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This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.

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Tuesday, February 26, 2013

entry arrow6:52 PM | Heartbreak Part 14

Why do I worry that he cannot love me? Is my life incomplete without his love? Every day I tell myself that such infatuation—because I refuse to believe it is anything else but an infatuation—cannot be the center of me, and I make a good show of going about my days bearing with the weight of adult cares and the haphazard pursuit of the good life—and yet, in my quiet moments, when things go still and all I have left is the shattering intimacy of my own company, my mind searches for meaning that only the heart understands in secret but does not yield readily the answers. I tell myself so many things. I tell myself, Enough. I tell myself, You have gone through these before, the tremors of heartbreak you thought you could not survive, but did. I tell myself, What else can you do for love without bankrupting your sanity? But it all boils down to a heart-wrenching truth I understand only the way the dying stars feel their own dimming: that he cannot love me. How does one bear such awful truth.

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