Confessions

I have some confessions to make. I’ve stopped believing. I seriously doubt if I’ll ever end up with anyone, much less SOMEONE. I’ve always believed, since I was fifteen anyway, that somewhere out there, somewhere in time, there’s one guy whose umbilical cord was cut just for me. I’ve stopped believing.

It’s not a bitter realization, not as one might expect. I took it calmly. I was a bit emotional about it, I guess, but then that’s just me. I’ve come to realize that maybe this is His answer--NO. I remember back in Sunday School I was taught that when you pray you should expect any of 3 possible answers—yes, no, or wait. It’s definitely not a yes, and I’ve waited long enough, I believe, so that leaves only no.

No is the answer I have been waiting for all these years.

I’m still in the process of accepting this answer fully. I know the coming days, weeks, months, and years won’t be easy. I know I’ll have insufferable bouts with loneliness and insecurity but I have made and I am making a conscious choice to accept things just as they are. I realize I have no choice but to live with whatever God thinks is best for me.

I’ve stopped pondering why He has deemed things to be so. I’ll never have the answers anyway. And I might only end up truly miserable. All I’m asking for is for Him to be there for me when I need a hug, a shoulder to cry on, someone to love, someone who’ll laugh at my sardonic sense of humor, someone who will bear my loneliness for me.

I can not make the world stop turning, that’s what I’ve come to accept. And I also can’t stop living just because God wants me to remain single forever.

Life goes on. I must and am moving on. As it is, I’ve already got a lot on my plate. I’m having my “It’s the best of times, it’s the worst of times” moment right now and I’m choosing to dwell on the ‘best’ part.

Lest you start thinking that by making this decision I’d just chosen to live the life of an hermit let me reassure you that I’d still be my old bubbly, but still at times grumpy, self. I’d still go out on dates and I’d still enchant them with my crazy laughter, my disappearing eyes and my wit (ehem, ehem to that last part). After all, this should not stop me from being me.

What I’ll throw away is the conscious effort to find The One, the overbearing burden of thinking that the next date could be him, or at least his cousin, the crazy nights spent panting in panic because he still has not arrived—maybe because he’s still locked up in jail somewhere between Afghanistan and Iraq.

Instead, I’ll follow my cousin’s advice and just enjoy the moments for what they are. No more worries, puro happy thoughts na lang. Tama na na maka-receive ng text asking: “kumain ka na? :o)” I’d be genuinely happy with that, without asking or expecting anything more to come out of it.

And for those of you who might be thinking “Ha! This girl’s about to jump into the whole slutty phase!” well, dear, think again. I didn’t do it back when I was very bitter, I certainly won’t do it now that I’ve chosen to be happy, no matter what.

After all, some values are worth keeping, no matter what. Besides, I've never met a truly happy slut. I honestly don't get the point.