Things people don’t want to hear…

“He’s not good enough for you…”

Cool. So all of a sudden I have no taste in guys and I’m bound to pick the wrong one each time, right?

Well, that’s no fun.

I was under the impression that dating was supposed to be about having fun with and getting to know someone so that you can figure out what you like in the person that you will spend he rest of your life with.

No one wants to hear that they chose the wrong kind of guy…again.

What does that tell me? I’m bound to have a terrible love life and I will never be happy because my family will never approve of the guys i “bring” home. I say “bring”‘in quotations because I’ve never actually brought a guy home yet…for fear that my mom will question the hell out of him.

So what… Now YOU can decide who is best for me? When will I ever get to choose what I think is right for me??? This is what I should be telling myself instead of giving in…

But, because I was already in the mentality of “oh, I can’t possibly bring THIS one home. My family won’t like him,” I guess that doomed this relationship from the start.

I love my family, but…they can be so racist at times. The only thing my grandma and my mom ever bring up is the fact that the last few guys I’ve dated weren’t Asian. No, in fact, hey were Mexican. I don’t see what the big problem is with this, but my family insists that traditions will be broken because other races have different values. I know that. But maybe you should meet the guy…and THEN judge him all you’d like. You don’t even give them a chance!

Harsh Realities

You know what really sucks?

Forgetting it even happened.

Actually, you never really forget because the hole that it caused is always in you…always eating at your soul…always causing an emptiness that can never be filled.

All you can really do is hide the tears that well up inside of you.

I must be strong. I must get through this. It was nine years ago and, although I shouldn’t forget, I can’t let it take over.

The only reason why I remembered it happened was because my friend mentioned a similar story and how she couldn’t cry because she had to sing.

I could feel the tears in each eye just ready to stream down my cheeks.

I know that my friend on the other side of the table could see something and I wonder if they could hear the story being told and remembered my story.

I had to get away from the table we were all sitting at, so I stood to throw away my cup and napkin.

Then, the feeling went away sort of.

It was only until we all got up to walk toward the cars that my friend put her arm around me because it seemed like she could sense my distress.

Of course, this usually makes me cry harder…so all of a sudden my cheeks were wet with tears.

Good thing it was nighttime and the streetlights weren’t that bright.

Our other friends walked ahead of us and I was glad that no one turned around or else I would’ve sobbed right there in the parking lot.

Talking is NOT an option when I’m about to cry or when I am crying, so I didn’t even try to say why I was so sad.

I texted my friend and told her exactly the reason for my tears because she had been there a couple times previously when I told my story.

I knew she would understand or at least just be a shoulder for me to cry on.

My friends were all dropped off at their places and, as my other friend that was driving me pulled up to where she usually drops me off, I told her what was going on also.

I think she could sense that I was on the verge of crying, so she didn’t ask.

I was also glad that she could tell I didn’t feel like talking about it.

My gosh, nine years…already?

…and it still makes me sob…

This is definitely something I will never, ever be able to forget.

…and no one will ever know what it feels like unless it happens to them…which sucks.

Well, all I can say is I’m glad that I know so many amazing people who understand me so well.

Currently listening to: “This Woman’s Work” by Maxwell.

(If you are wondering, read some of my first blogs posts. Particularly, this one.)

Crying…

I don’t understand why people cry to other people… Sure, I’ve done it when I’ve hurt myself physically and when something as dramatic and tragic as what I’ve mentioned in previous blog posts happened… but maybe it’s something I have to experience first-hand. A bad ending to a relationship? I’ve never had one. I guess I just don’t understand why anyone would want to cry to someone. I guess it’s more for support and encouragement that what they did was the right thing to do, but I’d rather cry alone. I don’t see the need to cry for hours on end. Besides, I hate my crying face. The scrunched up face that everyone makes? Yeah, I don’t like seeing mine so I hate it when others see it too.

Here’s how I cry: once I get the feeling that I need to release something, I just watch the SYTYCD breast cancer dance choreographed by Tyce Diorio and the judging afterward and that’s enough to get me crying for a good 5-10 minutes. After that, I’m done. I don’t need comforting because it’s an issue that I’ve dealt with in the past. I’ve learned how to deal with those emotions and thoughts that run through my head when that situation happens.

Maybe that’s the thing… I’ve only experienced something tragic once and those tears definitely streamed out hard. Sometimes I still feel like crying about it, but what’s the point? Nothing’s going to change. Nothing’s coming back into my life. Nothing’s going to be the same again. I’ve accepted it and I’m still moving on. That was enough to make me realize I have to be strong and continue to grow and learn from it. I’ve become more independent and rely mostly on myself for my own happiness. Happiness. That’s something I find in everything I do. If there’s no happiness in something I set out to do, I quit. I don’t see the need to do something I don’t enjoy, so that’s why I try to make the most of what I do. I try to be optimistic, but sometimes it just doesn’t work out that way. Whatever. I move on.

It sounds like I’m numb and devoid of all emotion. I’m not… I promise! I guess that’s why I smile… to hide my true feelings. Smiling makes others think I’m fine. Smiling makes others think of me differently – as someone happy and not “broken”. Smiling is the sneaky way of hiding myself. My sad self is masked by the pretense that all is fine and peachy.

Gosh, darn it… Another deep post.

By the way, that dance piece is a really beautiful piece and has a very special place in my heart! You should watch it like now… NOW! Here’s the link: SYTYCD Breast Cancer Tribute.