My Life Mission

Each being is sent to earth for a purpose... or at least it has been said. I wonder how many people on earth are aware of their mission? And if they don't know it yet, how many people are consciously trying to find out what their mission or personal legend is, as Paulo Coelho puts it?

Frankly, I've never given this much thought. I only go as far as analyzing why God gives me certain trials. Now that I am pondering over it, I must say that it's a difficult question to answer.

Since my father died, I never really thought of doing anything else, other than be the sole provider for my mother and two younger brothers. Family members and friends were awed by how I loosely adjusted from pampered daughter to breadwinner. It has been a difficult journey, but one that has always given me pride. I am not just independent. I have transfigured into a warden, a keeper, an iron-willed bitch, a strong soul.

Six years of being accustomed to the role that gave me much pride makes it hard for me to transition into an ideal wife. In the last year or so, my partner has been pointing out, how notably far my character is from the perfect, caring and submissive wife that he wants me to be. Like the traditional husband, Denver wants a Stepford Wife. I don't remember trying to explain why I am this way and why it is a challenge for me to change into the kind of person that he wants, but if it were brought up today, I don't think I would even have the energy to justify my attitude or behavior. After all, no matter how difficult, I know I have, in my own way, tried to become less of a bitch at home, and more of a twit just to please him at some point in our relationship. No matter how hard I tried, I didn't get any credit. During one of our fights, he mentioned that it was too late. Now I realize that my effort was not given credit because he was too damn focused on his Stepford Shack Job.

Is it my mission to be the ideal wife? I honestly think this is a poor purpose. Years ago I told my mother I'm not wife material. She agrees with me. My partner will definitely not argue with this statement. Is it my mission to be the best mother? All mothers are the best in their own right, but I admit that I have a lot of flaws to work on when it comes to motherhood. I know my mission is not career-related because I don't inspire those around me.

I'm not even close to an answer. I know that I am here for a purpose and I am curious. I'd like to discover what it is and see if it has anything to do with my current shitty life. Maybe when I know, I can start focusing on my personal legend, instead of dwelling on the evil little trick they played on me.

Worse Than Her Death

"About Me" says that I'm happy with my life now. This is not true at the moment. In fact this has not been true for weeks. This is, no doubt, due to the recent mess I've been caught in.

How long does this torment have to go on? I am so fucking sick of it. I want to forget about what happened but how the hell am I supposed to do that when the process of wanting to forget involves pondering over the damn thought? Am I even making sense?

Some days I want to die. No matter how much I want to move on, harmful thoughts creep in and drag me into my misery. I want to erase her sickening image from my memory but it pops up like an ugly zit that just won't go away.

I've contemplated on hiring someone to disfigure her face with acid. Not that there's much to destroy but it might be a joy to see her melting face. I often imagine her wailing in agony while the acid eats up her face. I'd like to watch it happen and I would make sure she keeps her vision so that she can look at her hideous face. A monstrous face that would perfectly match her already nauseating character.

Other days I just want to shove the thought because she is not worthy of my time and thoughts.

This whore should live long enough to suffer her karma. She has taken something from me that I may never get back. My faith.

I have not made any decisions yet. Right now I'm just pissed and confused.

I still want to look at the glass half-full. God help me.

My Birthday Gift

I would say that this year’s birthday is the worst to date. On my birthday, the person closest to my heart deceived me. A few days after my birthday, I discovered that he had been lying and cheating on me.

The things that happened recently are memories I’d like to forget for the rest of my life. I’ve definitely made mistakes that probably led to the shit I’m going through, but somehow, I can’t help but be angry toward the people who played parts in the plot.

Part of me wants revenge but I’ve come to realize that getting even will not make me happy. If anything, it will only bring me guilt that should only be felt by the people who have hurt me.

I’ve realized that you know you love someone, when you are prepared to forgive him for the biggest sin he could ever commit against you: unfaithfulness. Can you imagine how much it hurts to know that you’ve been sleeping with a man who, at the same time is sleeping with another woman? Another woman who is also involved with another man. God knows, how many other men are in her life. But this cheap slut does not deserve any more attention from me. She’s a nightmare I’d like to leave alone. And if I could have one wish today, I would wish for God to remove all damnable thoughts of her and the person I love.

I love Denver with all my life and I regret being unable to give enough of myself to the man that I love.

He hurt me and so I gave him the freedom to choose what he really wants in his life. A carefree life with his so called fling or a difficult life with great responsibility. Whatever decision he makes, I told him that he will never lose his son because I could never take that away from them both.

Denver chose the difficult path but I do not know how long he can endure it. He is young and although I want to have him in my life, I am not sure if he can remain true to his word. There are simply things that cannot be forced. His decision and how he stands by his decision will be the ultimate test of his character.

Although I have made the choice to forgive and start from a clean slate, I can’t help but doubt. I’ve forgiven him but I have lost faith in him. A friend told me that I should slowly start trusting him. But I’m terrified.

Sometimes I just look at my son and tell myself that we will be okay even if his father and I become separated. I’ve never been an advocate of staying together for the sake of a child. I made the decision to stay with Denver because I love him and not because I’m scared that my son will be without a father. Denver made a decision to stay with me. I pray to God that he did it for the right reasons. Whatever his motives are, I believe that there should only be one reason.

I’ve become a cynic because of recent events. Maybe one day, my faith in him will be restored. Maybe one day, he will wear out because of my doubts. I only want one thing from him. The truth no matter how much it hurts.

You can guess that I never got the shoes that I wanted for my birthday. His birthday gift for me were pictures of the whore saved in his phone, her photo in his wallet and confirmation that they fucked each other. Sad isn’t it?

Now how can I move on without hurting too much?