#elitev

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ELITE V: Drinks

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ELITE V: Food

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ELITE V entries: by Selina Kyle The Stages

This story is not going to break anyone’s heart. 

This story is not what you think it is.

This story is just a story.

Have you ever heard about The Stages of Grief? If you haven’t, I’m going to tell you that there are some theories that use five, seven, and nine stages. Well, for me, five is too little and nine is too much. Nobody wants to move on that fast unless you’ve never loved your ex at all. And nobody wants to keep in the same old love for too long.

I know that losing is a devastating experience for someone to feel, although such feeling can be vanished with some help. Everybody agrees that moving on needs a certain period and that it might vary from one person to another. I, too, am still having a difficulty overcoming my own stages of grief.

I can still remember the time when I was so depressed. It took me about a year and half to finally understand that everything won’t come back for good.

Shock and Denial attacked me when the love melted away from his eyes. Just like what I heard from a movie, “The eyes, chico. They never lie.” Ah... if only I could meet that chico in real life, I would say, “That’s true, chico. His eyes said so.”

 Pain and Guilt embraced me when he walked away. I tried to run, but the more I chased, the more he moved. Holy moly, I knew he was such a runner, but I did not expect a movement like that.

Anger and Bargaining appeared when I heard a rumor about him seeing another girl. It knocked the shit out of me as I begged him to come back. How can this happen to us? Why us? It’s not fair. We were in love. <i>Please listen to me</i>

I was helpless and I had no idea that he would move on that fast. Was he faking all those romance with me? That was quite a show honestly.

 Of course, Depression, Reflection, and Loneliness came afterwards. I had a serious problem with sleeping for months. I visited the psychiatrist for a therapy, but the nightmare was still haunting me every night. I screamed, I wept, and I isolated myself. My lonely heart could not stop mourning even if my close friends and my parents were there. I questioned many things about fate. Alas, the answers were vague as always.

I, then, realized that I had turned myself into a monster. I was the one who let depression consume the half of me. I was the one who let the devil whisper a suicidal thought. I was fighting with myself. Eventually, the upward turn happened when I was a little calmer and organized. I slightly began to lift my chin and smile. People told me that I have been missed. I sincerely thanked them and cried. As I become more functional, my mind started working again. I started to reconstruct and and work through everything by looking at realistic solutions. At this point, I should have arrived at the last stage of grief. However, was I really moving on?

I met a guy out of my desperation, but I can assure you that it was not a bad call at all. His name was Meijer and I met him through an online dating site. Yes, I threw myself into an online dating site because everybody has their own way to fill the void inside. Besides, that guy listened to the same music as I did. He got a pair of doe eyes in a color of dark walnut. Strong cheekbones and a blade of nose were also perfectly engraved by the Almighty. And most importantly, he talked to me with that fruity voice.

My friends approved his presence in my life. They said that he is going to be good for me and that we looked good together. He was perfect, flawless, or so they said.

By the time we were together, he never failed me. He was still talking with the same excitement as if we met for the first time. He told me that he was on cloud nine after we had our first kiss. He showed me the love that I was wishing for. Meijer was the best guy I’ve ever met, and I am thankful for that. It was like God granted one of my wishes. Then again, was I really moving on?

 I knew Meijer was in love with me. I knew he put so much effort to cheer me up. I also knew that he worried much about my depression although I’ve never told him the real reason until now. Yet, I believe that loving a broken girl is difficult. That’s why I told Meijer that we should stop seeing each other after a lot of considerations. I was indeed being rude and selfish. Well, even keeping him beside me would not make any difference because I thought… I thought I have already accepted the previous lost and the hope to start a new chapter with him. I thought I made it to the very last stage.

Frankly my dear, I did not fake my happiness when I called his name—his name, his name, and only his name. I told Meijer many times that I truly love his name. And when he asked me why, I said the name was unique. Little did he know that I was thinking of another Meijer while calling him.

I would be lying if I said that Meijer's name was not the reason why I approached him in the first place. It was all because of my stupid assumption that I would find another Meijer in him. In fact, such assumption had me trapped in an unclear stage. I was faking it until I made it. I was lying to everyone as I deceived my mind.

I should admit that I still think of another Meijer in him. I was secretly hoping of a smile like home whenever Meijer turned his face after I called him. He smiled, but that was not the smile of my Meijer. Oh, my Lord, his smile was perfect, so flawless. But I am not impressed. I want the other Meijer back.

 Now that I have ended my relationship with both Meijers, I'm aware that I have not yet arrived in the final stage. But I swear that I'm still moving on. For me, moving on does not mean completely forgetting. I'm not defending myself here. Sometimes, I smile whenever the name of Meijer is mentioned. I mean, there are a lot of people who have Meijer as their name as well. I also gaze at his picture whenever it accidentally appeares out of nowhere, and I’ve always enjoyed the view.

 I realized that I could never erase everything completely. But I live my life, you know. My earth is still spinning on its own axis. I still wake up in the morning, improve myself and my personality, socialize with my friends, be active in any activity, until I go back to sleep and do the same routine in the next day. See? I am literally moving, right?

Indeed, my decision to find a replacement for another Meijer was wrong. Instead of accepting the new affection, I was just spinning around in one stage. Both Meijers were playing the biggest part in my life. But I cannot control another guy to keep me living in utopia and manipulate everyone around me. I must find my own happiness without sacrificing another existing Meijer. That way, I will not only complete my stages of grief, but also love myself more. It is all in my hand.

The stages of grief seem impossible to do. Once you go for the wrong step, you can hurt anyone’s feeling or even yourself. But life is all about trials and tribulations and going back to scratch is not an embarrassing thing to admit. Last but not the least, if anyone asks whether I am still moving on or not? The answer is yes, I still am.

 I just happened to accept reality.

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ELITE V entries: by Eos Sun free the wo[man]

free the wo[man]

i dance from [cage] to [cage] hidden behind bars of marks and scars

every spin          an             act          of faith and so i sway and pray

to expand to explore to escape

the space i filled, i fill, will fill with men

oh, world let me be f  r  e   e from this [cage) for i need to be lead to my destiny

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ELITE V entries: by Aev Venallen You Are The One 

Summary: An alternate universe where the first words of your soulmate is tattooed on any part of your body.

Everyone on Earth has a soulmate. You’ll know your soulmate by the tattoo that appeared on your skin of your wrist minutes after you were born. The tattoo will forever remind you of the first words your soulmate will say to you.

It was common knowledge that everyone had a soulmate. A soulmate was someone who was supposed to be the perfect fit for you, the person that made you a complete being. It could take days, months, or even years sometimes, but soulmates were always bound to meet. Unless, of course, their soulmate has passed away.

There were also cases where people were born without the scripts on their skin. One couldn’t even imagine the pain of not having a significant other. It’s like being certain that they would be facing the future alone, without their partners in life. People from all walks of life were putting themselves out there, bullshitting their way through life, waiting to hear the words embedded on their skin since birth. Waiting for hope and happiness.

 And then there’s her.

 Of course she’s happy that there’s even something scribbled on her wrist, and that she’s not like other people who are struggling to live by without a soulmate. She’s quite normal, except for the unusual writings on her skin.

The words tattooed on her skin was not a general hi or hello like some of her friends have or the popular ones like “What can I get you?” which she was thankful for. However, she’s also not as lucky as other people who had clues like their soulmates’ names on their wrists. She was, however, not sure if she’s even considered lucky at this point.

For the past ten years, she was on a lookout for two unfamiliar names. She had tried searching them in newspapers, books, and even journals but to no avail. She had never, even once, heard someone even mention those names. One thing she knew for sure was that her soulmate would see someone die in front of them in the future, and she is powerless to stop it.

If it’s etched on her skin like this, she was sure that whoever Snape was would kill Dumbledore.

Since then, she would wear something to keep the words off people’s eyes. A wrist watch, a thick bracelet, even long sleeved shirts. She wouldn’t want to alarm people and have them panic over what was bound to happen. She was worried about the person but she didn’t even know when it would happen.

And then, two years later, J.K. Rowling published the first book of her series called Harry Potter. Everyone was ecstatic reading the magical series. Her friends spent their time pouring over the books and watching the movie series. She saw each of her classmates bringing their own copies to school, pointing out their favorite parts, reading and re-reading them for book reviews, and even making fan fictions over the characters.

 She was thrilled to spend time to read the books, her parents having bought the books for her birthday. However, the first time she read the book, she was devastated and furious, especially having to stumble upon the two names she had been looking for her entire life.

 She had been worrying about this man called Dumbledore, not knowing who he is and whatever he did to be killed by someone named Snape. And then she would find out that Dumbledore would die in the hands of Snape when she hadn’t even finished reading the whole series. She tried not to scream her displeasure out, the pieces falling in her head as she tried to scrub the words on her skin off. The “I can’t believe Snape killed Dumbledore” still etched on her red skin no matter how she much she washed her hands raw.

Time passed and her agitation over being spoiled on the series grew with every release of the next Harry Potter book and movie. She was even stuck to wearing anything to cover the marks as to not agitate any Harry Potter fan and behead her for spoiling them.

Time came when her best friend wanted to watch Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and begged her to come watch it with her. Usually she would opt out of watching the movie, even taking as far as avoiding to read the series because of the damned sentence on her wrist. But to bloody hell with everything.

Having to watch the movie knowing that Dumbledore would die any time now was one of the most annoying things she had to endure her whole childhood life. Imagine having the entire franchise being ruined years before the author probably even thought of killing the character.

They were filing out of the theater after letting the other people go, her best friend giving her a play-by-play of what happened in the movie considering that she was there beside her watching as well. She gave her friend a smile and well-placed hums to let her know she was listening. That’s when she heard a guy with his friend walk right by them, “I can’t believe Snape killed Dumbledore.”

 She whipped her head back, almost giving herself a whiplash. She couldn’t believe that she would finally meet the douchebag who have ruined a would-have-been-perfect childhood for her. In her rage and annoyance, she stopped walking, ignoring the grumbles and complaints from the other people, and pointed at the guy, startling him and the other people in the process. “You! You’re the one!”

 The guy blinked in surprise before looking at his own arm to read the words on his skin, then looked back at her. He ignored the “Do you even know this girl?” questions from his buddy. He smiled sheepishly, “Whenever I read the tattoo on my wrist, I thought I’d hear it in a romantic light. I didn’t expect this plot twist.”

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