that one gets to forget and the other has to remember.

You learn that the person who once protected you from all harm could one day become the harm. They could become the thing they spent so much time shielding you from. That’s how it always seems to work though, doesn't it? We give people power over our lives, we let them dictate the rhythms, and then we act surprised when there’s scratches.

You learn about the cruelty of time, the cruelty of fickleness. You learn that it’s possible for the person who knew you the best to eventually know nothing at all. You counted on them always knowing. You took solace in someone keeping score. But reliance is the first thing to go in a break up. You lose the right to call someone. You lose the right to ask how they’re doing. Imagine that. One day you had a VIP pass to their life and the next, you’re shut out completely. They’ll tell their grandma more things than they’d tell you.

You learn how bad heartbreak can hurt. All of a sudden you’ll be relating to sad love songs and feeling like such a chump. You listened to them before but never quite understood why they had so much resonance with people. Then you realized that it’s strictly for people who’ve dealt with the loss of love. To get the full effect of an Adele song, someone has to take an emotional dump on your face. Otherwise you’ll just be like “Gee, this lady sure sounds sad!

You’ll learn terrifying things about yourself. Most notably, the fact that heartbreak will turn you insane and obsessive. It makes you irrational and cripplingly nostalgic.  (Your friends will even get fed up with you for a bit because you’re so cray cray.)  There’s no real way to fix a broken heart other than time and sleeping with the next person you could potentially love. It takes someone’s else dick to get over the last one. 

Most importantly, you’ll learn that it will all be okay in the end. Just like time killed your relationship, it will also be the thing that repairs you. Eventually enough time will pass that you’ll have nothing left to mourn. You’ll develop Swiss cheese holes in your memory about the relationship. All you’ll recall are occasional flashes of happiness and feel grateful for it. You understand that this is just how life works. You fall in and out of love with people until you land somewhere that makes sense. You’ve learned a new secret about life and people. You get it now.

It’s bitter to know. It’s better to know.

(photo credit: Marlène G)

10 Seconds Update

I would usually elaborate more when it comes to writing a post on this blog as we all know, but being in the mist of finals week (sleepless, crazy hours of nonstop studying) I'll just write these few words to say that I'm still alive and I'm breathing. I know I'm long overdue for an update even though there's is not much to say about my plain'ole life. But with the beautiful season coming its way to the city, you'll definitely be hearing more about me and seeing more updates in the next coming weeks. Taking a short study break to write this is making me realize how much I miss being on here. I'll be back pronto, promise! :)

Updates:

- I'm currently playing the patience games with school... Dunno how long (or how much) it will take for it to break me down. But as of now I'm simply tolerating it. Baby steps they say...

- Lots of changes in the job aspect this past month. All in all, I'm A LOT happier now. 

- Men... -big fat sigh-  

- In case you were living under a rock this entire time, but JT aka the-man-of-my-life-since-i-was-a-prepubescent-teen made a comeback this year. He's simply flawless...

Throwback Thursday

Strangely enough, I've never really paid attention to the lyrics up until now. As silly as it sounds, it triggered a part of me that I thought I had forever buried...   

Muses

I've never believed that one person can stick to one style since trends changes throughout the season which is why I have never really settle myself on a style in particular when it comes to fashion. Because of my eclectic taste I always find myself wanting to get out of my comfort zone, try different things and dare myself to think outside of the box ( feather shorts, anyone?). Of course there's also another side of me that enjoys wearing flannel pjs all day and I couldn't care less of what is in and what is out. At the end of it all, it depends on my mood. Some days I feel like being an Audrina; rocking a leather jackets, wearing motorcycle boots and head out to the nearest bar for a beer. When I'm being Chloé, I'm more conservative, a hopeless romantic and a dreamer. Emma is all about my socializing side and my life in the city; being the "it" girl that everyone wants to be friends with. My inner Olivia depicts my serious side and how I picture myself in the near future: career oriented, professional and involved in the high fashion industry. She is ready to take over Vogue magazine (hehe)  

Rick Owen leather jacket, Helmut Lang asymmetrical tshirt, Victoria Beckham leather legging, Alexander Wang studded Diego bucket bag, John Galliano "Parlez-moi d'Amour" Eau de Parfum, Hermès Collier de Chien leather cuff, Surface to Air wedge leather boots.

Ralph Lauren navy cashmere sweater, Sandro pleaded silk maxi skirt, Mulberry thin leather belt, Cutler & Gross cat eye glasses, Michael Kors midsize runway gold watch, Yves Saint Lauren Rouge Pur Couture in Le Orange, Chloé Marcie bag, Stella McCartney Brocade ballet flats. 

Haute Hippie faux fur vest, Aubin&Wills stipped cotton tshirt, 7 For All Mankind jeans, Milly clutch, Deborah Lippman polish in Supermodel, Philippe Audibert studded cuff, Marc by Marc Jacobs shoes, Eugenia Kim suede fedora.   

Maison Martin Margiela silk tux blazer, Alexander McQueen wool jersey dress, Smythson Runway leather notebook, Linda Farrow Luxe D-frame sunglasses, Emilio Pucci beaded silk clutch, Chanel No.5 Parfum, Valentino suede and studded metal pumps. 

Five Things: Small Luxury

The week started unexpectedly on a high note. I've never been keen to last minute plans, but I would have to say I didn't regret saying yes when an old friend of mine invited me to go out Sunday night. If it wasn't the fact that I knew him so well, I would have probably stayed in my pjs and went to bed early that day. Not only did I have a great time mingling and meeting different people I finally gave myself a well deserved 12 hour "beauty sleep" after spending an entire week waking up at 5am everyday for classes and appointments. I would have to say that drinking champagne the night prior has its benefits... :)    

Since I might not be celebrating my birthday this year, my friend decided to spoil me with a bottle of Louis Roederer 2004 Crystal Champagne. Early birthday gift he says.

Homemade comfort food at its best - Gratinée à l'oignon aka French Onion Soup (Yes, I burnt it a bit under the broiler. It was delicious nonetheless.)

M.A.C Cosmetics x Marilyn Monroe launch party invitation. Can't wait! 

My staple lifestyle and entertainment guide by an inspiring (and one of my favorite) blogger, Emily Schuman.

Newest hangout place every Thursday afternoon: Cacao 70