I like you. I really do.

I just stared at the blank page for minutes  trying to decide on how I am supposed to start this off. My mind just went blank but I knew I wanted to write about you. Talk about you. It's been a while since I've finally admitted to myself that I have a thing or two for you.

You're cute. Have you seen your eyes in the mirror? They speak of your simple joys, the way they smile. I don't really dig on chinky eyes and I haven't really stared at yours that long when I had the chance but yours are just too cute I'm getting embarrassed.

You're fun to be with! You are! The way you made an effort to make the conversation a little longer and interesting made my innards smile. You had your smart ideas which I can't really recall because I am forgetful (and biased because I like you). Your enthusiastic voice, it definitely made the moment comfortable despite the high level of social awkwardness.

The exterior was cool as well. You dressed pretty good, not skanky nor grand. Not hip. Not vulgar. Just simple enough not to be noticed by anyone. But me.

See, I don't need you to look like Joseph Gordon-Levitt nor Ryan Gosling just for me to like you. Because any girl, once they get to know you, would definitely like you too for who you are.

But you're nowhere to be found.

And I wish to see you tonight. In my reality called dreams.

NO. NO MORE NEXT TIME,GIRL.

I've got a little time to spare just to share a few things about me before I head to the shower and hear the Sunday mass with the family. Mind you, this is not a "hashtag ootd" post, not as interesting and pretty.
After reading a few thoughtcatalog and print magazine articles and a little time for reflection (yes, I am as bored as you can imagine), I realized that I am an awkward and retarded fuck. Not too literally, but yes, I am. If we've met personally, you'd definitely understand.
I am the kind of person who's not worthy of a second invite, a next time. Why? My social awkwardness will kill us both. My mouth can't keep up with my inner thoughts which probably explains why I don't want to do the talking (ironic because my work involves a lot of talking). I've got too many things in mind and I can't really decide which qualify to be said out loud. Haha. I talk to myself, I'm better that way.
Do you recall our first meeting, the second, the third, or even the fourth? My hands were probably wet in cold sweat that time. It's funny how I remember holding my hanky and keeping the other hand in my pocket to keep my embarrassing sweat from showing. My back and armpits? Well, you can see them sweat through my shirt, can't really do anything about that, I sweat like a pig (pigs don't have sweat glands but try a pig getting roasted). A total turn-off. That was awkward, I know.
I hate saying 'Hi' to people I meet anywhere when I'm out, alone or not. But I do it anyway, for friendship's sake. I don't hate meeting people, I don't hate on people, mind you. I'm just too awkward for a short chitchat I wish I could hide in my tiny shell. With, of course, my earphones with me.
What I'm saying is, I totally understand why I rarely receive messages like 'hey, wanna hang out?' or 'labas tayo!' or 'ta, laag ta!' because I, myself, wouldn't want to hang out with me. Someone like me.

Friday the 13th

Let all souls gather and fly away to the moon. Let ours meet there, you and I, in another life. Because maybe, in that life, not another soul can take you. Never again.