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Per Ardua Ad AstraI am appalled by your grave need to lie to me, to what, impress me? To make me admire you as what has now been the common notion of a gentleman? Is a gentleman he who plays, who has ten girls left and right, who can treat a lady amazingly just like another? Is that how bad it has become that your ideals have shifted to such image, and you felt the need for that quality to be incorporated in you that you had to lie? What is it about being yourself that makes it so hard for you? What is it that makes you want to stray from the most beautiful thing that could free you of all the doubt in the world? Was it so hard to be comfortable in your skin that you had to make up stories to be someone else? For your information, that someone else you presented to me was not the ideal guy I would have wanted to be with. That was not impressive at all. It was sick. It was a sick, conceited and arrogant joke, and it was insensitive and thoughtless, mentioning the least. I have no clue whatsoever about your being compelled to serve your self-interest. What are you now, Hobbes' living experiment?! I don't know where you're coming from in all of this. I do not know how you even thought of such act. Yeah, your intentions may not have been the worst of the worst, but they certainly trodded upon some people along the way. You think lying doesn't hurt anyone? Well, here's a thought: IT DOES! You actually think that admitting to your lies could've brought everything off of your chest? You think it was as easy as that? Well guess what. This isn't even half of the hell I'm willing to break loose. You made me lose my confidence in you. The person you presented me with wasn't someone I would've loved and stuck to, but I did. And here I am, speaking genuinely about you when all this time, you presented yourself only to "impress" me. Dear, my standards aren't low. Please do not think you have to go that far to win me over. You already have. Isn't that enough? It must have been hard living with all those lies huh? Now it gets even more difficult because I am left clueless as to which things to believe! I have no idea which things to signify, to appreciate, to hate, to love. I don't know! And you leave me in this state thinking that all will be good and all will be fine, and all will be back to normal and we're going to have a happy ending, bow? That's it!? Hell no!
I am very, very disappointed in your Macchiavellian perception of how you should get by in life. It doesn't work that way, honey. Well at least not with me. I want to envelope the truest relationship I can. And every relationship before this one has always ended in a failure. I am shedding no light on the possibility that I -- we, come out of this thing defeated. Not in a million years! I thought for a second to let you go. I thought of being available again, with spears and guns outside the gates and walls I built around myself. I thought of shutting you out, because just the thought that you considered lying to me and actually doing it pains me sharper than glass cutting through my skin. I gave you so many chances to tell me the whole truth, yet everytime, you say that there is nothing more. And then after a few days, another lie comes up. What am I, the keeper of your lies? Am I some storybook you will look back upon one day; something that absorbs it and takes it all in such as that inanimate object would do? Dear, I am far from being emotionless. Last night, you stabbed me with the most torturous of thoughts: that this relationship, despite its being THE relationship, is bound to crumble here and there, and that every step is not easier than the first. I should've thought of this before submitting to anything. I loved you for who you are. But who are you now?
It all boils down to one thing: that being far from you presents nothing but an unending chronological die-down crashing as if they were testing us each day. I am of no right to ask you to come forth with a ring. I am in no position to ask you to stay here with me. What then do we do? ...... Love, before deciding to live with me, please do a little soulsearching. Cos I will not be able to do it for you. And neither will you if your beliefs are in your lies.
I guess having lost my entire sidebar will not work for me, but it's no reason either to start anew. =)
I am Jik. I believe in miracles, and I believe in hope. I am not prude nor old-fashioned even though I believe that Love is very real and that it governs the world. I am not selfish even though I may be materialistic. I am not weak even though I sometimes crumble down to my knees. I am not poor even though I have very little in my bank account. I try to embody what courage is all about and I try to do everything in spontaneity. I invest a whole lot of passion in anything I do, and I am and always will be a dreamer. I admire people who uphold their beliefs in life, as I try to do so myself. I always strive for the perfection of character, and make myself into the person I want to become. I seek for the greater scheme of things, the tapestry of how everything falls into an exquisite, sublime plan. And my greatest fortune is having found the secret of my life. This I intend to share with all of you someday.
Makulit. Malikot. Mababaw. I'm thumbelina, sweetie, choknat, bitch, bastard, bruhilda, gaga, bubwit, baby, hoebag, dumbass, jiffy, jikinini, jikydoodles, gicgic, jikulit, jikywiky, jikaru, jikers, jikee, jikijik, jikjik, jik, jixie, jikita, jikita banana, jikitita, jikaboo, or what have you. I'm the Jik you know and ever will know.