A scientific explanation of my feelings

No, I’m not a friend who overthinks a lot
No, I’m not exaggeratingly sensitive
I just care about my friends in a way that’s too obvious
because I can’t afford to lose one again
when I already lost a dozen.

The clash of a tornado and an earthquake can bid you goodbye. Rift valleys are present. Our diverging friendship creates tsunamis that consume our never ending arguments. I’m going to express myself in my own language, so let me say this in Tagalog:

“Hindi ako OA na kaibigan, manhid lang kayo.”

I’m traveling around my own yellow brick road which still has a touch of immaturity, but I’m not going to lie about me experiencing too much. My body becomes torpid whenever I hear somebody complain about my concerned deeds. Especially if it’s one of the closest human beings I treat like family. It sucks. It’s like being slapped in your cheek, except it’s an emotional pain. When I try to touch it, the affected part spreads like wildfire in my body. It goes red. My whole body goes red. I taste sour blood on my lips and sweet despair in my soul.

I’m tired of being treated like I don’t matter. One time we had an argument, and I was the only one who cried. The pain felt like my insides are being squished by a cactus. It was an oceanic-to-oceanic plate boundary. Insecurity wakes me up in the middle of the night and they know that. I’m also a professional jumper. I jump to conclusions. So when everyone has told their sides, I was petrified. I didn’t expect truth to be so derogatory. I guess I just have to live with that.

I don’t exactly know how to live with pain. I just do. And even though I have ridges in my ocean of tears, I still forgive. My friends are my epicenters, they are sources of my earthquakes. And somehow, I think we were once the Pangaea. But now we’re divided into 7 continental plates.

(picture from Baptiste, “Stunning Satellite Photos of Earth From Outer Space”)

Dating tips 101

“If you’re dating a writer and they don’t write about you — whether it’s good or bad — then they don’t love you. They just don’t. Writers fall in love with the people we find inspiring.”

-Jamie Anne Royce


(watercolor painting by Carlton Alfred Smith)

“Never date a writer.”

So I came across this post when I was scrolling in my feed. They say that dating writers can be very risky because of the utopia they somehow create in their minds; and because they never, ever, fail to write everything about you.

“There’s this amazing boy I know who I’m too afraid to befriend,” it said. “Simply because I’m crushing on him so hard and I always don’t know what to say. If he knew even half the things I say about him, he’ll probably be beyond shocked.”

“Things like, ‘He is incomparable to all the muses of every existing angel in this world’ or ‘He may not be the head-turner or the star of among all the other guys, but he is perfect [for] me. Perfectly imperfect, that’s what he is.'”

Why wouldn’t you date a writer? Can’t stand that their mind works millions of different ways?

If you’re looking for an honest and sincere relationship, then date a writer. If you don’t, then I don’t give a damn about you. Because, out of all people, writers are the ones who see. If a writer falls in love with you, you’re lucky. You might as well consider yourself as an immortal (Tahereh Mafi: words will live as long as people can remember them.) They notice every single detail about something they love, and they convert their feelings into words. The best thing about them is that when they fall in love, they don’t fall hard. They fall deep. I think that’s beautiful.

Don’t be afraid of dating someone who writes.
Be afraid of dating someone who doesn’t.