Because I'm Fucking Bored

Random things from the mind of Gabby del Rosario.

It must be nice.

I ponder, and think of how it must be nice knowing what you’re thinking of right now.

Like what goes through your head when certain things happen, the funny things that make you laugh, the song stuck in your head, or even how you feel when you see me. But seriously, it must be nice knowing what you’re thinking of right now.

You see, I dont even know where to begin. So pardon me, for this very unorganized slur of words.

So, a lot has changed over the past few months of my university life. I’ve grown accustomed to many new things. Commuting to school, hour-long breaks before classes, different physical education classes, eating out everyday, living alone, hell, even working out. But none of these new things have affected me more than you.

Much has been said over the few months I’ve gotten to know you. Alright, I may have come off as a sailor-mouthed, goofy guy who makes everyone laugh. Hell, I’ve even been called a flirt, but I’m definitely more than that. I’m not just that guy who makes all of these jokes, and can easily talk to everyone about anything. I’m a guy who you can have a good casual conversation with, a guy you can rely on, a guy you can trust with anything and everything. I’m the guy you can hug whenever you feel down. The one you can hold hands with. The one who you can trust with your most intimate secrets. I wish you’d give me the chance to show you this side of me. Just you and I, hanging out. I wish.

And this is probably the reason why I want to know what’s going on through your mind right now. I wish that the next day, I’d be brave enough to go up to you and ask you to hang out. Grab something to eat. Or even just chill somewhere quiet where you and I can talk endlessly. But I’ve always been the kind of guy who’s too scared to do exactly that. That’s probably why I want to know what you’re thinking. So that I’d know how to talk to you, how to ask you out, how to react to your little gestures.

You may think that’s unfair, but it’s really been hard for me. Even just for a day. I’d like to be able to engage you in conversation that doesn’t have awkward silences, and me having to come up with something just to bring your voice back. I love hearing your voice. 

Don’t hesitate. I need to tell myself that. Always. That’s the only way I’ll make progress. The only way I’ll be able to get to you. 

Even the small things I do, hopefully, enough for you to know. I really really hope so.

Know that I always notice the small things: what makes you smile, what makes you laugh, and what makes you sad. Know that you’re on my mind always. Know that I do these things to make my presence known. Know. Just know.

Day 4 - Your Parents.

You start of as a sperm, swimming to the ever-coveted egg cell. When you get there, you are caressed by the sweet walls of the cell, and soon enough you become a fetus. You are growing inside a space slowly getting smaller and smaller and smaller. Nine months in, you feel yourself forcefully moved out of your small space. Then, you realize you can move your limbs. You can finally hear your own voice. But you notice something even more interesting. You feel a smooth cloth on your body. You feel yourself moving by some unknown force. You start to hear heavy breathing, and some sort of joyous sound. You then feel heat across your body. Someone’s crying right above you; tears of joy from the sound of it. Your mother is caressing you, and your father standing by her, tearing up at the sight of you. These are your parents, and you hear the first words from their mouths: “Hey there, baby. I love you!”. 

For 17 years, I have lived in a house full of people I have come to love very dearly. But the incredible duo that I love the most are my parents, R and G (Names are withheld until I get permission from them). I mean, it’s pretty obvious why I love them. For crying out loud, they’re my parents! They are the cause of me, and I couldn’t thank them enough for causing me. 

R, my dad, is the man I want to be when I’m a father myself. He appreciates all my achievements, and never fails to push me to greater heights in life. He gives me the freedom to create things for myself, whether it be my music, or my writing. He is the bearer of the greatest and corniest jokes in the world. He is always the one picking me up from late nights out. He holds conversation when needed. He listens all the time, even when I’m not making sense anymore. He drives me to be a great father in the future, and a great man right now. He is my role model. He’s one of my bestest friends. He is my dad. I can’t not love the guy. 

My mom, G is a woman I’ll always have a special place in my heart for. For nine months, she put up with nausea, stress, and my annoying playfulness when I was in her womb. For 17 years, she has been putting up with me. This is why I love my mother so much. She has always provided for me, whether it be money-wise or when I need advice. She never fails to set me straight when I go astray. My affinity for Music comes from her, and I cannot do anything but thank her for that. She’s always game for shopping and hanging out at malls. She always gives and gives and gives. She doesn’t expect anything back. She is supportive, and at the same time demanding. She always pushes me to do better in school, and in life. Although she thinks I’m up to something when I say this, I’ll say it anyway. I love you, mom! Forever and ever!

My parents are my driving force, and my reality check. I love my parents. They are the best people in the world. No one can say otherwise.