...comfort zone...

How big a zone must I create to feel comfortable? And what shape must it take for it to function as it should? People I know almost always would tell me that they have already defined their comfort zone. It was only a matter of shyness on my part to ask if I was ever inside it. Not that I really cared. Nor did it really matter. I cannot really find use for some information I do not understand.

It’s a funny thing, this zone is. I imagine it to be an osmotic barrier, invisible though, but can only filter in one direction, with much difficulty at that. Things tend to pass through it by natural selection, and not by choice of those that created the barrier. It’s an emotional filter that brings the protected some level of security – emotional or otherwise – but at the same time provides immeasurable degrees of transparency. Friends come and go, not necessarily through that zone, but they do come and go. Family exhibits the same.

I asked a friend not long ago to shed light on her comfort zone for me, how big it is, what shape it has taken and who is in it. There was little convincing on her answer on what it was, or what’s inside it. However, it was definitely clear to me what was outside it. The absence of things gives more definition to their existence.

I do not know how big your comfort zone is, but it’s starting to feel like I’m outside of it. This chaos in my mind, this uncertainty in my feelings, this madness in my thoughts – all these make me think that I have gone at least an inch away from your borough. And being outside, we both have moments that are no longer ours, but separately yours and mine alone. Take me back in; let me bask in that comfort which you bring. If I must beg of you, then I will, if only to savor again the refuge I find with you next to me.

Or is it you who has gone outside of my comfort zone?


note: inspired by recent conversations with lysistrata (http://perfectlytarnished.blogspot.com)

...surrender...

There is numbing pain that’s enveloping my heart. It’s a silent monster that creeps slowly, masked by a deep longing for you. And then it finally broke free, and every vein in my body ceases to respond. The heart is next.

You patiently tell me bedtime stories about how your life had been without me. My hand is clasped into yours as you slowly, yet unknowingly, attempt to break the battle that is waging inside of me. Like kids’ in a quarrel over whose turn it is on the swing, you push me off it. And as I lay half soaked in mud, this seething pain in me begins to unravel.

Words do not make dents anymore. And helpless as though I am looking up to you on that swing from the soft ground that I had fallen, you still are the angel in my eyes.

And heaven takes me. Or hell.

...linger...

Note: the following work of fiction is inspired by The Love Clinic with Dr. Love, Tom Alvarez, late nights on Monster Radio RX93.1



If you, if you could return,
Don’t let it burn, don’t let it fade…

Dear Dr. Love.

I am not wont to tell my story to someone other than who I dearly trust, but seeing as I am about to lose hope in finding the right thing to do, and as you are technically a stranger, I have decided, perhaps you can help me. I have, as they would say, a case of desperation. But don’t worry, Dr. Love, my story is a simple case of confusion. That is why I need you to tell me something - anything - that might help me straighten things out. I am sure you will help me, because if you can’t, then no one else can.

Dr. Love, my heart is split, but not exactly down the middle. A larger part of it is rooting for Larry. He is a dear friend whom I share a passion for. We started dating a few months back, and we both found a lot of common interests. Somewhere within those endless nights of being together under the moonlit sky, and of sleepless conversations, I fell for him. I had just come from a failed relationship with someone else, but after two years, I believe I am now ready for another. And Larry was it. He would, as the cliché-ic movie says, complete me, Dr. Love. Seriously. After five months or so of constant dating, I was eager for him to pop the question. I so wanted him to be my boyfriend.

It’s tearing me apart. it’s ruining everything.
I swore, I swore I would be true
But honey, so did you…

But then there is Derrek, the one who holds the other half of my split heart. A common friend introduced us at a party, and click was hardly the word to describe it. Dr. Love, we both felt like there was a whole lot of history behind the two of us, even though we talked for just a few hours that night. That first meeting was succeeded by another, and then another, and still another, until there were so many that I stopped counting. Derrek has this indelible charm that made me weak in the knees. If there was the “you complete me” movie dialogue for Larry, Derrek would definitely be the “you had me at hello” part.

So why are you holding her hand?
Is that the way we stand?

Dr. Love, this is where my confusion begins. I am standing at a pinnacle of decision-making. Larry just popped the question a few days ago, but to my surprise, I was mum. I couldn’t give him the answer I was so hoping to tell him before. I know I like him, a lot, and he loves me more than I can possibly love him. But my eyes are set on Derrek right now. And my emotions are screaming for him. If only I could possibly know what he is thinking. He would never give me any hints about his feelings for me, other than what I deem them to be. I fear, that I might be unreciprocated.

Dr. Love, I don’t want to lose Larry, but with my attitude lately, I might eventually. I am running out of excuses for not being able to go with him. I don’t want to continue dangling his hopes in front of him like an apple in front of a donkey. Soon he will tire, and that would break me. But I just can’t give in to him yet. Not with Derrek around. And he is like an addiction that I can’t find will to elude.

I am caught in between the one who loves me, and the one I desire. Please help me Dr. Love, to at least knock me into my senses. I would like to ask you for The Cranberries’ Linger as my love cure song. Thank you very much, and I do hope I find solace in you.

Yours Sincerely,
Sapphire

But I’m in so deep
You know I’m such a fool for you.
You’ve got me wrapped around your finger.
Do you have to let it linger?
Do you have to?

Do you have to let it linger?

...nothing compares to you...

Sinead O’connor once sang of wisdom-filled words that went, “..since you’ve been gone, I can do whatever I want…” Yes, I can stay home whenever I choose, and I can indeed eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant. But are those really what I want? Sometimes I find myself alone, but not necessarily lonely. That’s because I have you in even the slightest crevices of my thoughts. It’s those times when I want you physically next to me that I really have this propensity to cry, because the loneliness just eats me up from inside, like a glutton chewing every part of me. I wish the deadly sins would take its effect a whole lot swifter and take this glutton of loneliness away to loneliness hell.

A friend wrote, not a few moments ago, and I quote, “always make your absence felt, in such a way that somebody misses you…” You surely have made your absence felt everyday, since you went far away. I’ve never known this much longing before. I’ve grown so accustomed to having you next to me that this alien feeling of you nowhere near is hard to bear. End my misery and return to me, if you deem me worthy of having you back again. The same friend continues, and I quote, “…but don’t let your absence be so long that somebody starts learning to live without you.”

Now learning to live without you, I’m sure, is something I do not have even the slightest will to do.

Not now.

Not ever.

...se7en...

I just finished watching this two-hour long movie about the seven deadly sins, which of course, according to Catholicism, are supposed to ensure your one-way ticket to hell. It left me with more questions than answers, and more “what the hell?” than “oh I see.” But in all, this really makes the brain cells work.

Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Lust, Pride, Envy and Wrath. They need not be in any significant order, but they definitely can be in conjunction with one or all of the others, a sort of a canonical Combo Meal. At one point or another in my life, I have had a brush with a few of these sins, and taking the doctrines, I have bought for myself several tickets to hell. Now, thinking this ticket can be refunded, I have second thoughts. I am wondering what I paid them with? And what kind of remuneration can I get as a refund? Like everything else in this world, this thought scares me.

Just like Kevin Spacey said, we tolerate these sins because they are so common. It happens right from under our noses and yet we do nothing. We take them as everyday occurrences, like norms or holidays. I am knee-deep in shit hoping that maybe, just maybe, the reason why we do these sins would come crashing into our laps, and not through our brains. I’ve been trying to understand for the longest time, that I am beginning to feel I just can live without ever knowing at all.

There is indeed a fine line between acceptance and surrender. And neither appeals to me right now.