no rubbershoes
i found out saturday evening that the boyfriend had rescheduled his bangkok trip, and wonder of wonders, was going to be in manila on sunday.
i also found out saturday night that we had a badminton game with his friends.
whoa. me, in a recreational sport. right after i had thrown away my only decent pair of rubber shoes, a pair which i bought way back in second year college and only because the only PE left was running.
trust me to have more than more than enough pairs of black shoes: black with kitten heels, black with ebony trim and kitten heels, black mules, black with stiletto heels, black slingback pumps, and black loafers. trust me to have pink shoes and red shoes and camel shoes. trust me to have more than one pair of bowling shoes and a cool pair of roxy suede rubbershoes which match my car. i have more pairs than i actually care to wear.
but no decent pair of rubbershoes.
so i once more dipped into the savings account -- after all what are savings for? -- to buy the perfect pair of shoes. i had been thinking of getting a pair for the longest time, supposedly to kick-start my fitness regimen by running the academic oval , except that they keep getting shelved all the time. saturday evening found me with an iron-clad resolve to buy rubber shoes.
i did buy a pair. and yep, i liked them. they weren't pink climacools (funny how
jen wanted them too!) but they were cool.
they were so cool i was running all over the badminton court last night while dripping in my own sweat. they were so cool i slid on them and landed on my ass.
show-off.
-oOo-
first there was
friendster.
now it's
pam's blog. apparently it contains a forbidden word and therefore i cannot access it using the office internet connection.
weird.
delisyus' blog, with all its graphic description befitting an fhm issue, was never blocked but pam's was.
could it have been the inner b*tch?
-oOo-
if i didn't love the boyfriend as much as i do, i'd make a mockery of the thousand and one rules he's come up with in the month and a half we've been together.
yesterday it was about the length of the shorts i'm supposed to wear.
aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgh.
-oOo-
you're mad at me.
you're mad at me cause i didn't want to talk to you. you're mad cause i chose bomber man over conversations which, undoubtedly, would keep going back to your advances which, in spite of my numerous attempts, i cannot deftly avoid.
i've tried apologizing and explaining. i've tried telling you how things seemed from my end and how, at that time, i was more hurt than anything by what you did. you, on the other hand, kept insisting how things were different and not at all how i saw them.
it's like i'm at fault for having moved on first.
but see, there was nothing that was keeping me there to begin with. YOU let go. YOU wanted space and time and all that crap while i stood still and waited. it had to be on YOUR terms - your timing, your feelings, you getting over your ex and all your other issues.
you could have said something then.
except you choose to say something now. you and your stupid propositions.
you're too scared to be happy. when things were good, you didn't want it. you wanted to make things complicated by wrestling with all of your demons when you didn't have to.
i'm sorry. what i have now may not be perfect.
but he loves me. which is way more than what i can say about you.