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• 2003 - Dedication to MCAT Girl

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It's 4 in the morning as I sit here writing this.  Why is it that I always stay up so late, despite my best efforts to hit the sack earlier?  Actually, I was good tonight.  I worked on one of my final term papers.  I didn't finish, but at least I worked on it.  I still have tomorrow night so I'm not stressed yet. =)

My friend told me today that he ran into L last week.  It seems she hasn't changed, all her talk revolves around money and she's always in a rush to leave.  I don't understand how people like her can play with a guy's head then.  What's so good about a girl who's only into money and likes to mess with a guy's head?  When I think back of all the girls I know, and I compare them all, like L versus MCAT girl, there's just no comparison.  One is sincere and the other isn't.  Though they may both be high maintenance, one is good to herself, not expecting it from others, while the other expects it from others.  And one thinks too low of herself while the other thinks too highly of herself.  I'll let you decide which one is which!

I've been thinking recently what it is I'm looking for in a girl.  You told me recently that my standards are just way too high, almost unattainable.  Are they really?  Is it because I'm picky, or is it because I'm so bitter over love that I'm purposely setting everyone up to fall short of expectations, so that I will never have to be hurt again? Or am I subconsciously comnparing everyone to you?

In that vein, here are at least some of the characteristics I would like in my soul mate: 

They say that memories are tainted with the effects of nostalgia, and that things aren't really as you remember them.  In that case, I want to write this down before I forget, so that years from now, I'd be able to see my thoughts and feelings clearly.  Thanks for M for giving me this idea with his little baseball documentary.

It's one of those instances in my life that I haven't shared with anyone.  And if the subject ever came up, I just give a slight smile as I reminisce.  No comment.  Like I've said before, some things are better left a secret.

I sit there waiting for you in the morning sun.  The sounds of water glisten behind my back and I close my eyes as I let the heat beat down on my face.  When I open them, as if in a dream, I see you coming towards me, and for that instant, nothing else exists.  All I see is you and your sweet smile, and I know then that this is what life is all about. At that moment, I know what happiness truly means.  My nervousness and anxiety quickly disappear as familiarity and comfort set in.  I remember that you accept me for who I am, and when you look at me, it's as if you can see straight through me.  You're not here to judge me.  You're not here to play with my mind.  You're just here to see me and to spend some time with me.  And I know that for the next few hours, I'll feel more alive then I've been in a long long time.

As we stroll along the little rows of shops and restaurants, conversing about our lives, we are oblivious to the sounds of children running around.  Stopping to gaze at the Ferris Wheel and the Merry-Go-Round, your eyes shine a radiating glow.  I can see the marvel in your eyes, the twinkle that shows that you're really enjoying yourself.  And that makes me more happy than you can possibly imagine. 

We settle down to eat in a quant little seafood restaurant, with the smell of the ocean providing just the right ambiance.  The waitress comes by to grab our drinks.  A Coke for me.  A Diet Coke for you.  The usual, just like it's always been.  She leaves and we continue our pleasant conversation.  About what, I can't remember.  Besides, the details don't matter.  When the waitress comes back, we both laugh.  Having been so wrapped up in small talk, we didn't even look at the menus.  She gives us a few more minutes as we frantically glance over the choices.

Throughout lunch, you tell me all that's going on in your life.  Your problems, your successes.  Your hopes, your dreams.  I tell you about how my life is proceeding.  In so many ways, we share so many common things, and it always amazes me that we seem to get a long so well.  You smile and say that I'm just like you.  A guy version of you, and you're a girl version of me.  Soul mates.  As you speak, I stare into your eyes, trying to pierce your soul, unable to turn away from such a sight.  I lose myself in the continuing gaze, and I can only hope that you don't notice my obvious fixation.

After lunch, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, and then giggle when you realize that the restrooms are called "heads."  I smile as well, not just at the sign, but at the pleasant way your lips curl when you smile and the way your eyes bulge out when you want emphasize the extraordinary.  We leave the restaurant and continue our walk, passing through the midday.  Walking past a row of fountains, you surprise me by asking me a question, and instead of continuing, you sit down at the side of one of the long fountains. 

As we sit there, I find myself talking to someone in a way that I haven't in many a year.  We look at each other straight in each other's eyes as the words come out, neither willing to break the invisible bond.  It is then that the wind picks up and the long strands of your hair blow back and forth in front of your face.  You constantly try to curl them behind your ear, first on the right side, and then the left, and then the right again, all the while failing to keep them hidden.  You do it so often, you're not even conscious of it, but I am.

Listening to your sweet voice, I think to myself as I look into your eyes, slightly covered by you hair blowing in the soft breeze... you're beautiful.

I don't know how long we sit there, but we don't leave until the wind finally picks up, blowing the water from the fountain into a fine mist that showers us unexpectedly.  You jump from your seat, I close my eyes readying for the cold.  And then we both laugh.  It's time to go.

As we walk back past the row of restaurants that we came across earlier, I point out a nice little ice cream parlor that I know to be absolutely delightful.  Too bad you're still full from lunch.  You tell me how you love ice cream and chocolate, but you hate milk.  "It smells like cows" you say.  I laugh and mock you, saying that both ice cream and cake has milk in it.  And so we continue walking.  And then the most pleasant thing happens.  We turn a corner, finding a nice little terrace filled with chairs and tables.  In the center is an inverted fountain spouting small streams of water from giant turtle statues.  Little water droplets shoot up every now and then from invisible circles carved out of the earth.  Children run in and out, trying not to get wet and failing miserably, not caring that they were soaked to the bone. 

Without knowing it, we both sit down again and continue talking.  How we find the words to continue interesting each other, I do not know, but even if it were completely silent, you'd still have my full attention.  As I sit there, I know I don't want the day to end, and yet I know it must.  A little while later, we both get up and start heading out back to our cars and back to our separate lives.

As I walk you, I wonder when it will be that I feel as warm again.  You give me a hug and I wish that I could freeze this moment in time.  I get into my own car, watching as you put on a hat, placing the long strands of your hair through the back hole.  You put on your sunglasses and I can no longer see your eyes.  And you smile and wave to me as we both drive off.  I feel sad at seeing you leave, but I feel happy as well..  I guess this is what love is, the ability to let go and to be happy for someone else. 

If I don’t need you then why am I crying on my bed?
If I don’t need you then why does your name resound in my head?
If you’re not for me then why does this distance maim my life?
If you’re not for me then why do I dream of you as my wife?

Daniel Bedingfield
If You're Not The One

I went to the school programming competition yesterday with a couple of my friends.  We've had the same team ever since I've been at the school, and it's kind of sad that this was our last competition together.  Last semester, we ended up being one of three teams that represented the school.  So how did we do this time?  Second place baby!  I'm still kicking myself in the ass for making such stupid mistakes that cost us several problems, but oh well, everyone makes mistakes.  What did we win?  We got laptop bags, cups, pens, certificates, and a nice crisp $50 bill.  I'm gonna have me a dinner this weekend =)

This coming week is the last really big week of schoolwork that I have.  I have a group project still that I have to work on, and a research paper and presentation that I have to prepare for on Thursday.  But besides that, there's nothing left but finals and small assignments.  I find myself lethargic as I sit here typing my thoughts instead of researching for my paper.

Despite all my work that I still have left and all that I went through last week, I still found time to do a lot of reading.  Whoever said that books are a dying breed in today's ever increasing digital world must not have read much.  There's something powerful about immersing yourself in the written word, falling in love with the characters, and not being able to put the book down until the sun rises.  It's a method of escapism.  It lets you dream and be idealistic in a society that punishes you for being sincere.

Not only am I still reading all the Sparks books, I found myself finishing two over the past week or so.  The first story, The Rescue, is a story about love as a means of salvation.  I really found the main child in the novel, Kyle, simply amazing.  It made me think of my own  nephew and I wonder more now if he possesses the same disorder that plagues Kyle. 

The second story, A Bend In The Road, is about letting go of the past, with love acting as a means towards forgiveness.  Of all the characters in all the books I've read so far, I seem to like Sarah the most.  In many ways, she envelops many of the traits that I'm looking for in my soul mate.

Many people have called me an idealist... a dreamer... a romantic.  In many ways, I've always hoped that fairy tales were true and that one day, I'd find my princess and I'd be her knight in shining armor.  I grew up watching movies like the Condor Heroes, thinking that love is simple, that it conquers all, and that it's eternal.  But the sad fact of the matter is that it isn't and it doesn't.  In reality, love is complicated.   People have many faces and facets to who they really are.  Girls marry for security and money.  Guys marry for looks and a trophy wife.  People get played left and right, and those nice enough to openly risk their heart are likely to get burned.  We all hide behind a guise of how we want others to perceive us. 

I don't know if any of you noticed, but I got a link on my guestbook from Amy and Clay.  What's kind of strange is that immediately after that, I got a post from Frank, and he had her exact same last name.  This got me interested, and so I decided to look at what the site is about.  Through the next 24 pages, I read the story of how Amy cheated on her husband Frank, manipulated her lover Clay, and played several other men out there, lying and crying her way to lavish gifts and expenses.  She played both of them, creating a web of lies and deceit, dangling them just far enough and reeling them in at certain times to her liking.  Frankly, by the end of it all, I was disgusted.  She disgusts me.  It's people like her and my ex's that have turned me off of my idealistic view of relationships.  And that's why I'm so unwilling to go out there and look for another one.  Yet another reason why I find that most girls can't be trusted.  Like Kelly Bundy once said, "Girls are all liars and you guys are all idiots."