I have recently come to the realization that the average young adult’s life reserves a huge chunk of time solely for dwelling on LOVE and the finding thereof.
Take the people I know, for example.
They live functioning, normal work lives. I even sometimes hear them talk about their families. But the frequency of our discussions on their turbulent or non-existent love lives has increased exponentially. Now, it might be one heck of an overgeneralization, but whether I just know a lot of love fools or I inspire the most hard_ss people to just spill the beans on their hidden moon-and-stars fantasies, there’s still a lot of stories I know.
I have a friend who is in love with a priest. She’s been smitten for a couple of years now. It doesn’t help that the person is a confused, morose, unsure young priest. He’s the farthest from holy as I could ever conjure in my head. But in fairness to him, he still hasn’t crossed the line that separates him from breaking his oath. He struggles so hard to make himself fit into a diocesan’s role. And my friend struggles so hard to accept that it is a love that can never be.
Recently, she met somebody who speaks, eats, thinks, and probably farts the same way as the priest. Except this guy is NOT a priest. And I can sense that this guy, if she really likes ex-seminarians, is more suited for her.
Last night, we had a phone conversation long into the night where she relayed to me her amazement to find out that the two people she liked were actually very good friends. Now she’s just stunned and quite clueless if God’s playing her a joke.
We both agree that God is a genius when it comes to orchestrating our lives. But she can’t quite accept the logic I offered her: that God has given you this other guy to show you that He plans to give you someone unencumbered by the cloth. Let what belongs to God remain with God. J
She can’t let go of the priest yet. I hope in time she will.
A friend of mine had one heck of a June 18th. It was supposed to be her wedding day, you see. But her fiancé left her months earlier, claiming he feels suffocated. She emailed us that she thought it was going to be one hellish encounter. It didn’t help that she saw him with the new girlfriend too.
Here’s a girl: smart, sexy, independent, funny but with an obvious handicap in choosing her guys. We don’t get it, and I think, she doesn’t get it either. She’s quite ready to admit she did not have a very reliable father growing up. But knowing this and still falling for all the wrong guys?
It’s a good thing she’s made of strong stuff. I wouldn’t want to go through what she went through.
Almost 30 and still never been kissed. To say she’s worried is an understatement. But… her pride keeps her away from resorting to anything desperate, say for example, actually smiling at a man to get his attention. Her standards are unreal. And her expectation on how she should be approached nearing obsolete.
But I am going to be very, very nice to Agnes because I might just become her in five more years.
What if you aren’t exactly a handsome guy? Buti na lang. you’re nice, smart and you have a great sense of humour, and some girls are actually making the mistake of falling for you. BUT they’re not chinita. So you just ignore them. A lot.
I’ll never get it, not being one of the chinky-eyed populace. But I guess you shouldn’t be insecure because it sounds too much like you dug a hole for your left foot to fall into.
She can’t quite make up her mind who she wants to be with: the guy who's around or the boy from the mountains.
Every fortnight, she’d switch her affections. Not deliberately, I’m sure. But she herself can’t seem to accept that either way, nothing’s going for her. She’d rather believe in omens and symbols that she was meant for A or B. AND AT THE SAME TIME, hopeful that C will come along.
This Carla, poor girl, doesn’t know what she wants. Doesn’t know what she needs. Has no clue at all.
Guess which one I am?