Torn and Her Thoughts

Reasons why I’m monogamous:Part I

I hate the prototypical guy you can bring home to mommy and daddy, who looks great on the outside, smacking of ivy league ideations, carefully dressed, speaks nicely, smells heavenly, but is as ugly as a rotting, decaying can of worms on the inside.  With hideous skeletons of unimaginable  number and proportions you sadly only get to discover once you’ve said your "I do’s" and is forever bound to him in sickness and in health and all the blah.  The degree and the accomplishments, and all the hype don’t mean a thing to me.  Personality and depth of character rules and not some fancy diploma of some fancy post-graduate course. I have come farther than most, and diplomas don’t appeal to me.  I was made a pharmacist and then a doctor by a diploma.  A topnotcher, in Pharmacy and Medicine,  by a piece of paper each, but am I a better person because of it? Of course not! I’m as rotten as ever, probably a bit more learned, but still, working big time on my personality and character flaws just so I can finally measure up to the few enlightened individuals who have really made it.  People with pure souls and pure hearts.  In the end, on judgment day, when we stand before the Almighty, will He look at our degrees and accomplishments and trade them for our being good people?  I’m afraid not. As I’ve always said to all the people who have erringly goaded me to fall for such a man, I don’t need a rich man with a fancy degree. I have a far more FANCIER degree of my own and I can be far RICHER than most, in my own time.  I don’t need a man suitable to the public’s eye, yet who beats me up, phyically and emotionally, who treats me like shit and who will later on leave me to the dogs. What I badly need is a man with a sharp mind ruled by a pure soul and a heart that is untarnished.  Who won’t cheat on me when we’re married and will forever hold his vows, eternally loving me, and not hiding all the things he can’t do for me behind his fancy degree. So long as he finished at least one degree, that’s fine with me.

  I hate guys who will do anything, even unlawful immoral acts just to save their ass from possible overt public humiliation or financial destruction. Who knowingly schemes against others just so he can lift his almighty ass off the slime he is so deeply in.  Who lies, cheats, cunningly and calculatingly plots to make sure his personal gains are always the priority in his muddled, sordid world of treachery and scum. Graft and corruption, stealing from the poor and embezzling funds are such a no-no, i’d kill for it, if need be.  Politicians, lawyers, those in a position of power usually fall under this category and for this reason, i have been very careful not to date, much less cross paths with this kind, to avoid getting slime on my shoes so to speak.  Not every person under this category are as despicable, and I actually have some of them for friends.  Sadly, most of them are, so I distance myself the minute I smell them a kilometer or so away.  Nobility is such a scarcity nowadays, that finding my diamond in the ruff is one of the greatest blessings my young life has received.  Woe to those who’ll never find their knights, for they still exist, but are so few, you’re lucky if you find one.

i hate guys who ask you to be less talented, less intelligent than you are, even without words, just because they are intimiditated by how big you can really get, and how high you can really fly, leaving them behind like tiny dots in the distance while you soar, uninhibited, getting bigger by the moment.  i simply hate it when they can’t handle your success. Daftness and stupidity are relative in my eyes. Good grades are not necessarily a must, so long as you passed. What is stupid to me, is a guy who really is unintelligent, but pretends to be so.  These are the type who always try to find means to show case their acquired knowledge of even the most trivial of things and speak of it with such importance you really have to choke on your own saliva whenever you hear it.  Furthermore, to completely do so, you have to act stupid yourself so he can seem much more intelligent than you are.  This I can’t do.  I’ll be blunt, I’m superior and far intelligent than most and if he can’t handle it, SCOOT, and never come back.

i hate guys without faith, without regard for the Divine, without fear that there is indeed a far greater Being, greater than all of us and anything imaginable to our limited minds and limited visions. There is a GOD, and to Him we must dedicate our actions, as well as our decisions and whatever we conceive our future to be.  He is the reason why we’re here, and our life’ work must be dedicated to HIM. And for that, atheists and deviants from the faith do not impress me.  A man who does God’s work in his own way is heaven-sent in my eyes, and this is one of my greatest turn-ons.

I hate guys full of themselves, who think they ought to be worshiped, ought to be put on a pedestal, when, in reality these are things you do of yor own accord, these are things not asked of you, yet you do these because you feel strongly for the person, and you do these willingly, without prodding, without force.  It is a mighty gift, when a woman puts you on a pedestal even when others can’t seem to see why, because it means she sees potential in you.  I hate guys who are afraid to do household chores thinking these to be things meant to be done by the wifey, de-masculinizing their already inflated chauvinistic tendencies.  Let’s face it, on any given married day of your life, wouldn’t there be times when the wifey is tired and you’ll be tasked with cleaning the kitchen, or straightening up the bedroom once in a while.  So how would it look if in your pomposity you refuse to lend a hand?  I find it sweetest when married couple do things together.  Gone are the days when the wifey stays at home and waits by the door like a dog to fetch her hubby’s paper and slippers when he arrives, fixes his meal and uncomplainingly listens as he drones on about his boring work.  Nowadays, wifeys are career women themselves.  They are engineers, businesswomen, accountants, doctors, etc.  They are women in powerful positions, and just like you and me, they get tired after a hard day’s work.  Do you honestly expect them to do everything by themselves so when you come home, things will be served to you on a silver or make that a gold platter?  Wake up jake.  This is the new millenium.  Hubbys and wifeys are expected to help each other out.  And if a man is not comfortable with this notion, then go take your ass off somewhere where time is a hundred years late.  There you might find your wife-maid of the ancient times, ready to do your bidding. 

   I hate guys who abhor kids, who do not value family, because in a great sense, you are getting a glimpse of who he will be once you settle down with him, by his attitude towards kids and family. In my experience, I find that guys who do not come from a perfect family understand me best, and that they are the ones willing to work harder than most just so they can have a perfect family of their own.  Just like me, who grew up without both parents, i so badly want to have a perfect, complete family of my own, with a mommy and daddy who loves each other like crazy.  Guys who come from perfect families usually never get to understand me, my angst, my misgivings and all my hell.  They take for granted what they have, and eventually end up with a broken family of their own.  Unlike us.  We want what we never had, and we work hard for it.

I hate guys who aren’t over sowing their wild oats, these are akin to your having a subarachnoid hemorrhage, meaning: worst headache of your life.  Temptation will always be around.  Women do grow old. Our once perfectly toned, firm, young bodies will begin to sag with time.  Our breasts will no longer jut out like some seventeener’s and flabs will be sure to crop up out of the most unlikely spaces. Stretch marks will pile up as we bring your children into the world.  Wrinkles will abound and we wil no longer look like what we used to.  To find a man who will go through these changes with you and love you just the same is achingly sweet.  But to find a man who won’t go chasing after some other broad with a skirt on because these changes are happening to you, is your highest win in life’s lottery of men.  To think that most men cannot stand fidelity even when you’re young and beautiful will really make you cry to think what would happen next when you’re no longer that.  Monogomy is a must.  And before I settle down, I’ll make sure my man has settled down with all his wild imaginings and cravings way ahead of time. I’ll wait for him to tell me he’s tired of all the bull shit and wants to settle down quietly for good.  Virgins for men are a bad investment.  A man must be experienced in and out of the bed room before you settle down with him, otherwise you get a husband who’s fantasizing over his work-mate or whomever while he’s on top of you.  This happens even to the most beautiful, most exciting of women.  Think: Woman on top.  So the best thing is not to get hitched until all the wild oats, barleys and what-have-you’s have been sown in BOTH your fields so you don’t get these pathetic fantasies.

My ideal man: goddess-worhips me, loves me with his soul, sickeningly sweet, unafraid to pick a fight (mano-a-mano) with hooligans and jerks if need be, knows MORE than i do about any one intellectually-stimulating thing, half-metrosexual, is heterosexual, quiet, unselfish, thoughtful, UNemotional yet sensitive, strong yet kind, principled, undaunted by me and my accomplishments, pure, humane, unafraid of me, can calm me down, tall, muscled, dark, non-flabby, looks good with long hair as well as without hair, not too clean, not too scented, cowboy, survivor, can fight alligators and snakes, not too yuppie, not too formal, has good oral hygeine, can cook, looooves kids, loves his family like crazy, goes to church with me, fears God, non-dorky, not stupid, NOT DUMB, jackass at times, has a sense of humor, however twisted, not averse to household chores, drinks sometimes, smokes sometimes, (but is over and done with binging and chain-smoking), can deal with my almighty side, gentle, MONOGAMOUS, experienced, good in most things, can fix or build a house, can teach me a thing or two, knows how to play chess, is compassionate, will come live wherever i may choose to do so, takes care of me, is not demanding, is understanding, confident, can be my other best friend, not a bore, appreciates my cooking, can wait and wait and wait, comes from a not-too-perfect family, is in love with my hometown, appreciates poor people and helps them out in his own way, changes BIG TIME for me and because of me, has had many girlfriends, can stand my shopping, can stand my vanities, deals with my flaws and imperfections, is with me because he chooses to be with me, can still look at me with such fervor after more than a decade. Still wants me with the same yearning after more than a decade or two or three, etc.

I found him.

And I hope he marries me. NOT NOW, no, but someday.

5 years and 5 months today.

I have so many things to ask you.  Have I been good to you? Wait, let me qualify that: Have I been good to you most of the time? Okay, some of the time, then? Have I given you the understanding you deserve? Have I been patient, much less, kind? In the tracest sense of the word?  Have I been supportive?  Have I been encouraging?  Have I been uplifting in those dreary, bleak moments? Have I been giving? Have I been morally uplifting? self-esteem-boosting?  Have I been a blessing?  Have I changed anything? Have I shown you something?  Have I made you happy? Have you felt I was your soul mate? Even for an instant?  Has it crossed your mind? Have I loved you enough?  Did you feel it? Have you felt it? Do you feel it?  Is is there, for you? Have I been intense? Have I been inspiring? Is the spark still there?  Is the electricity alive? Am I what you dream of? Am I what you want? Need? Fear? Hope for? Do I make you happy? Do I make you feel special?  Can you still stand me? Until when? Will you be steadfast? Will you wait for me? 

5 years and 5 months, still words are never enough. More and more, and more.  This is how I feel for you now. I’m afraid I might just know your answers to my questions.

I miss Bru and her practical no-nonsense way of telling me that i’ve screwed up.  She flew to Canada on such short notice I haven’t even time to properly say goodbye.  I miss her now, and the empty space beside the bed where we used to talk till the sun is almost up, musing about anything and everything.  I miss her because I need her company now, that i have yet again to be told i screwed up. For a moment, I can forget all mistakes and disappointments and pretend everything is okay, so long as i stay in her rose-colored world with the rose-colored glasses that only she can provide. i miss that now.

when the vampire looks for the light and cannot seem to find it. when the vampire strives to get burned in his fire and yet cannot feel it. when the vampire is listless, angling for the kill, yet hesitates and is crushed, the vampire loses the battle, and flees to the dark recess that is home to no one but the V. The vampire concedes, but never really loses. yet he never loses as well.  HIs power is getting stronger by the day, and any minute now his fire will be too much to bear.

no time more so than now that i have strived to be like the sangre, specially now.  everything i don’t possess, the sangre possesses. what a gift this will be to you if i could even begin to be like the sangre.  but no two beings are alike, and i am me.  just me. flaws and imperfections and all. sometimes i ask, and wonder simultaneously, just until when will i get away with things?  when will i cease to be blessed? for I have been far blessed than most, and yet, i am far too dense to to do something about it.  the most essential things in life, i have learned the hard way, are indeed free. trivial at times to the jaded eye of someone so into himself to actually see, yet always there, just within reach.  yes i’m really dense, because, even if i know this, it is beyond me why i don’t do my best to make it seem so.  bluntly: i’m stupid.  for all the accolades, and all the acomplishments, and all the hype and everything else, sadly i am stupid. and when will i wake up from this nightmare called stupidity? when things are not within reach anymore? i pray, fervently, that this would not be so.  the Divine has always, always, without fail, saved me.  I pray that this time around, i may be saved from all that is inconsequential, formless, and meanigless, and yet made to see and treasure everything that is its exact opposite.  i pray for you, and your understanding me yet again.  more and more, as days come to pass, i am fearing that the threshold has been reached and that your purity has been breached, but once again, the vampire seeks another miracle. insanity. i find that reading one’s insanity in actual words is uplifting, encouraging and somehow, healing.

it was aptly put in the "lake house", waiting is my hard-earned virtue at the moment.  i wait and wait, arduously counting the days when i can finally say that the beginning is about to unfold.  piously, like a devout follower, i wait, i wait for you, whom only i will truly ever know.  the sangre and the phoenix knows about you but does not truly know you.  Because in my hearts of hearts, in the darkest, deepest corner, there you lie, dormant, waiting for that momentous day when your existence will begin to unfold, overflowing and overpowering me, and all that is around me, because of the magnanimity of your mere existence. In trepidation i humbly wait for you and all the consequences you will bring.  I pray so hard, I don’t know how i’ll handle it if your coming will be delayed much longer, or alas, if your reality will not materialize.  I pray to high heavens, to Him who is Divine, that your existence in my life will come, and that you will be everything I have prayed for, I have hoped for, I have longed for, I have dreamed so much about, I have dwelt so much on, I have desperately wanted for so long. And you’re not even a YOU.  you are just my grail. (too much da vinci code influence is obviously apparent in my writing.  But the sangre is not, she is a breathing, living person). I have to remind myself, you’re not even a YOU.  But you take me to such great heights of wonderment, sometimes i think of you as befitiing to be called  "YOU." you are my grail, and as long as i breathe, exist, wish, hope, dream, aspire, love, pray, and believe, then there will always be  "you." 

crying was never a reality.   hoping for the immortal. i have been remiss and the consequences are after all, too much for me to bear.  Everything, every tragedy, every "sham, drudgery, and broken dream" i have endured.  the hardest has yet to come.  after all, after all. words are still never enough.  this is something not known to you.  neither have i the courage to let you know nor to make you actually feel it.  sinvirguenza. for all my audacity, endless diatribes and boundless expanse of emotional lingo, i am after all, MUTE. i just can’t seem to say these things to you.  it shames me no end that acts such as mine have spawned my own limbo. my own limbo that only i can ever be in, because i alone have created it, lived in it, and vilefully revelled in it.  vampires will always be vampires, as i always say.  And the phoenix? will hopefully continue to be born again and again and again…