Attack of the Mush: Pretentions

For almost two and a half months, I pretended. I pretended that I was ok. I lied my ass off trying to believe that the I was over you. I wanted the lie to become an eventual reality. But tonight, when I saw the pics of him with your family, with your mom and daughter, I nearly cried. My heart sank and I realized I wasn't over you. How could I when every fiber in my being still longs to be loved. Not specifically by you, but by someone. I wanted something similar to what we had. The seemingly near perfect relationship that I've always wanted.

I remain steadfast on the hope that I can find whoever it is, is worth the wait. But I grow tired too.

I always believed that I'm a great guy. But I'm not. I break hearts too. And my still semi-broken heart still needs mending. But who'd be willing?

Every so often we stumble upon a chance, an opportunity too feel great... to feel happy. Yes, happiness is a choice but to get there is hard work. I simply want to love another and be loved in return. I am the true bohemian lover. I feel my best when I love. I wish it were that simple to find him. If only...

But it isn't.

It never was. Never will be.

So dear God if you're listening, if you still care for me even one tiny bit, please, please, please let him find me. And I promise, I will do better this time.

Love letters and idealisms by Noel Abelardo

Amma Comin' Home

3 years ago I decided to move out of my parents house. Not because I had problems living there and not because I didn’t want to live with parents anymore but because, I felt the need. I needed to prove to myself that I could live on my own. I needed to understand firsthand how difficult and fulfilling it was going to be.

And now that I understood, I’m moving back home.

Ever since I moved out of my parents’ house, I was always asked by Mom to come back every chance she got. On every family gathering, lunch out, even on SMS but I always declined the offer. But in two weeks, I’ll be starting the laborious process of packing, transferring my stuff and settling back home. I feel jittery just by thinking about it. After being gone for so long, I’m actually scared to get my old life back. Back to quarreling with my siblings on a semi-weekly basis, back to the adjustment of going home early and abiding by the house rules and back to the reality that I have to spend as much as time as I have left with my aging parents. It was fun during the 3 years I was by myself. And by fun I mean difficult-scary-financially-taxing-exhausting-long-nights. And during those 3 years, I have learned so much more than I could have imagined. I’ve learned to be more responsible, less stressful and to basically take care of myself better.

I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to go back home…


Especially since I might get a car instead.

Mobility over independence.

Practicality over luxury.

Me over family.


Love letters and idealisms by Noel Abelardo