006

Platonic friendships. My friend and I were having one heck of a debate on the subject. He was telling me how males and females can never be friends. I, of course, disagree because I have a quite a few male friends, and I don't ever go out and make friends with people of the opposite sex only if I think I could sleep with them. That's absurd. But my friend believes that the platonic coexistence is a facade covering up the sexual impulses that lies beneath the surface.

"Most of the guys in your life do think you're an amazing person. But they all or most think you're hot and would bone you if they had a chance. They're waiting for an opportunity. That is the only reason why they are still in your life." Exaggerated much? But I guess he's saying there's this desire for things you can't have. Being friends with “taken” friends shows that there are boundaries that actions will not go, but thoughts will go. Women tend to be more sensitive to their male friends’ relationship status and uninterested in pursuing those who were already involved with someone else.

But overall... how disturbing. I get that there is some truth to it. Everyone wants romance, and in these relationships, it lurks around the corner, waiting to pounce at the most inopportune moment. I guess gender differences experience the opposite-sex friendships differently, hence why these platonic friendships do not really exist. Females believes it it does. Males knows it doesn't.

In most scenarios, he explains, men are attracted to their female friends than vice versa, but men are misguided by the flirting or just the female being responsive and nice as "SHE WANTS THE D". [Me rolling my eyes here.] Females, on the other hand, are oblivious and assumed that the lack of attraction was mutual. As a result, men consistently overestimated the level of attraction felt by their female friends, and women consistently underestimated the level of attraction felt by their male friends.

As much as I understand my friend's point of view, I still disagree. I honestly think most of my friendships with the opposite sex are mutual. There are exceptions to his theory. My friends are the exceptions. Case closed.

What are your thoughts on platonic friendships?

Until next post,
K

005

Spent this morning looking through the trunk of my friend's car for more comfortable shoes and water. I stumbled upon a box of my old things I lost during my move. There was a journal filled with old thoughts and memories. I shall randomly post some on here. You can decipher if they're current or old. In line for a greasy breakfast to cure this hangover before the drive home, so I'll write.
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Before the sun rose and the fog thinned out, I sat under a tree that I sat under while I was in college. It was a tree where I spent my time watching people - watching them race time to class, watching them cram as much knowledge as they can in 10 minutes, and watching them fall in love. I miss that feeling of calm. Anything is better than the constant "fight-or-flight" mode I'm in lately.

Matters of hearts are pretty resilient, they say. But for the hopeless romantic deep within me... my recoveries from any kind of heartache are slow. I need time. I've been told that I have a big heart. The bigger the heart, the heavier it is to hold, and more so, the harder it falls.

I wasn't comfortable with advocating any kind of relationship having the other deal with a heart that he didn't break, knowing all too well what might happened. It's like this cycle. You get hurt. You hurt others. Karma in a different way, I suppose. It was this instinct. I wanted to protect him before I even knew him... even though I knew he was more capable of hurting me.

In these kinds of situations, I'm always torn between opportunities and possibilities - the could be’s and should be’s. With him, I didn't know if it was my pride, ego, or if it was fear, but I felt like I had to take flight. I held back. I didn't want to feel. But I did. I did.

Sometimes I overestimate people and I put my faith in them when I had my doubts in the first place. I'm not naive. I'm not new. But when someone constantly put out so much effort, or tries to gain your trust, you soften that facade you put up, and meet up for a lunch date... and eventually just let them in your mind, and eventually your heart. It's funny how easily we get attached to someone we have known for a short time. It's even funnier to feel sad when that someone starts to value you less. You can't say much. You can't complain because it was nothing. You were just attached, not committed.

It's ironic. Most say that I'm impossible... to keep. I leave. I disappear. It’s not burning bridges. It’s me getting over it. It’s me loving myself enough to know that I deserve more than what I want from certain situations.

I hate that I was right about him.

It is what it is. Everything is momentary. It's what you do with it. It is what you make it to be. Choices were made, and every choice has its consequence. My choice lost him. His choice lost me.

004

Monday’s. This school term, it’s the day of the week that I dread the most. I finally understand Monday blues. But I woke up today, and had time to center myself and allowed myself to feel thankful. It’s Canadian Thanksgiving afterall.

I’m an observer. I’ve learned that people are not always what they appear to be. I’ve come across two-week friendships, people with ulterior motives who only seek human contact when mutual-benefits are provided, name droppers and shot callers. It’s almost never “you get what you give.” Although I still live with that motto because I believe in good karma and common courtesy, I’ve learned to trust my instincts and not my heart. I’d rather be alone than be around people I don’t trust. It’s always have been that way, and it shall remain that way.

With that said, I really feel that I am one of the luckiest ducks in the world. The love for my family (the people that I actually consider family), and the value of my friends (the very small handful that stuck by me through my roughest times) cannot be described in words. I only want what’s real – real people with real feelings… and I am blessed to have that. I stopped looking at the meager number of people I have in my life, and began to look at the people. It nearly took my breath away. When you stop looking at what you don’t have, and begin looking at what you do have, you will find that you have more than you need. There are moments where I want more (like yesterday… because I’m an emotional rollercoaster these days), but I’ve never mistaken those wants as needs.

Although I don’t show my feelings, and seldomly let people in. Once I love, I love hard… and I love true. Just keep it real and the world is your oyster.

I should pay attention in class now.

Eat well. Until next post. Anon.

003

Been writing a lot more. Less filtered things on paper. Helps unclutter my thoughts and make some sense of the madness. To update – I’ve made appointments and travel plans. Most of midterms are over!! Most. Now, I just got to worry about community health projects and writing proposals. Clinic requirements are a mile long, and apparently, I’m barely on the first lap. It never ends.

I’ve been back on track and making life fulfilling in the most reclusive way. The only way I liked since I can recall. Handwriting letters that I never send out, and scrapbooking old movie stubs and random novelties from memorable nights. The other half is spending it in my car finding good fuel for the soul. I toured around my books and movies and shows with a mix of menage a trois wine and conversations.

I have spent years in a city so big that felt so small - so small that the air supply is enough only during the time you sleep. And losing myself in time itself and not knowing which day it is or laughing between streets and corner bookstores. For some reason, you’ll meet people who you let inside for the seconds of the day that are gone just as fast. I am now only in the comfort of being in a quiet place and drowning out noises of bikes, cars, and arguments - the patter of the shower, the baths to self indulge in. And yet, I want more.

I want more.

002

The last time I remember writing of anything was when I got caught up under blinding lights and lines of communication with bloody noses. And I’ve been done past years it seems. I’m going to make this post long to make up for lost time.

It’s been a rough few weeks, to say the least. I just carried on with life the best way I know how until I received a call that slapped me in the face. The tumor is back. It was the first time in a long time that I almost lost my composure in public. But I just kept my cool, finished my exams, finished my lab work… and went home and had the longest cry of my life.

I remember the last time. I went into a frenzy state. I read the Bible cover to cover a dozen times trying to find answers, clues… comfort. I prayed a lot. It wasn’t until I talked to my dad, and he took me to the temple to mediate. And through meditation for months, I felt like myself again. I get the “You’re going to Hell” speech every time I tell people I feel like I'm in between a Christian and Buddhist, but all rivers flow to one ocean. I still pray for my family and friends every night. As long as you live life with intention… live a life that you give back to… you’ll be okay. Well, I hope so.

I do believe I’ve lived trying to always give back. I don’t expect anything when I do things for others. I do them because… why not? I do them because I can. Most often times I go out of my way, bend over backwards for people, especially the people I let in. But when you give and give, and they take and take… you kind of give so much of yourself that you end up losing yourself. “Stop swimming across oceans for people who won't jump a puddle for you.” That’s my problem... I can’t. No matter how much I know it takes out of me, I do it. And that problem lead me here. Right at this moment… I think I’ve lost myself, and I no longer have much to give.

Here I am… on the balcony of my apartment, just listening to the sounds of cars and the faint whistle of the wind… writing with no direction. I reflected on my life the past few years, and I’m feeling… defeated. Giving up med school was a big life decision. I know that. Do I regret it? On some days. But I trust my instincts, and my instincts told me to stop calculating every step of life, and just live. Suddenly, I no longer had a job, so I packed up my bags and decided to move out of my comfort zone. I found something I love to do that’ll give me the luxury of time. Well, not yet. After these gruesome few years of school. 245 days, but who’s counting?

I am just not where I want to be right now. My life feels chaotic. Anxiety is at an all-time high. What do I take from all of this? Have I stayed dormant these past few years? What have I learned since I’ve been out of my comfort zone? Let’s see... The past few years in Los Angeles, I’ve learned to forgive – fully forgive people. Let go – completely let go. I’m still working on the whole “self-love” thing, but there’s progress. I’m an introvert. I find being alone comforting. Feeling alone – different story. But I’ve been trying to lower the walls I put up and let people peek in. That allowed me to meet a lot of people I would have deemed as not worth the effort. I’ve met all colors of the spectrum. The amazing. The brilliant. The bright. The douchebags. The assholes. I've stopped trying to read people, and let them work their charm on me. Not going to lie… that've hurt me a few times. One recently actually. But that’s life.

So a string of phone calls are in need to be made for appointments that I will dread and fear. I need a few days/weeks to recoup. I may also need a warm hug, positive thoughts, and some french fries. Blegh. I feel like a fish swimming against the tide. But I’ll make it out okay. I always do.

Well, that was my Monday.