Flashbacks of the Love Paraiah

I am feeling love but I am not in love. Not romantically involved at the moment. The eternal love pariah. A self-proclaimed cross among Bridget Jones (for her pleasantly roundness and innocence), Carrie Bradshaw (for her intellectual weaponry and the love for fashion) and Charlotte York (for her never-ending well of hope, that one day she’ll meet the One) of the third kind. I felt a ‘love rush’ a few minutes ago for no apparent realistic reason. I was just going through some messages left in my phone’s inbox, and I know I have written this in my previous blog article, but hey, I am going to blab about it again now! Anyway, the experience was a ‘trip down memory lane’. Flashbacks of the love experiences flooded my very consciousness, while I was in the middle of a training with the People Living with HIV and AIDS here in India. I’ve really evolved into a more elaborate human being who could do multi-tasking in varying degrees of interests, from technical perspective to the must mundane ones.

I must admit that when I get hurt, I tend to become a self-centered, late-twenties, prematurely plagued by the mid-life crisis, self-important, egoistic, insecure bitch. Oh. That hurt. Cruel. Did I just say that to myself? Am horrible, in manner of Miranda from The Devil Wears Prada-Simon Cowell with a bit dash of the Axe Murderer. It was just a mere cyclical mechanism to feel the loathing pain all the more loathing and bleeding. Most often, I would try to make little conversations with THYSELF and convince that what a poor and pathetic creature I have become, over the many failed relationships. And self-acceptance that I was also to blame for all the heartbreaks doesn’t come cheap and easy. Meaning, it would usually take a cardiovascular activity like SHOPPING, in potentially increasing impulsiveness that would shame the Guinness Book of World Records for holding the fastest man to evaporate solid heavenly inventions called credit card and cash. But it was all worth it. The feeling of security and wholeness that I derive from the monochrome brands complete with all the trimmings and wrappings, surely overwhelms the weight that I have put on my financial setbacks and scary overdrafts.

Convinced though that I’ve worked hard and that the US$3,200 Raymond Weil Watch I gifted myself this season will make me a better person. Am nuts. Ran out of reason though why I bought that expensive watch. Lovely. Been staring at my watch since breakfast, which is fashionably placed on top of my Fendi vanity bag.

Must dash. Need to call my financial advisor in the Philippines a.k.a. Dad.