And the bubble goes pop

Surely you've been seeing my intermittent posts on The Duets Project - that little thing I have on Facebook where I post photos of me and someone else. Since I don't have that many photos of me in the first place, I have to go to everybody else's Multiply pages and hunt for albums with photos of me and someone else in it. Hard, because there aren't that many photos of me in the first place, partly because I never really was out and about.

Not that I'm complaining. More often than not I have a good idea of whose albums to go to, so I'm just treated to a kick back in time - back to, say, when we were still freshmen, when I was particularly earnest about doing things the right way. That thought makes me cringe now. I took things seriously and now I'm in between a rock and a hard place, if I'm allowed to exaggerate. And then that's forgotten, and I'm back to my nostalgia trip.

What makes these trips so fun is the fact that they seem so far away now. Everybody was right - you worry about things today, but when they pass you by and a few years fly by, they become mere artifacts. I worried about falling in love and now they're just silly stories. And I still don't have a love life to be proud of, but I have silly stories, albeit one I refuse to talk about, because I cringe whenever I think of all the blog entries I wrote. Am I in love with a girl named... I don't think so, Nicksy.

Today I was looking for more photos again. The problem was, I grossly miscalculated my probabilities. Here's me clicking on a photo album I never was part of in the first place. Here's me clicking on a photo album that, a few years ago, apparently, I vowed never to view, because for some odd reason it makes me feel really, really bad about myself. Well, to my credit, I did forget about it. It's been three years, and it should be just some chapter than you look back and chuckle about. And I did. And then it wasn't.

I hated the way how disastrous the process of moving on has been. Maybe it's because I made such a fuss out of it back then - it pretty much consumed me - but I just wanted it over with, despite knowing that I can't just yet. And then it's suddenly gone. Three years pass by, and it becomes a silly story.

The difference is, this story didn't end spectacularly. It just ended. I didn't feel anything that warranted an overreaction. It just ended. So, whew, this is what you really call moving on. No bad feelings whatsoever. Just a silly story in three years or so. That pretty much happened. It's been three years. It's a silly story, of me saying nothing will happen, only for something to happen, and so publicly unfolding on the airwaves. I cringe when I remember saying "I la la her" on the phone at five before midnight. It was a pretty good ending for someone with a disastrous streak.

That photo album reminded me of how bad things really were.

Perhaps I pushed it out of my head. Good thing, I might've said. I'm coping. But I lived with a lie while all of that was happening, and three years later my silly story is a lie. The story went along the lines of I didn't explode. I didn't look foolish. I kept quiet, and then it was done. But it was more of her not liking me as much as she did the others. Or, it's me being so shelled in and the others being so nice. More or less, it's a slow motion train wreck. The whiplash came in late. Really, really late.

Only I remember that I felt that very way before, back when I was in the middle of it. And I was pushing it out of my head Good thing, I definitely said. I'm coping. I'm growing as a person. I'm no longer overreacting. I was delusional. I know I'm sounding like five years ago, but I was delusional. I was convincing myself that this was going so, so well, only it isn't, because while I swooned in the corner I did not exist unless I had to.

That's the funny thing with this. Many times I told myself not to make a big deal out of something because it's immature, but the one time I did that, I end up with a lot of unresolved issues. I meandered, but I didn't really make it. And look, I'm this guy who stumbled this way around, and the rest were so smooth. And it reflects in every situation that involved me dealing with other people. Either it's too much or too little. I never really learned anything.

Two years ago I was calling that story a wonderful one. Nothing bad happened. Funny what an extra two years does to a supposedly silly story.

And your responses...

Post a Comment