Guilt

Today, you'll be compelled to ask me if I'm okay. And I will respond by saying, "I am well. I feel great." Later, you'll wonder if I meant what I said, because you have seen me at the peak of emotional suffering. Of course, we've never talked about it--how you've seen me breaking down while waiting for the bus. And I would have explained myself had you asked. I would have told you some lie you'll feel comfortable with, and you'll go home assuring yourself that I'll make it to the next day.

I tell you now, that's not the best way to clear your soul.

You can believe you're doing the right thing. And the world will agree with you. But that gnawing discomfort, that persistent ache, that niggling sensation of what you feel could be doubt...believe that at that moment, my heart is lodging complaints against the heavens. And no force on this earth, is strong enough to break the chain that links my pain to your guilty conscience.

IdeaL-ist 3

I'm going to try a different format this time, mostly because I'm lazy, and for reasons I'd rather not say--(Translation: I'm way too lazy to be bothered). So here goes...

QUIRKS

1. Has to know when to pick a fight, and when to shut up
2. Shouldn't care too much about what others' think
3. Is respectful to both our families
4. Can relate to my taste in music
5. Appreciates my sense of humor
6. Can bust a move when the situation calls for it
7. Is good in bed (or is at least willing to learn)
8. Should have read a variety of books, enough to have an opinion on my writings
9. Is romantic, but not in any cheesy/puke-worthy way
10. Loves to run his fingers through my hair
11. Can play a musical instrument (piano or violin are my top choices)
12. Will feed me sweets (especially when I'm blue and emo)
13. Does not object to public displays of affection
14. Should have tricks up his sleeve
15. Has a healthy appreciation of women, but should not deliberately attempt to make me jealous

--end post, full force slack-off mode--

IdeaL-ist 2

Okay, I'm really bored writing about "the one," at least when the subject is about his looks. Needless to say, I AM angling for a cute one. And no, I don't need a handsome guy, too much trouble, and far more damaging to my state of mind. He just needs to be cute, or cute enough so that my gag reflex is kept in check. Moving on, let's discuss his . . .

PERSONALITY
There's this guy in 1% of Anything--good enough k-drama, even with the not-so-strong plot. Okay I digress (I do that quite alot, which is why ICHI* needs to be quick-witted enough to keep up with the frequent subject changes.) Anyways, this guy played by the ever-charming Kang Dong Won, is quite a character. Most women say they don't like a jealous guy. But me, I'm quite different in that aspect. I'd like a guy to have jealous fits, and feel totally human and vulnerable. A boy acting stupid because he's jealous, can be quite adorable. And of course, I'd like to know (constantly) who I am to the guy. Yes, I'm quite insecure. (Shut it, haters!!!) My point is, I'm okay with the jealousy bits. But if he turns violent, I'll put him out on the streets. Make no mistake about it.

And then there's the gold standard of dream boyfriends, Jim Halpert. What's not to like? He's funny, he's witty, he's a good friend, and he's sensitive but not in the I'm-looking-for-my-inner-child sort of way. Only thing I don't like about him is his indecisiveness. But then again, if a guy is like "I have the answer to everything," to hell with him! I'll deal with a bit of fence-sitting over yabang anytime.

Sidenote: I really don't want to be detailed, because a big part of me wants to be surprised. A part of enjoying the relationship comes from discovering a new thing about your partner every once in a while. Maybe this is an excuse to stop writing about this altogether, but I feel the list needs to be completed.

Till the next installment . . .

IdeaL-ist

The last time I attempted to write such a list was way back in college. Hopefully, by this time, I had gained enough "experience" to revise where I had erred. If my naivete got the better of me, I guess there's no excuse now, not to correct those foolish notions . . .

LOOKS

Those who know me are aware of my preference for chinito boys. That has not changed. But now that I am growing quite long in the tooth, I guess I need to relax my standards just a tad. However, I still require the guy to be taller than me, as I do not want my children to be midgets. Of course, I wouldn't want the guy to be a giant--if he's a head taller than me, that would be perfect.

For some reason (maybe narcissism on my part), I have the hots for guys who wear glasses. I like guys who at least give the appearance of being smart if I can't have the genuine thing. My mom can certainly pick up on these things. And I do not want the guy to suffer from extreme prejudice.

Whereas I used to like boys with fair coloring, I must say I'm leaning towards tan these days. It just looks healthier. But then again, I wouldn't want Mr. Perfect to be orange. That would be really creepy. Oh, and if he doesn't have excess hair where hair shouldn't be growing, he and I are going to get along just fine. Teddy bears are cute but I wouldn't be caught dead canoodling with one. :)

Porma-wise, I'm not that picky when it comes to how he dresses himself, just as long as he looks put together, and he regularly takes a bath. He can be vain, but definitely no vainer than me, or any of the girly-girls I know. He should also be amenable to makeovers (by yours truly), especially if he's being a dork, is growing facial hair, a mullet, or any fashion crime that offends my sensibilities. Oh, and I hope he's not going to go bald in a couple of years. I know it's a genetics issue, but please, no comb-overs, hair-plugs, wigs, and any weird hair contraption or add-ons from home tv shopping networks. If I work hard on looking good, this guy should also make some effort to look presentable.

(Part 2, later . . .)

I'm Just Saying

I'm telling you now, you don't want me to be the girl that got away. I understand there's a reason to be confused, but if you give me up, you will lose your chance at happiness. Understand, that this is not arrogance. I am simply convinced with all the faith that is in me--we are meant to be. If I should stake everything on you, nothing, not even you can stop me. Listen to this, and listen well. You, like many men before you, do not have the slightest clue what is best for you. Do not think, that I am taking your choice away from you. I'm just saying . . . the best is right in front of you.

Useless

If you know how many times I vow to forget you, you'll understand why I'm such a liar now. And if you possess a conscience, you'll begin to appreciate the motivations for my actions. You are the last five pounds I want to shed, the last cigarette I promise to give up, and every bad habit I intend to break.

It's no coincidence that I doubt myself today . . . I am filtering myself through your consciousness. Hating you, quitting you, and admitting that I still need you are some of the hardest things I deal with everyday.

This is schizophrenia.

Where Are You?

“An embrace from him left scratches on my back that sometimes wept blood, yet my brothers and I fought to be the first in his arms when he returned from work each evening."
--Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal, Christopher Moore

Truth is, I miss you. And there are days when missing you seems to take away from everything I have ever liked about myself. I am surprised. Because the waves of summer make me realize that I can miss you without asking anything from you; that I can miss you without plunging myself in existential angst; that I can miss you even if I do not feel blessed, or punished, or loved, or hated . . .

I understand that constantly questioning your reality, may not be the best way to ingratiate myself in your favor. Or maybe that's my selfish perspective in operation--that blessings are bestowed based on a point-reward system. But I am sure, that your silence is the most painful moment in my life so far. And I cannot function, not in the way that would make me, me.

So where are you? And how can you, in your infinite mercy and kindness hide your presence from me? Am I being taught a lesson? Am I being shunned? If so, what can I do about it? Do I wait it out? Do I force your hand? Do I need to plead, cajole, coerce, and connive to get you to notice me?

I miss you, because I'm still here, because I'm still human, because I can't stop believing in you.