Looking forward to... I think.

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There's always something about family trips that you are not sure if you are looking forward to it or not. Even up to now, a couple of days away from my long awaited Family reunion/trip, I can't help but wonder if I really do want to spend time with my sister, my uncles and grandmother.

Ever since one of the worst Sundays my sister provided me during her last visit, I've been vigilant on keeping her on the down low about anything and everything that happens in my life. I've come to accept that we're just not that type of siblings. Yeah, I'd love to have a sister like Holly's but let's face it, my sister is just a whole different species of her own. The things that are important to her is rarely important to me (vice versa) and she can't see past my age.

The last time I shared something she ended up dismissing it and just simply ruined one fine Sunday I could have stayed done a 100 other different things. Instead, she makes me travel all the way to the south to tell me to quit my job (a midst a promotion of sorts) and look for a totally non-related job.

The thing that I hate the most about her (and my family in general) is that they never listen. They pretend to listen but they just simply nod, say yes and get mad when things don't go their way.

Am I excited to spend 5 whole days in my sister's living room? Not really.

Am I hoping that we'll have a better relationship out of this whole trip? Always.

Just in case, I'll bring my music player and drown my sorr

Forgive me Lover (Inspired by a Song and a Bucket of Tears)

Dearest,

I'm listen to a band I think you would absolutely adore. I'm listening to a woman's voice screaming what I should have told you long ago. I'm listening to a man's voice hoping that it's you giving me what I honestly long for all along... forgiveness. 

This is the last stage. This is the last draw. This is where I swallow my pride and simply say:

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry for everything.

I'm sorry for not being what you thought I was. For the deception. It was due to pure longing to have your affections. To hope to be better than everyone. In the end, I just ended up as a party joke. A sad old rumor about a sad young girl.

I'm sorry for my immaturity. But don't worry, this experience has taught me well... isn't that what you always wanted to do? Teach me a lesson? I've paid my dues, I think. 

I'm sorry for thinking it was something more even though it was obviously not. I'm trying to repent and set the record straight. I think I fell in love with being old and now I can say that even though a lot would argue about my age and how 'young' I am, I'm wiser... I'm wiser because of what happened. I guess that merits a thank you. So, thank you.

I'm sorry for the embarrassment. Your actions have caused me my share as well. It's alright. Consider even. 

I'm sorry about never forgetting. I can't help it. My heart rules my head and if I had a choice, I'd leave this organ in my chest tucked in a chest under my bed. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for you being always on my mind... for hoping just a little tad more. I deserve better and you deserve someone truly older and wiser. 

We both deserve to be happy and as the memories in my head seem to fade (I barely remember what you look like, what was it that made me think that we were meant to be or what made me think that it was possible) I've come to realize that  we both deserve to go out of our way and forget. But before I do so, I ask, most humbly, for your forgiveness.

Forgive me, lover. Every now and then you're on my mind. Just every now and then.

Forgive me, my past lover. Thank you for the lessons on heartache. Thank you for the lessons on crying over something that never really existed. Thank you for the kiss, the peck, the smile, the knowing look and nights of possibilities beyond my world. I may have been a heart played but you are, with no doubt, what your profession is (even now, writing it is hard).

Forgive me, self for putting him up there in that pedestal you try so hard to crush. Let's face it. He's worth less than what we assume. He's the epitome of what we hate the most. However, the moment he calls, the moment you see him and he strikes conversation, you will be there. You will be happy answering his questions. You will think that it's all over and you can begin anew. And at that moment you will not remember this letter. You will not remember this post. You will remember this song keeping you company on this cold November night together with the three bottles of beer in front of you. 

But for the moment while I am still sane I ask for your forgiveness and will always remain to be...

... the one who constantly cares loves thinks of you,

S.A.

Another Open Letter and A Little Bit of Wishing - An Old Draft.

Dearest,

TODAY, I saw this old draft from my post list. A little something that I was supposed to post a couple of months ago.

I wonder what I was thinking about and how the title of this post said that it was an open letter to someone. Who was I writing to? Why did I stop?

Full of thoughts,

Someone Anxious.

A Little Something About Purity

My close friend celebrated his 'barbarakah' two Saturdays ago.

It was such a learning experience for me. It proved that everything we expect in life doesn't really happen as we thought it would. For starters, I didn't think that "Bar Barakah" was a Christian birthday party for men. At the same time, I didn't think that I'd end up having a very late dinner and beer with my college friends in the city.

What really struck me the most is how I feel so okay about the whole purity ring. Ask me two years ago and I would have laughed at you and talked you into this whole rock and roll lifestyle. Now, I get it.

Everyone is a rocker in their own way.

Baby Jeep

Baby Jeep /ˈbābē jp/ 
Noun.
When you ride this jeep, it constantly reminds you that a.) you are single without child and b.) you haven't had sex for a long time because everywhere you look, a couple/mom carries a toddler on their lap.

Just rode one on my way to meet Holly.

-S.A.