Nothing in this universe happens just once. Infinity goes in both directions. There is no unique event, no singular moment. It means you will get another chance.

Whatever happened to chivalry? Does it only exist in 80’s movies? I want John Cusack holding a boombox outside my window. I wanna ride off on a lawnmower with Patrick Dempsey. I want Jake from Sixteen Candles waiting outside the church for me. I want Judd Nelson thrusting his fist into the air because he knows he got me. Just once I want my life to be like an 80’s movie, preferably one with a really awesome musical number for no apparent reason. But no, no, John Hughes did not direct my life.

Glee Cast – The Only Exception (Paramore Cover)
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/Glee Cast – The Only Exception.mp3]

I’ve got a tight grip on reality
But I can’t let go of what’s in front of me here
I know you’re leaving in the morning when you wake up
Leave me with some kind of proof it’s not a dream

One of my favorite songs covered by one of my favorite TV shows ♥

For everything you have missed, you have gained something else. And for everything you gain, you lose something else.

(image via plastic-sfoonss)

Sometimes when you look back on a situation, you realize it wasn’t all you thought it was. Someone walked into your life, you fell in love, or did you? Maybe it was only a childish infatuation, or maybe it was a brief moment of insanity.

The BFF told me about Il Postino’s new girlfriend today, and I felt nothing. It’s funny how I always used to find myself running back to him, for some reason, thinking it would work out differently the second third fourth fifth time. And now, I can’t think of a single reason why I’d ever want him back.

Prints of this illustration I designed are now available in my Etsy shop for $10! They are 11″ x 17″ and professionally printed by digital press on 100 lb. paper gloss.

Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to admit openly. Some are afraid to show even the slightest sign of affection because of fear. Fear that their feelings may not be recognized, or even worst, returned. But one thing about human beings puzzles me the most is their conscious effort to be connected with the object of their affection even if it kills them slowly within.

Neon Trees – Sins of My Youth

Call me crazy, I was born to make a mess
Would you love me still if I were to confess
That I had a little too much fun back when I was young
I’ve got these habits that I cannot break
And as I’m older there is more at stake
Go ahead and call me fake, but these are the sins
The sins of my youth

I’ve got wallowing down to a science… I spent the better half of 2006 perfecting it, after all. I’m not gonna lie, my usual method of getting over someone is by getting under someone else. But I’m realizing that happiness is an inside job. I can’t sit here waiting for another guy to come along to stop wallowing about the last one. One day, you just have to decide not to be sad anymore. And that day was today. Well, actually it was Friday, but killing a few bottles of wine with Anthony foiled that plan. And then I decided it was yesterday. But while getting drinks with friends, one of the employees came up to our table and asked if any of us were he who shall not be named, because he who shall not be named had a phone call. Coincidence or cruel joke? As I walked out wondering if it was a sign, I looked up to the sky, dramatically shook my fist at the heavens, and almost got hit by a car. And so I decided that today would be the day (again). It’s barely noon, but I’m feeling optimistic. I mean, I’m going to Phil’s for lunch… If a beefy rib tickler isn’t guaranteed happiness, I don’t know what is.

Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, but rather accepting that there are things that cannot be.

It’s a lot easier to be lost than found. It’s the reason we’re always searching and rarely discovered—so many locks, not enough keys.

Since the first day you reached out to me, I kept searching for hints of the relationship you kept from me. I couldn’t see it in the description of your morning routine or your weekend recaps, but I could feel it in your absent admission to the contrary. I planned to keep quiet and let this fade out, as I do with everything else I feel isn’t worth fighting for. But this was you. And to me, you have always been worth it. So I finally got up the nerve to say,

Are you seeing anyone?

I knew the answer before I even asked the question. I should have asked you this in the beginning, but I convinced myself that you wouldn’t hide something like that from me. Except you did. And while you justified it by not doing anything more than correspond back and forth, the line was already crossed when you first contacted me, and you’ve been on the other side of it ever since.

At least I know that you didn’t just dismiss me as some reckless fling you had when we were younger. I can’t be mad at you for wanting to talk to me, but what was the point of this, other than resurrecting all these memories I haven’t thought about in years? It’s like you just came back to remind me that you still can’t do this. Even if you didn’t know what you were looking to get out of this in the beginning, you made the choice not to tell me about her for months. What did you want from me?

You and I will always have some unfinished business, but eventually, it’ll be as it was. You’ll forget about me. I’ll forget about you.

You’ve been out of my life for years, but somehow your absence is more tangible now than it ever was. How can I miss something I never had?

Well, I’d say I’ve successfully fulfilled my nostalgia quota for the week year.

This trip down memory lane ended at my old friend/ex-love’s 30th birthday party last night. It’s strange to see someone you’ve spent so much of your life with and feel nothing… And to think of someone else you didn’t spend nearly enough time with and feel everything.

She wanted something else, something different, something more. Passion and romance, perhaps. Or maybe a quiet, heartfelt conversation into the wee hours of the night. Or perhaps something as simple as not being second.

(image via thewordsalloverme)

We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven’t even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.

(image via the beholder)

Don’t say a word, just come over and lie here with me
‘Cause I’m just about to set fire to everything I see
I want you so bad I’ll go back on the things I believe
There I just said it, I’m scared you’ll forget about me

Yesterday, there was an unexpected venti iced sugar-free vanilla soy latte waiting for me at my desk when I got to work in the morning. Christine treated me out to pizza and beer at Pizza Port for dinner. And then I ended the night at an amazing $10 Temper Trap show with my girls.

Today was nothing like yesterday.

(image via thresca)

(image via luftschloss)

If a guy is treating you like he doesn’t give a shit, he genuinely doesn’t give a shit. No exceptions.

Oh, oh, I want some more
Oh, oh, what are you waiting for?
Take a bite of my heart tonight

He’ll never learn, cabrona. But then again, neither will you…

(image via sberon)

SpongeBob: What do you usually do when I’m gone?
Patrick: Wait for you to come back.

(image via sanahasflickr.)

For some people, love doesn’t exist unless you acknowledge it in front of other people.

Another 3am text message from Il Postino this weekend. It’s always back and forth with us. He drunk messages me one weekend. I do it the next. He does it again, but this time he’s just trying to be funny—”trying” being the operative word here. I know he’s mocking my drunken text from the weekend before, so I tell him he’s lucky I’m awake at that unholy hour. And then I remember that I purposely ignored his messages on Valentine’s Day, so he thinks things are okay between us now that I’ve broken my silence. Every time I get off this carousel, I just get back on again, spinning around and around knowing this ride always makes me sick.

I was really dreading this past weekend, but it actually wasn’t half bad 🙂 On Friday, Shi, Ella, Sha and I did what any other masochistic group of single girls would do on Valentine’s Day weekend—we watched Dear John (aka Sobfest 2010). Christine gave it half a thumb, but I actually liked it! I cried throughout the entire movie. It definitely didn’t touch The Notebook, but I’d recommend at least renting it when it’s released (if only to see Channing Tatum running around half naked).

I drowned my sorrows at The Local with the girls and Antonio Saturday night. Fifty dollars, six cranberry vodkas, two slices of New York pizza, and one drunken text to the ex later (yikes), I called it a night at four in the morning.

I woke up on Sunday with a hangover and a text back from Il Postino. I didn’t get back to him—he drunk messaged me three times the weekend before, so I thought I didn’t have to explain myself. The girls all texted me to make sure that I wasn’t going to throw myself off a bridge before spending the day with their significant others, and I even got a V-Day greeting from the Cake Boss (which I also ignored). Shi invited me to brunch, but I felt too sick to eat anything at that ungodly hour. I spent the majority of my day designing Chel’s wedding invitation while watching Lifetime’s Lovers Lane Movie Marathon (don’t judge me). Sitting through all 120 minutes of Flirting with Forty was worth discovering Robert Buckley. Hot damn. I don’t usually like blondes, but I’ll make an exception for this one.

Il Postino texted me after midnight—and after he had gotten home from his Valentine’s date, I’m sure—saying thanks for (not) returning the drunken text and he hoped I had a great Valentine’s Day. Number one… how dare you? And number two… don’t call me past 11pm. It was late, and I didn’t think it was a good idea to respond, so I didn’t. I like how we only talk to each other when we’re intoxicated and/or at an indecent hour. Don’t make me that girl that you only call after midnight—especially not on Valentine’s Day. And especially not when I used to be that girl you’d take roller skating on a random Tuesday before the street lights came on.

I would just like to be involved with someone who values me enough to call me at a respectable hour… someone who would maybe take me to Birch Aquarium to look at moon jellies, grab some dinner afterwards (nothing fancy), and maybe share a Churros Con Chocolate cupcake from Cups. Or even a churro from Costco would be fine by me. You know, I don’t ask for much (and I also don’t get much, either… go figure).

On Monday, Chel, Shi and I had a three hour sesh at Tap Ex. We always find time for each other. These girls are my heart. They make me realize that I’m better off without these jerkoffs I keep involving myself with. And they completely understand when I blow them off to watch meteor showers with the same jerkoffs ♥

In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass. That’s the kind of person that’s worth sticking with.

(image via someecards)

And it wears me out
It wears me out

(image via vivatregina)

Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be complete without torturing yourself with bad romance movies.

I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.

I know I have you guys, but—and really, I hate myself a little for saying this—but it felt really sad not to have a man in my life who cares about me. No special guy to wish me happy birthday. No goddamn soul mate. And I don’t even know if I believe in soul mates.

Up until four years ago, I had a boyfriend to wish me happy birthday every year for nearly a decade. I’ve had dates, relationships and what have you over the past few years, but no amount of smizing, hair flips or threats could make them stick around for my birthday. Maybe it’s those crazy wish lists I come up with, I don’t know. I hate how I let this one thing I don’t have affect all the things I do have. I’m so lucky to have such great friends and relatives. I received over fifty birthday greetings via text, Facebook and phone. But the truth is, everything could be going great in my life and none of it would matter if I didn’t have anyone to share it with.

This year was no different. Il Postino knew it was my birthday. He knew. He asked his sister where she was taking me for dinner that morning. I wish she wouldn’t mention me at all around him. I’m almost certain that if we didn’t have her to keep us connected, we would’ve let each other go a long time ago. I never ask for anything. All I wanted was to be acknowledged. He couldn’t even bring himself to—at the very least—leave me a Facebook message wishing me a happy birthday in the most informal way he possibly could. His complete disregard for me stings more than the leopard print body pillow his mom gave me for Christmas.

But in spite of all that, I saw him again last night. I didn’t bring up my birthday. I didn’t bring up the fact that we haven’t spoken since the meteor shower. Disappointment is an emotion I’ve gotten used to wearing around him. He never apologizes for anything, with the exception of that one time last summer—and even that felt like it was court-ordered. I live for these sort of movie moments. That’s all I have with him. Just moments. It’s the reason why I never argue with him. Because no matter how bad it gets, I always come back. So why ruin the moment? When I see him, it’s understood that we revert to the way things used to be between us… when everything was beautiful and nothing hurt, if only for one night. Or maybe I’ve misunderstood all along. Maybe these moments have been meaningless from the start.

I’ve realized that nothing will ever make him sure of me—not the fact that his family adores me, not the familiarity of my lips or the way my hand always fits perfectly in his, not the SpongeBob DVDs I gave him for Christmas that he didn’t bother to acknowledge just like my birthday, and especially not the fact that for reasons I can’t explain, I’ve always been so sure of him.

We all fall for them. Pricks are spontaneous, unpredictable and fun—and then we’re surprised when they turn out to be pricks.

Man, I was thinking about unrequited love. I figure it’s best to just walk that shit off. Find someone else to be excited about. It’s like if you love ice cream but your ice cream man friend won’t give you any. Maybe he’s got a good reason. It cuts into profits. Who knows? But he likes you as a friend and wants to hang out anyway. It drives you crazy to hang out with that dude, even if he’s being reasonable from his point of view. So don’t hang out with him. What, you ONLY like ice cream? It’s ice cream or nothing? Don’t be an asshole. Learn to love donuts.

Things just keep going. We didn’t talk about anything heavy or light. We were just there together. And that was enough.

Il Postino and I dated on and off until he broke my heart last winter. He didn’t talk to me for eight months afterwards. He brought a new girl home for Thanksgiving. And the past two times he has contacted me, she just happened to be out of town.

But when I’m with him, I can’t seem to remember any of that.

He took me to see the meteor shower late last night. He picked me up at my apartment and we carried on as if those gaps between our visits didn’t exist. We got to the beach and were literally the only ones there. Maybe the weekend rain had scared everyone off. We lay the blanket on the sand under a patch of sky that wasn’t covered in clouds and waited… I was cozy in his jacket and gloves, with my head resting on his pillow. Michael Jackson songs played on his iPhone while we talked about the movies we had last seen—something we always used to do together. He told me I would like “Leap Year.” I overlooked that he had seen all of these movies with someone else. He said he would be satisfied if he saw twenty-six shooting stars and asked me how much I’d be happy with. I told him that I couldn’t think of a number, but I would just know when the time came. Being there with him was enough for me. I counted thirteen shooting stars and made a handful of wishes before we left. It started raining on the drive home. We both had work in the morning. I didn’t expect him to stay, but he stayed. I noticed that he always sleeps on the right side of the bed. He reached for my hand and closed his fingers over mine. I asked him if he was seeing anyone. He said that he wasn’t. That they were just friends. That they were never a couple. I wanted to believe him. We talked about why I was moving. We talked about his family. He said that his youngest sister has been mad at him since he moved out. I told him that she just misses him. I fell asleep to the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. He stayed with me till morning. And then he left.

If he wanted to be with me right now, he would be with me. I can’t keep putting my life on hold every time he decides to make a cameo. His appearances aren’t without expectations, and I find myself searching for hidden meanings behind his every word and action. I think he doesn’t want to lose me… but he doesn’t want to keep me, either.

Rihanna – “Stupid in Love”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/stupidinlove.mp3]

They’re telling me let go
He is not the one
I thought I saw your potential
Guess that’s what made me dumb

Cinematic Orchestra – To Build A Home
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/tobuildahome.mp3]

‘Cause I built a home for you, for me
Until it disappeared from me, from you

(image via weheartit)

(image via Le Love)

John Legend – “Everybody Knows”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/audio/everybodyknows.mp3]

And I hope one day you’ll see nobody has it easy
I still can’t believe you found somebody new
But I wish you the best… I guess

(image via lovebot)

Lykke Li – “Possibility”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/possibility.mp3]

So tell me when you hear my heart stop
You’re the only who knows
Tell me when you hear my silence
There’s a possibility I wouldn’t know

I regret the way pain has taught me nothing.

He told me I needed a car wash. My car was always filthy back when we were dating, and I knew he was going to say something when he saw it today. I smiled because I still knew him, but it made me sad that he hadn’t changed. Neither have I, apparently. He hugged me goodbye and held me longer than he should have. Then he left.

He sent me a message a couple weeks ago saying that “we should talk sometime.” I reasoned he was just thinking about me because it was Halloween. We spent Halloween together last year, and he had just seen his niece whose costume I had sewn. Maybe he was lonely that day. He always does this. He says “we should talk,” but I know that he won’t call. And I won’t call. He’s the one who left me. And I never chase. So where does that leave us?

(image via weheartit)

I realized today that I will never escape him. I met up with the BFF at her aunt’s house to go to dinner for her son’s birthday. I knew that Il Postino would be at work, so I wasn’t worried about running into him. But that’s all I seemed to do… without him even being there. With an extra kid in the BFF’s car, I ended up riding with Il Postino’s mom. His little sisters were supposed to be there, but they were running late as usual, so we had to go pick them up at the house. His old house. It was just me and his mom on the car ride there. She talked about him the whole time, saying how worried she was about him and that she didn’t know or trust his new friends. She said that she loved when he was dating me, because she trusted me and knew I was a good person. She apologized for going on and on (and on and on) about him. I mostly stayed quiet during the car ride. I hadn’t stepped foot in that house since I was with him almost a year ago. His grandpa told me that he missed my cupcakes. His sister was excited to show me her Halloween costume. We eventually made our way to the Spaghetti Factory for dinner. The BFF prefers the one in North County over the closer one downtown, so it was a long drive up. Time moved even slower with every mention of his name. I felt like I was in that car forever. During dinner, Il Postino’s sister said that he texted her that he was off work and waiting at their aunt’s house where we were going afterwards for birthday cake. I raised the second margarita I was on and told the BFF that I was going to need more of these if I was going to see him, half joking, but not really. When we got back to her aunt’s house, I saw his car parked outside and decided not to go up. As much as I love birthday cake, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with the awkward situation waiting for me upstairs in that tiny apartment. Not today anyway. I will always be friends with my BFF and Il Postino will always be her brother. I’ll have to figure out how to deal with that someday.

(image via ffffound)

How do I slow down?
I can’t relate to my heart now
I’ve thrown what I’ve known
Is enough of me out?
I’m running on empty
I’ve gotta find some way
To fumble right through this new heartache
It’s torn me apart
Oh, lovesick mistake
Turn me away

I went to see Erin McCarley at Soma last night with Chel and Shi. I think she is so amazingly talented and underrated. She reminds me of one of my favorite Stella Im Hultberg paintings, Until the Day—beautiful, but painfully sad.

Don’t repeat chapters; the ending of the story will never change.

I saw him last night. He felt like home and I let him in, forgetting that he had broken my heart last winter. I wonder how many times we’ll say goodbye before we actually let go.

(image via daily post-its)

Watch 500 Days of Summer… It’ll change your life, I swear.

Sara Bareilles – “Gravity”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/gravity.mp3]

Something always brings me back to you
It never takes too long
No matter what I say or do
I still feel you here ’til the moment I’m gone
You hold me without touch
You keep me without chains
I never wanted anything so much
Than to drown in your love and not feel your rain