i want a new me

yes, i want a new me, but unfortunately, as with all i-will-finally-get-my-stuff-in-order plans, most rosa reinvention plans fail after a while. most recently was the pearl project where some kids and i planned to start wearing pearls in the belief that women who wear pearls seem to be more gentle, more loving, more with "it" than anyone we know. i actually posted a small piece of paper on my desk both in the dorm and at work containing "pearl project" in big bold letters hoping that the constant reminder would empower me to continue on with my grand plan.

recently, on a particularly long trip, i again made the decision to reinvent myself anew. i want enough of the old me to remain but enough of the new me to catch people's attention. in his words, the goal is to be an event.

now this could be the stilettos talking but, whatever. i want a new me. i want to be more confident of who i am. i want to finally lose the 15 pounds i gained when i was with rey. i want to learn how to finally walk in heels. i want to be kinder and more gentle in dealing with people, and yet firm when the need arises. i want to learn how to keep my mouth shut so when i finally speak, people sit up and listen. i want to be independent, to be able to eat alone, vacation alone, and (the ultimate) watch a movie alone.

i want to be able to sing... but that'll be asking for too much.

* * *

i don't really know what brought about the suddent decision. could be because i was in major "unrequited like" situation? ever been there? you're starting to be friends with someone then all of a sudden you see things you like in the person. you notice how his eyes are like. you begin to imagine what it's like kissing him. you find yourself finding more and more reasons to text him. every song on the radio becomes relevant in your imagined love affair.

he, on the other hand, carries on as if he were clueless or something. he goes on and on about this girl who fell in love with him and how he can't handle ANYONE falling for him. he puts himself down, telling you how weird he is and how the thought of commitment sends shivers down his spine. he tells you how he likes women in general and how he'd probably just go on dating till kingdom come.

you sit there listening to him, pretending to be understanding and all that when the only thought running through your head is "dude, i'm falling in like with you and all you can think about is her?"

* * *

every single minute can be sheer torture. you know the feeling of a wound that's healed and yet pressing the scab on top of it brings this weird kind of pain? that's how it's like. you know it'll be painful but you keep pressing for some absurd reason. you know you should resign yourself to the fact that the most he'll ever see you as is as a good friend, a younger sister maybe, but that's it. you know that losing twenty pounds and affecting a british accent won't change his mind about you. oh, you can pray to st. jude (the patron of the impossible, i gather) but that'll be too much.

* * *

i am hopeless, i know.