Girl On Pedestal

So i finally found this again! was browsing my first blog site.. its a really nice story! its quite long but worth it!

Saturday, March 18th, 2006
Credit To: Tristan Cafe

From one fight to another, from one kind deed to
another, I always found a reason to stay — and to
keep on believing. But now after the last few drops of
tears have dried, I have finally found my place. Out
of his life.
I’ve always tried to help friends get
through their romantic dilemmas by asking them, "Is it
worth it?" Now I am haunted by the same question and
my very active mind can come up with only two words:
IT WAS. I’ve come to terms with the fact that this is
my stop. This is where I get off. This is when I cut
the rope.
I will always have very fond memories of
Ryan, and the man he almost was. I can recall the few
big fights and the not-so-interesting disputes we had,
but I choose to remember with a smile the four years
we were close to each other.
There was always a reason to keep the
relationship, the friendship that forever was just
that, friendship. There was more than one attempt to
take it to another level, but always I found myself
where I had left off: the girlfriend substitute, the
meantime girl. Always almost, but not quite.
Now I find myself running out of reasons. I
have come face to face with the reality that he was
never the best friend that I was to him all along. It
was just a label, a term I could use to describe what
he was to me and what we had for each other. I wanted
more. And it took me this long to finally realize that
I could not have what I wanted. Not with Ryan. So
what’s the point of settling for mere friendship?
I always advise my friends, "Know what you
want and stick to it." I have always known what I
wanted, but unfortunately, he didn’t want me the same
way.
Once again, I am going trough this tug-of-war over
what I want and what I deserve, and I know I deserve
more. After my true feelings surfaced, I began to
acknowledge the fact that I was fixated on his looks.
The rest was just part of the illusion I had created
in my mind, just like the reasons that were not
supposed to be there.
Painful, yes, but still bearable. When you
have finally run out of answers and all that’s
comforting you are mere possibilities, won’t you get
tired, too? I always ask; I never assume.
If there was any beauty in our relationship,
it was that we were conscious about telling the truth,
no matter how silly, foolish or painful. All along he
was telling me that i was just a friend. Some of his
actions seemed to say otherwise, but that was, of
course, to someone who chose to see more. He would
tell our friends that I was the ideal, or that if ever
he would get into a serious relationship, it would
have to be someone of my caliber or better. So there I
was again, the girl on a pedestal, but never in his
arms.
Despite all this, I stayed on, hoping that
I would in time be able to serve my purpose even as
his friend, not necessarily his best friend, just a
friend. Why? Because I found fulfillment in making him
know them man that he was to me. Because we were both
convenient. There were good and bad reasons, but after
all that was said and done, it was because I was happy
most of all. Then I would wake up one morning not
feeling the same way anymore, less hopeful but more
certain that I wanted more.
I have given it enough time — for us to
grow, for us to be the better persons that we are now.
I would like to think that I gave it enough chance
already. I would like to believe that someday when our
paths cross again, we will see each other in the arms
of people who deserve us best, who are willing to love
us more than we did each other, people who are meant
to be "chosen" and not someone we had to settle for.
I have given it my best — all I have got,
in fact — and I can only give so much. The same with
Ryan. If it were right, I wouldn’t be trying so hard.
Now I have reached this decision, the
decision to say enough. And when you say enough, you
have to mean its over.
It has been a struggle. In my heart, though,
I know that I will be okay. I have to be. My best
friend, whom I visit during lunch breaks at the
nearest church, reminds me that the shortest distance
between my struggle and relief is as short as the
distance between my knees and the floor.
Funny how when we were all little, we could
not wait for the day when we would finally grow up
and fall in love — only to realize that it was so
much easier to deal with scarred knees than broken
hearts. When my sister told me this, I realized that I
was no longer a little girl. I have scarred my knees
more than once and had my heart broken thrice. But I
am still looking forward to the falling and rising,
and everything in between.