Songs that made cry,
They remind me of the pain.
The heart hurts no more.
—-
Panglao, Bohol, Philippnes
—-
T.
Xiamen Gaoqi Airport
—–
T.
——
When I was younger, “ghosting” was not the term for when someone you had been chatting or texting with all of a sudden went quiet.
As an older person who has experienced being ghosted and ghosting someone, I realize “ghosting” is merely a one-sided view of the situation. The one who stops texting (A) does not think of her “indifference”as “ghosting” as she is just living her life. She does not see the need to text or contact because she is busy with other things.
If the other person she has been texting with (B) also has a busy life, her (A’s) absence or silence will not be an issue. But if B relies heavily on A’s “company,” then B will definitely see A’s silence as “ghosting.”
Is someone “ghosting” you? Or you just need more friends? 😉
Have a fun-filled weekend!
T.
Sunset in Jimei
The bottle will remain unopened.
That pack of cigarettes will stay unsmoked.
Those cheesecakes calling me as I walk past the bakery will be ignored.
And the backups won’t be hearing from me anytime soon.
For as long as there’s a teeny bit of will left in me…
You’re not winning again.
Not today.
——
Be strong. You are loved. ♥️
T.
Saw these lovely hydrangeas by the roadside in Vancouver
Though the last time I broke up with anybody was over 15 years ago, I can’t help but be reminded of the pain of breaking up every time I log on to my Facebook and see posts about recovering from a broken heart. The pain I went through was something I will never wish on anyone, not even the people I don’t like that much. But then again, one does become stronger and smarter after a breakup.
The other day I saw this excerpt of an article that cited a theory on recovering from a failed relationship that said, “… after half the length of a relationship passes, you’ll be good as new (in other words, if you dated for a year, you’ll be fine in 6 months).” I thought it was silly. (The article did go on to say there’s no “actual science to back up the claim.”) So I thought I’d ask my Facebook friends how long it took them to get over a breakup. It was quite interesting getting answers from my friends, some of whom I have not seen in decades!
No time to cry
A few of my friends said they have no idea what a breakup is as they are happily married to their first boyfriend/girlfriend. Though some may think people like these missed out, I think my friends are truly blessed!
Getting over what?
Whereas the first group did not experience breaking up because it ended in marriage, this second group is made up of people who found someone new right after or just before the breakup, and so the excitement of meeting someone new overtook whatever little pain (or guilt?) there could be in ending the relationship.
Too cool to mope
Some people are too cerebral when it comes to relationships. Some of those I asked said it took them a week to 3 weeks to get over the relationship. Less than a month! One guy friend said to me, “The more you mope, the more you lose.” Yikes! But yes, I do admire them. I told my one friend that’s exactly the reason he has been my idol for years!
Out of sight, out of mind
Not as cerebral as the previous group, but still considering themselves too cool to mope, this group recovered in less than a year. Average is 2 months. One friend who is now happily married said she could easily forget especially if she did not see the person anymore. Hmmm.
Love hurts
The more one has given into the relationship, the more painful it is to watch it end. These relationships ended after several years of being together and, for some, having children together. Hence, letting go was not easy; but after a few years (1-10 years) they were finally able to forgive and move on. One friend said it may seem unbelievable to some that it took her ten years to move on, but that it was really true. I believed her. It took me 10 years as well.
One friend told me 15 years passed before he could say he got over his ex.
A couple of friends told me it will take a lifetime. I guess because the breakup just happened recently.
And another friend said, “We remember our exes from time to time, no matter how [much] we pretend we’re over them.” But then again, remembering is different from wishing things had not gone the way they did or that they could be the way they were.
Reading my friends’ responses to my question convinced me even more that time does heal all wounds. I know 15 years may sound like forever, but just live your life. You don’t even have to try to forget because there is no way you will forget. There will just come a time when you realize you don’t think about them anymore; that when you actually do, there’s no pain or anger anymore. It will come when you least expect it. But it will definitely come.
May you find the strength to move on. A blessed weekend!
T.
Jimei
Jimei sky on a winter noon
Introverted, routine-oriented people like me get disoriented when something not part of the routine takes place. The occasional lunch with co-workers is always a task, even though they are nice people, simply because it’s not part of my daily routine, and I always make an effort to be an interesting or even just a lively person (I personally find it rude when a person joins you for a meal and looks miserable. I’d rather that person refuse to join me for a meal than be with me looking unhappy. Hence, my effort at being an interesting/lively rather than boring companion.)
This disorientation is magnified when bigger events occur in my life, like when some 16 years ago, my then-boyfriend left the country (and me!) and all of a sudden, I was left to make plans for the day for only myself. “What will I do with this much time all to myself?” I went to work moving about like a zombie for months!
When my mother died, I felt so vulnerable whenever I remembered (actually, I still do) that I no longer have a “prayer warrior.” In the past whenever I had a problem, I would just pick up the phone and call my mother long-distance and ask her to pray for me. I know it sounds so immature for a grown woman to be depending on her mother so much, but that was all I depended on my mother for. I never asked her for anything else after graduating from university. Just prayers. Still, when she died, I was at a loss not having anyone to call to ask for prayers. I mean I could have called my sisters or some of my friends, but with my mother I was assured that her prayers were most fervent because she was praying for her youngest daughter, the only one to leave her side to work in another country.
When introverted, routine-oriented people like me are put in a new situation, we tend to have an extremely difficult time adapting to change. We may seem to look like we are coping well with the change, but deep inside, the challenge is overwhelming. Yet, we survive and I think our introversion has much to do with it. As introverts, we rely on very few people, but more important and this is most helpful, we rely on ourselves the most. Slowly we learn to start a new routine, and we recover in due time.
And we move on. In due time.
May you find the courage to adapt to change, face challenges and move on.
Happy New Year! Happy New Life!💕🎉
Yesterday I went out for a walk at about 5:15 in the morning. These days sunrise is usually around 5:30. As most of the students have already left for the summer, the campus was blissfully quiet when I walked around.
In the evening, I went out again after spending the whole day working on the computer. This time I went out of the campus. I took a picture of this new bridge that will replace the rickety temporary one that they put up after closing the old underpass, which I kind of miss because of the memory I have of the people who were always there during my first year here: the friendly fruit lady, and the old man who played the erhu, the melody of which echoed around the walls of the underpass and even above ground.
Getting back to the campus, I walked towards the west side. I took a photo of these new apartment buildings situated in what I used to think was a swamp. A taxi driver whom I’ve known for as long as I’ve been here once told us that they used to take a boat from their home on the southern part of the district to this place where these buildings are now.
For me, Jimei has changed so much in just over a decade. For the quinquagenarians and older, even more so.
Everything changes. Everyone changes.
All one can do is move on.
Have a lovely weekend!💕
T.
Dalipuga, Iligan
You let me wander,
And now I’m unmoored,
A paper boat adrift in the ocean.
Soon I’ll be soaked
And sink
Unless you change your mind
And come rescue me.
Save me.
Daily Prompt: Unmoored
I stopped communicating with my best friend #2 of 16 years, who also happens to be my ex-boyfriend for the same number of years. Whereas in the past I couldn’t last a week without talking or even just texting with him, it has been two months since we’ve had any communication. Best friend #1 who has always known and accepted my romantic-turned-fraternal relationship with M. tried to get me to, at least, ask him how he’s doing, fearing one day I would regret my silence.
I probably would regret ending this friendship, but I have to take care of myself before I can take care of others. Something was done , and I didn’t like it. My not liking it manifests itself in my actions. I cannot control my emotions, only my actions. However, controlling my actions is exhausting because it takes so much effort, so much energy which I know can be expended on other more substantial endeavors. My only solution is to eliminate the source of these feelings by ending the relationship.
Whereas in the past, I could shamelessly ask my friend to do or not do something; now as a more mature person, .I can never, will never ask my friend to change himself for me, or stop him from doing what he wants to do that is not bad for him. I have no control over him, but I have control over my life. Surprisingly, I do not feel sentimental about these things. I will always treasure what we had. Those were wonderful memories.
There won’t be new ones, though.
“Love is so short, forgetting is so long..” is a line from one of my favorite Neruda poems, “Tonight I can Write.” I think it’s a beautifully sad poem that captures not only the pain one feels at the thought that love has gone, but also the courage to imagine that the person one has loved so passionately will eventually move on.
Tonight I can Write by Pablo Neruda:
Sunset at Dalipuga, Iligan, Philippines
“There is always something ridiculous about the emotions of people whom we ceased to love.” (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
The words above quoted from Wilde’s novel were spoken by my favorite character in that novel, Lord Henry Wotton
At my age, I find it nothing but mere melodramatics when people say they cannot live without a particular person in their lives.
Of course I have been in that situation myself when I thought my world had ended because a particular person who I had made responsible for my happiness (and consequently, unhappiness) left me.
There is something inherently wrong in the belief that one cannot live without a particular person in their lives. First is that another person can be responsible for one’s happiness. Second, that one’s world would end when that person is gone.
No one else is responsible for our happiness except ourselves, and the world can and will really continue to exist with our without a particular person in our lives. If you tell a jerk (because even a jerk can fool somebody into loving him) that he is your life, your world and that both would come to an end if he leaves you, then you are giving him enormous amount of control over your life. Not smart. And if you tell an honest and responsible man the same, then you are giving him undue pressure and undeserved feelings of guilt whenever you are unhappy (which may be your aim, and that makes you the jerk.)
When you are truly, madly, deeply in love you seldom think clearly, logically. But when that period comes to an end, then it is like you have just recovered from a psychological cataract, and you see, if you’re lucky, the purity and selflessness of your love, or if you’re unfortunate, the silliness of your thoughts and actions.
When you fall out of love, you become this person that is able to distance yourself from the relationship and see yourself and the former object of your affection and the dynamics between the two of you, like the two of you are characters in a movie or in novel whose plot not only you can relate to, but also you can analyze and comment on objectively.
At first you may feel pity for the spurned person, especially if you have “lost that lovin’ feeling,'” but they haven’t. You may feel dislike or disgust for them, especially if they had betrayed you. Or you just may find them irritating when they cannot let go and keep trying to win back your love.
I think most people have experienced breaking up with someone or being let go by someone. If you broke up with someone that you ceased to love, then whatever they say becomes mere hollow sounds to you. If you’re polite, you will pretend to listen and do a mental eye-rolling when they tell you those saccharine words that you used to love to hear them say to you:
You are my world.
I can’t live without you.
You complete me.
Duh.
Or …
D’oh.
For those who cling to a lost love:
The pain of unrequited love is real. But you have to move on because:
1. It’s not the end of the world. Really.
2. You are responsible for your own happiness. No need to pass that responsibility on to somebody else
3. You CAN move on.
4. You WILL move on.
Let go but don’t let yourself go.
My fave coffee shop needs no advertising, so I’m using this photo instead which I got from this site
She decided not to ask him to meet up with her this time. No pressure. She knew he was busy. She would just wait for him to ask her out. And it happened on a Sunday morning. He invited her to have coffee with him. She was walking down the road going to the coffee shop when something told her to look behind, and sure enough, he was pulling up to let her inside the car.
She thought she had changed, that “it” was no longer there. Yet, as she sat next to him, and watched him drive, she realized, “it” was still there. That high-school-girl feeling of actually sitting next to the guy you really, really like. And she just sat there, not flirting, not trying to be cute, just enjoying the feeling of youth and excitement.
And that felt good. To know that even though she was now with somebody else, and he was with somebody else, and they could never be what they used to be, share what they used to share, that she could still feel like this when she’s with him .
She didn’t see him again after that Sunday coffee. Yet it was enough. She had her fill.
Our campus has a sanctuary for egrets. In the summer, one can see the beautiful white egrets perched on the trees by the lake –beautifully white on a green background.
The campus has provided the egrets with a safe haven where they can freely get food and not fear being hunted. True, a lot of of people — students and tourists alike — take pictures of them, but there is no threat.
As winter is approaching, most egrets migrate to the south where it is warmer, like my country.
Walking to work the other day, I saw this lone egret on the wooden bridge. I looked around for other egrets, and there were none. I strained my ear for the kraaa-aaa sound, but there was none.
I’m always guilty of overthinking things and over-empathizing. I imagined what it is like for the egret if it has really been left behind by the other egrets.
Let’s call the egret Trista. Is Trista happy that she can have all the food she wants as she has the lake all to her self, after all it really is not winter yet? If she has parents and siblings, is she happy that she can finally do what she wants to do without them watching every move she makes and criticizing her for not doing things well?
Did she choose to stay, or had she no choice but to stay?
Perhaps when evening comes and it is time to sleep, Trista will begin to feel the pang of loneliness. As it gets darker and she sails through the sky alone, and she looks down and sees human families relaxing at the well-lit park and lovers sitting close to each other on the wooden bridge on the lake, maybe she will feel so alone. And lonely.
When she goes back to her home where her mother’s constant nagging used to annoy her, and her siblings never-ending chatter used to drive her crazy, does she wish they had not left, or that she had left with them?
Understanding the encultured brain
Life in Copenhagen, Denmark, after moving during Covid-19.
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