I’ve been meaning to write about this one. Call it a tribute to a band that saved my last year of college. I was going through a bad breakup, but then every one of my breakup is a bad one. So, nothing new. But this one is kinda critical to my life. I’d consider it my first serious attempt of a relationship. A reluctant relationship, but still, a serious one. It was the first time in my life I had an 11-month relationship. Imagine! Me, having endure that long period of time. It wasn’t easy and I wasn’t definitely not coming out of it unscathed.
Relationship for me is always a battle. Usually always ended with me as a wounded victim (or survivor, depends on how long after the relationship end you asked me) and an evil, evil man on the other side. This one was nothing new. After my third one, it’s just boring, you know? I know the drill.
You met someone. Think they were so awesome, so new and shiny. Then like a bottle of soda that has been opened too long, it fell flat. After you know them, it was just routine. And believe me, this one was a very interesting fella with a lot of experiences. He showed me things and taught me stuff. But still, in the end, he bored me. Of course, at the time I wasn’t telling him that I was bored, no. I told him, he was mean. That he was too unpredictable. He was evil and unholy. That this wasn’t right. I still tell myself those things sometimes. Sometimes it felt good to know that men are still hurting you. Fucked up, I know. Tell that to my 16-year-old self. She is definitely the starting point. It makes you feel good sometimes, to know that you still hurt, that you are still the victim and not the one inflicted the pain.
It’s definitely the narrative I choose, a poor girl traumatized by all the bad shit and terrible men in her life, grew up to be a tough girl but fixated to bad boys. Though over the year it’s no longer true. Yes, daddy’s a bad husband, but he was a good father. My first man may be not the ideal first love, but it was a long time ago, how long can I milk that story of betrayed and cheated high schooler? The other men may be not all good, but it happens to everyone. I am not special.
And that’s the punch of the year that I’m not special. That my pain was ordinary. So the writings stop. But the writer in me refused. No. If misery won’t pay attention to me, I’ll make him love me.
That’s how it all started. The very first time we met, I know this man was up to no good. The glint of his eyes was off, yet captivating.
You can ride with me.
I’ll speed it up.
Hang on to me, or else you will fall.
These words he said, even a kid would have sense the danger dripping off him. So I gave him my smile. My smile wasn’t the only thing he wanted.
Anyway, fast forward to 9 month later, I’ve seen it all. At least, I’ve seen all the things he could offer. He was frustrated. I was bored. He was confused. I was unhappy. We were like gasoline and fire. We love passionately and we hate ferociously. I thought it would be nice when the bomb went off. Instead I was standing in ruin and wondering what the fuck I was doing. I would be lying if I wasn’t hurt even though I was the one who pull the trigger, the bullet ricochets.
I was raw and one of my dear friend knew that I wasn’t in a good place. She introduced me to this song. We were sitting at a coffee place I like. She gave me one of her ear buds and I’m in love.
Dance, Dance by Fall Out Boy was flowing and I felt much better. The rawness of the tune and the hit-on lyrics made me smile.
I’m two quarters and a heart down,
And I don’t want to forget how your voice sounds.
These words are all I have so I’ll write them.
So you need them just to get by.
I could write you pages of words, rambling and ranting, and it wouldn’t be as clear as these line that Pete Wentz wrote. And the words
This is the way they’d love, if they knew how misery loved me.
Then and there, I was at peace. Although I still required to act disgusted, I knew what happened. I knew what he was. And, yes, the moment I unmasked him the very first time we met, he saw right through me and saw me for I am. That’s why he loved me the way he did. That’s why he treated me the way he did. Because he knew what I’m worth. Because he knew what I am. And that’s what I’m deserved. That’s what I want. Misery. And he gave me just that.