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The Philotherapist

The Philotherapist

Category Archives: Relationships

Year 28

13 Sunday Nov 2016

Posted by thephilotherapist in Faith, Familiy, Goals, Personal Development, philosophy, psychology, Relationships

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birthdays, blog, goals, gratitude, intention, law blog, life, love, non-fiction, positive

Birthdays are always nostalgic, but let’s be honest, it takes very little to tip me into nostalgia.

If I had to pick a theme, I’d say year 27 was about unfinished business; I finished what I had started (#lawyered) and it was all very, very business.  

Undoubtedly, the biggest accomplishment of year 27 was being finally admitted to the legal profession. A journey that started well over the 1418 days ago when I arrived to Australia to start law school.

I have set a different intention for Year 28; Year 28 is about beginnings, balance and beauty.

The beginning of new goals, new relationships, new adventures.

Finding balance between creating the life I want and enjoying the life I have created.

And recognizing the beauty in all of the above.

 

#28andgreat

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Still am. 

04 Thursday Aug 2016

Posted by thephilotherapist in Faith, fiction, Goals, My Journey, philosophy, psychology, Relationships, Uncategorized

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I still am…

reactive. emotional. intense. overwhelming. elusive. sarcastic. dramatic. naive. immature. codependent. independent. petty. evil. hurt. jaded. jealous. small. cocky. tenacious. persistent. annoyingly persistent. adamant. stubborn. a believer. reluctant to believe. conflicted. honest. hesitant. hidden. analytical. observant. selective. boundless. guarded. unwanted. desired. a try-hard. a tries-too-hard. determined. disciplined. self-doubtful. angry. enraged. resilient. inadequate. over-thinker. passionate. eager. anxious. misguided. misinterpreted. compassionate. argumentative. irrational. ignorant. educated. wise. oblivious. strong. straightforward. verbose. performer. powerful. hungry. lustful. aggressive. insatiable. competitive. arrogant. guilty. remorseful. sorry. condemned. romantic. hopeful.

I still am more than words, actions, and feelings in conflict with one another. More so now than ever.

I still am human and Istill aspire to be more than that. Sometimes I still delude myself into believing I am.

I still struggle every day (for a better tomorrow).

I no longer fight without fear of pain or failure because I know what pain and failure feels like (now). So I fight to avoid that pain, I fight to avoid that failure. 

Sometimes I win. 

Sometimes I retreat to fight another day.

Always fighting (if only with myself). Always struggling (if only to keep up with my own expectations). Always hoping (that one day, it will all be worth it). 

Growing Pains 

29 Friday Jul 2016

Posted by thephilotherapist in Faith, Fitness, Goals, Law School, My Journey, philosophy, psychology, Relationships

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There is always someone willing to do what you refuse to, or hesitate to do. Waiting. Anticipating.

A friend once told me, “life is adversity.” 

Buddhism has taught me, life is suffering. 

Prima facie, these notions appear pessimistic, though they are not. If we concede that life is suffering and full of struggles, we enable a happier life. Less disappointment. Less discouragement.

I try to exude positivity and joy, but it would be fallacious to say that I embody positivity and joy all the time.

Nor would I want to.

Dark times have the potential to turn friends into enemies and family into strangers. Dark times also have potential to be cultivated into something powerful.

I’m learning. Fumbling my way through this process of cultivating my (better) self. Writing, training, conversing with others and reflecting on all of the above have been the foundations for my development in this area.

I may not be there yet; but I am not who I used to be.

Admissions of Guilt/Love

05 Tuesday Jul 2016

Posted by thephilotherapist in fiction, Relationships, short story, Uncategorized

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She felt the knot in her stomach grow bigger as the confessions continued. Her chest tightened. Her eyebrows furrowed and a visible ripple of frustration rest upon her forehead. She tried to maintain composure as she listened to every horrendous detail of the reality she had long feared.

“How long?”

Devina didn’t know what to say.

“How long?”

She knew the answer would only further upset her, but she had to know.

“Listen… ”

Devina reached out to touch her arm.

“Don’t touch me!”

She recoiled and stepped back. She was disgusted by her friend and her habitual lying. They had arrived at the underground subway station and stood beside the automatic ticketing booths.

With narrowed eyes, she looked into Devinas’ with with piercing intensity, ready to unleash the anger that had been building over the past few blocks of their walking confessional.

She took a deep breath, maintained eye contact, and began to speak, but words failed her. With parted lips, she stood paralyzed. She clenched her jaw and struggled to swallow the lump that was growing in her throat. She was overwhelmed with emotion.

As she looked into Devina’s big blue eyes, she noticed they began to brim with tears. She looked at her best friend and felt her forehead relax. Her gaze softened as she struggled to fight back her own tears.

It’s not her fault. She can’t help it. 

Echoes of Devina’s confessions only grew louder. She turned away, her back facing Devina.

“Why would you hide that from me?” She shook her head in disappointment.

“You don’t trust me; or you think I’ll judge you. Do you know how much that sucks? You asked me to support you and all I’ve done is try to be there for you, give you what you needed from me, and in turn, you lie to me and hide things from me. ”

Devina reached over her shoulder.

No.

Suddenly, the lump in her throat had dissolved and her voice had returned.

“Dammit, Devina. What do you want from me? You knew this was going to upset me. You knew how it would make me feel. Don’t you get it? I don’t care that you two are talking again. I really don’t. You guys have history, I understand that. Hell, I even respect it, but the fact that you hid it from me and exclusively FROM ME. That’s shady. Everyone else knew and I sat there like a fool defending you. No, Dee told me she wouldn’t go back to him. Dee would’ve told me, of course I’d know, we’re best friends… I’m such an idiot.”

That struck a nerve with Devina and she retorted with equal attitude.

“You feel like an idiot? What about me? We stop talking and you two start talking to each other? You didn’t think that would bother me? The two people I was the closest to. Hooking up behind my back.”

“Oh, give me a break. When he walked back into your life, you pushed me out. Then you dumped him and started talking to me again. Now this comes up and you’re accusing us of hooking up behind your back? Please. Don’t give me this ‘the two people I was closest to’ bullshit. I’m not your standby.”

She noticed her voice getting louder and attracting attention. She didn’t want to create a scene, especially not in such a public space. She lowered her voice and stepped in closer to Devina.

“Look, we just have a lot in common and he’s turned out to be a good friend. He messaged me every day after my accident and we just continued talking. I wanted it to be you, I really did; but that’s not who you are; I get that and I don’t expect that from you. I didn’t even know I wanted that. I don’t know how to explain it. He was the friend to me that I try to be for everyone else. He was just.. there. always.”

“Well maybe I should just leave you two alone ‘cause clearly I’m the one that doesn’t belong.”

That was it, with complete and utter disregard of her surroundings, she snapped at Devina.

“Are you kidding me right now? The biggest thing we have in common was the fact that we loved YOU and lost YOU. It was always about you, Devina! Did it ever occur to you how hurting that is? There’s nothing going on between us, but clearly there’s something going on with you two. Otherwise, why you need to go behind my back. And him too. I should’ve known. When push comes to shove, you’ll always pick each other and I’m left out in the cold. Again. Screw that. Screw this. Screw both of you. And you know what sucks, is that we’ve been through this exact situation before and I told you. I told you when we started talking again that I don’t want to go through that again. This has, by far, been one of the most draining friendships I have ever had, and you know what, I keep coming back because its worth it. You’re worth it, but I can’t go through that again…  I won’t… I can’t…”

Her voice began to trail as she recalled the emotional roller coast she had been through with Devina over the past four years. Devina reached out and pulled her best friend close, hugging her tightly.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

She felt herself sink into Devina’s arms.

What am I doing?

She didn’t know what to think. Her head was throbbing. She could feel Devina’s cold ear pressed against her neck. They hugged in the middle of the subway station for what felt was an unusual length of time, but neither of them moved. They stood there in silence, in the middle of an underground subway station.

She didn’t know what was going through Devina’s head, but she could feel Devina’s breath following her own. Distracted by the synchronicity of it all, she realized her anger had dissipated.

She thought of breaking away from Devina, but she hesitated. She thought about the onlookers and how awkward they must look, but she couldn’t bring herself to step away; she didn’t want to. She felt confused. She felt conflicted. And amidst these emotions, another fear had been realized; she was head-over-heels, heart-wrenchingly in love with her best friend.

The Setup.

04 Monday Jul 2016

Posted by thephilotherapist in fiction, Relationships, short story

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Tags

creative writing, fiction, non-fiction, prose, writing

“Mmhmm…. Oh, that’s interesting… mmhhmm… oh, great” she pretended to pay attention as she continued reading the screen in front of her.

“Well then? What do you think?”

Busted.

She paused for a moment. What is she going on about? What do I think about what? I have a lot of thoughts. For example, I think this letter is overreaching, no way they have any evidence to back these claims. They’re just trying to intimidate the client. I’ll have to draft something up…  

“WELL?”

Right. Focus. What were we talking about. Just tell her she’s right. That’ll take care of it. 

“You know what’s best, ma.”

“Exactly. So you’ll go out with him?”

Wait. What.

“Who?”

“I thought you said you were listening? Your Aunt called, she met this lovely lady at the temple this weekend. She has a son, only child, he’s an accountant and he plays guitar. You like guitar, remember? You wanted to learn– he can teach you! He’s very interested; he’s seen your picture and says he’s seen or met you before? Where did you meet him? Are you dating? You should be dating! There are so many potentials!”

“Are we back on this again? I told you, I’m not interested. I’m not dating anyone. And what picture? I didn’t give her any pictures.”

“She found one from your Facebook page, by the way, you need some new pictures. Some with other people, wear something flattering and no more gym photos, you have to show variety.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Honey, listen, just add him on Facebook. His name is Jackson.”

 

 

Love used to live here.

02 Saturday Jul 2016

Posted by thephilotherapist in fiction, Relationships, short story, Uncategorized

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Tags

fiction, nonfiction, prose, short story, story

The heart remembers what the mind tries to forget.

Her usual route was blocked so she used Siri to navigate the next quickest route. Within minutes she was travelling down a road all too familiar.She came to a crossroad and intuitively turned left, despite Siri’s instructions to “continue straight.” She drove past a park while Siri “recalculated” and there it was.

“Of course, “she thought.

She looked to her left and saw the apartment. Their old apartment.

She was tempted to allow the flood of memories to consume her, but she had gotten better at turning those feelings off. She clenched her teeth, shook her head and continued on the recalculated path home.

The weight of the day had compromised her will power and the rest of her evening was plagued with the thoughts of the apartment and the memories within.

The day she moved in. The day she moved out. Memories she thought she had forgotten, all came rushing back as if she was experiencing them for the first time.

“Love used to live there.” She thought to herself as she crawled into her bed. “But love left long before I did.”

She turned off her lamp and nodded off to bed.She didn’t hold herself responsible for the breakdown of that relationship anymore. She may not have forgotten, but she had forgiven.

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