I haven’t written anything substantial in a while.
This sentence has been an opening for one of my entries here. I forgot if I put it up for private or if I ever did put it up for viewing. All I know is that I know I wrote those words before. As for the time when I wrote them, it begins to go vague.
Looking back to my past entries, I can’t quite grasp how I had enough of myself to give during the times I wrote them. For one, during my most discerningly cheesy entries, I was being held by the neck by stress brought by academic work. That was well over a year ago. Furthermore, aside by being stressed by academic endeavors, I was being emotionally suffocated by some people I care not to mention anymore. Being that as it may, how did I squeeze enough emotion when clearly, I have already been exhausted beyond my limits?
I wrote plenty about love. Who else hasn’t written for that feeling – that young rush of emotion, of longing and impossible extents of passion? And who else haven’t been trampled by the pain it brings when the dream you had didn’t really turn out as well as you had hoped? Someway, somehow, somewhere, there has to be one person who thought that their first love would be their last. And I can continue to talk about this shit if you want me to but heck, we’re wasting brain cells on this. We’ve been through enough of this to know that yeah, maybe there are those people who found who they were looking for but as for us, we’re still at a lost.
I’m exhausted. I’ve been talking about this shit endlessly. I’ve run out of words to describe it. It’s the tale we all know is as old as time.
Now we look at the three characters we know so well: Bryan, Diana and Amanda.
Once upon a time, there was a guy named Bryan. Bryan’s this guy who has the eyes you always dreamed of and the height you always desired. He’s great with people and he’s loved by some. And this guy, like all the normal guys who have good credentials when facing the adults, has his very own girlfriend.
And we know her as Diana.
He must’ve rescued her from a tower from a land far, far away. Or perhaps he battled the Lord of Darkness and carried her away towards the sunset with his armored white steed. Or perhaps he’s this typical guy with a celphone who texted her all night long. Eitherways, he got her to be his girl.
And yeah, they’re perfect. Everyone’s envious. You know the feeling you get when there’s a happy couple moving around – you ain’t exactly THAT happy for them. And as a bonus point for your ego, you have to suck it up and smile at them. You lavish them with affection because they’re happy and you can’t exactly do nil to break that up.
And maybe they would’ve lived happily ever after.
But before going to last colored page of their fairytale, right after the king gave Diana to Bryan and just before Diana got on Trevor (Bryan’s white armored steed), we see this girl who has, for so long, been kept out of the limelight.
You meet Amanda.
Amanda has hopes and dreams. She’s a good student. She’s the Mary Sue of all Mary Sues. She’s the one exception to every rule. By thunder, she’s the ultimate Deus Ex Machina if you ever saw one. She’s not the Amanda from “Someone Nobody Noticed”, not by a hick. She’s this other Amanda but just as equally perfect as the first.
What’s she doing in the ever after seen of Bryan and Diana?
She’s the other woman; the future home wrecker of Diana’s household, the future paycheck muncher of Bryan. And the one who must and will always be the secret of every other men of this planet. She’s their most guarded secret. She’s the trophy of every underlying bet.
She’s the other woman.
But you’ll never really know how it feels to be the other woman. Their reasons will always remain a mystery. And maybe that’s what keeps the men going for their charms – the enigma and the thrill behind the labyrinth of unsaid emotions. It must be fascinating; truly and irrevocably fascinating that the want of an Amanda becomes all the more overwhelming.
To be the other woman. To be the butt of every femme fatale line. To be able to relate with every curse phrase with bitch in it. To be the Amanda to a man who has a Diana.
And you thought this was a tale as old as time.
Be still, my heart, I’m hardly breathing.
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