<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar/8544954735522436478?origin\x3dhttp://janinedelrosario.blogspot.com', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>
  In The Flesh

The name's Janine.
Born on the 29th of May.
Middle School English teacher

Why Full Frontal Nudity?
Any message?

ENTER


  Find Me All Around


  Site Visits

    Creative Commons License
Wednesday, April 4, 2012

I just had this sudden realization... My current relationship with J isn't just going in circles; it's going downhill. I can see the same fucked up pattern that my relationships took in the past. With A, with J (the ex)... In the beginning, it was sooooo okay. Then it got stagnant. That was understandable. But at this same point, I get to see sides of the person I'm with and actually think if this is what I want to deal with for the rest of my life.

Had a chat with a good friend over the phone two nights ago. Told me I had this need to "fix" people.  And that all the guys I end up with are either weird or undeniably damaged. I can't help it. I attract people who are "damaged" and I am, at the same time, attracted to them. I need to do a little research...

 So... after doing a little research (Yes, a huge pause in the middle of the post. Tee-hee.), I came across a few blogs by women who claim to have this weird attraction to so-called "damaged goods". (See blog post here.) Interesting to know that other women actually fall for the same guys as I do.

 I tend to go for the "Spock" guys. I mean good men, smart men, who at first get off on how emotional and spontaneous and fun I am. They enjoy the chase and the game, but once they've got me hooked, they return to their previously scheduled life and expect that I'll be there, because I've professed and shown love for them. I mean, they really are good men, but maintaining a relationship always falls somewhere below work and self actualization, such as furthering their education, working on their spirituality etc. They tend toward perfectionism and always have a reasonable justification about why I fall low on their list of priorities. - Wolvenchick

Do I expect too much? Am I such a relationship drag that I always have this need to be put on their list of priorities? Don't get me wrong. J's a good man. A good boyfriend, in fact. But sometimes, I just have this craving for attention and I simply do not know how to ask for it. He has other priorities. I get it. He has his job (which takes up most of his time), his family (I can't argue with this one), his "me-time", etc. Oh, well.

Reading that blog of his ex, though, made me think. He was like that before. These were the same reasons why the girl left him in the first place. He promised her a future. A good life. The M word always came up. But no. Plans remained plans. No movement. Stagnant. When he talks, he rambled about anything and everything for a good thirty minutes, and he doesn't even notice that the people he talks to drift away from the conversation already. The ex calls him a "narcissistic immature ass". Ouch there.

 "Maybe because you put up with things like that more than others would."  

Maybe. Maybe I'm too accepting when I'm in love. Maybe my tolerance for "damaged people" is high, given that I deal with kids and those with special needs all the time. Then again, who isn't damaged? Hmm...

Eveyone has issues. When two people are brought together by either fate or sheer coincidence, they are forced to deal with each other's issues and differences. And what makes successful relationships work isn't the lack of issues and arguments but the ability of both "damaged" people to sort and work things out the best way they can.

At this point, all I can do is write (rather, type) things down. It's therapeutic. Like I don't have to do anything, but it makes me feel okay.

P.S. I just realized how bipolar this post sounds. :))

Labels: , ,


Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Here.

When I have nowhere else to rant, I turn to this blog. Nobody reads my posts here, which is why it feels so free writing here. The need to rant is satisfied, without me worrying if my grammar stinks or if my entries make sense.

J's back from Sydney. Called right after I sent the message. Which is a little annoying, given I was actually waiting for him to make the move this time. But anyway. Said he brought chips (I just love Thins), a big box of chocolates from his Tita, and a bottle of sparkling wine (story behind this will be relayed soon enough). Cool, yeah. Lots of pasalubong from down under. Still doesn't change the fact that I saw what I saw last night... *shrugs*

Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Maybe my faith in our relationship is slowly minified by my own insecurities. Maybe it IS just me. I don't know. The timing just seems a little odd. I guess I need to step back and reflect on why these things are happening and why these thoughts are always in my head.

By the way, it's gonna be the first Good Friday I won't be spending with the family. Going to Angono to join J's family in the annual procession. That would mean sacrificing a weekend at the beach with the entire Visaya clan (my Lola's side from my Dad's side). Will the trip to Angono be worth giving up the weekend with my family? Jon said I had a choice. That I could choose to join my family and that the trip to Angono would be the last option. But hell, this is the first time I'd ever been invited to a boyfriend's "clan get-together"... Now what?

Again, rants. I am deeply sorry to whoever's gonna get to read this.

Labels: , ,