Mauled...

Well, it's been a while since I've blogged. I do feel like life is beginning to stagnate and I'm collecting fungus. But a part of me refuses to move. It's like I've just given up on myself. And I know I need to pull myself together and do something more important with my life. But somehow nothing seems to motivate me.

However, I am getting a little better in the men department. At least I'm not fixated on having a man in my life. I don't know what will become of me and Jaggu, or if we even have anything going on right now. But my feelings and cravings to have a guy beside me all the time have gone and I realized that being alone is a lesser evil than being with someone who isn't right or clearly doesn't want me. I don't feel desperate for having a romantic relationship.

However, I may have began to crave for friends and it's possible that perhaps my desperation has not really left - only changed focus. I somehow felt that I had more friends in high school than I do now. In fact, I think I hardly have any friends besides maybe two or three. I know people would say having a select few is better than having none at all, but the problem arises when I feel sad and alone and need a ear or shoulder and find myself staring at phone full of numbers that I can't call in such a situation.

And thinking about this got triggered by the fact that I'm not sure whether it happened or not, but I felt snubbed by someone I was trying to make a new friendship with. It stung, and I am surprised. Perhaps I'm used to being rejected by guys, but an attempt at friendship? Somehow it triggers memories of high school. Of a dark time in my life where I was surrounded by people who apparently were my friends, but said many names behind my back.

In recalling those moments, I am now going to share a part of my past that till this date hurts me a little. But I'm not ashamed anymore and perhaps saying it out aloud will make it less significant and help me get over it. I left my previous high school for a reason. Because my reputation in my junior year was in tatters. And all because of a stupid mistake I made.

My first love, first kiss...was the best thing I ever had ever since my dad left us. And when the guy left, I was too naive to realize that it wasn't a serious thing and was just a summer fling. I was so angry and so upset that all I could think of was hurting this guy I thought I loved. And hence I rebounded to the first guy who gave me any attention. My mistake number 1.

Mistake number two was thinking that going to a desolated park to have some alone time to bond with Mr. Rebound was a good idea. As we kissed and made out, things started going a little further and although I was scared, I thought I could pull the plug whenever I wanted. But there is only so much a guy can do before saying 'no' is about as useful as trying to stop a bullet-train with only your palm. And my first time ended up not only being painful, but pressured and overpowered. And unwanted. And the worst part was at that time I couldn't admit to anyone what had happened as doing so would have resulted in not only my family's embarrassment, but also me being deported and my life ruined.

My third mistake was trying to cover up for the dreadful experience by thinking I loved the guy who mauled me and that any questions asked by my girlfriends was spun into a 'oh, it was great and now i'm a woman' and pretending it was cool, to cover up for the humiliation I felt.

My fourth mistake was believing that my supposed 'friends' would take light of it and actually be cool with it. Instead, I ended up being labeled the 'slut' and ended up with guys who either were disgusted with me, or guys who wanted a piece of me. And the girls...well, there were my true friends who didn't give a damn, friends who overnight snubbed me 'cos I did something bad, and then there were the girls who on the front pretended like it didn't matter, but behind my back gossiped about what a slut I was. And how did I find out?

Well, during classes, we would keep a rough workbook which was a 'passing notes and paper chat' in disguise. And one day, I opened up the wrong book which wasn't meant for my eyes. And in every sordid detail, I read all the comments of my 'supposed' friends calling me all sorts of names and that the whole thing was disgusting. Which, till this date, still stings a little.

So there you have it. One dark little secret of mine is out. There's so much more I want to say, but perhaps another time...