When the world suddenly stopped turning and all you can hear is your heartbeat, you lose all sense of self-control. You say the things you did not imagine would come out of your mouth. Your eyes focus on one thing (or person) and the rest blurs in the background. You bite your tongue while in the process of composing a sentence worthy enough to be heard. Overrated butterflies in your stomach flutter their wings endlessly. You feel your knees wobble. You find that there is no balance in this world as you see yourself falling. HARD.
I wish I could be on top of a mountain, enjoying a scenic view. Or floating in a vast sea somewhere. All I want to hear right now is either the swaying of the leaves in a hundred trees or the dancing waves in the ocean. I am tired of hearing my conscience. Yes, hearing. Not listening to. Once again, I became impulsive. The zombies ate my brain. Hence; my brain is no longer functioning. I act foolishly. I defied them.
Still, thank you. To Aphrodite who messed up my serious plan of straightening out my fucked up life, I summon Dionysus' wine and raise my glass to Olympus.
I can think of a million different ways to start my story, a million different words and comparisons to express the gravity of the situation, but only one way to end it.
***
I told my good friend that July was the month of lies for us. It was a serious joke: Did you lie? D'you lie? July? The answer was always YES. July was a month of uncovering the truths behind the series of hurtful lies, unmasking the different faces of deceit and pretensions, revealing the hidden secrets that crushed not only one person, but three. Two victims and a suspect as other may perceive it. But I see it differently, three victims, and the whole universe to blame. We were all victims in the torments and chaos that the universe constrained us in.
***
I told myself before that once it happens, I will be well-prepared, that would be the last straw and the last reason for me to let go. And then it happened. I crossed the river when I got there. It was a complete 360 degree turn, all that was lost came back. All the love that I did not feel for almost a year, I felt it again. All the expectations I had were lost, it was all replaced by one major thing: I wish for you to love me again. The patience, kindness, and martyrdom I never thought I had all came out and molded me into this. It was never okay, but I was very optimistic, I managed to find the positive light always. All because I love you. I love us.
***
Is it too much pain that made me go numb? Or too much love that made me too forgiving? I am unsure. What I know is I am always wanting to be at home, with you and our kid. I always want to trace the outlines of your skin, feel the warmth of your lips, and brush my fingers through your hair. (They said if you're not willing to sound corny, you're not prepared to fall in love so there.. I sound so cheesy). I want more time with you always, to show you how much I've changed since. And I want to know what you want, in return.
***
I am being selfless. What we have now seems like a one-sided love affair. You don't reciprocate my endearment, you don't verbalize what you feel unlike me. If I were to rely on your actions, I will be completely assuming. Our friend asked me what I thought about your decision. I said it's either he's nowhere to run and has no other choice OR he's trying to fix us just like what I'm doing. I do prefer the latter, but I can't help but think that the first one is dominant. Although there is a certain warmth in your eyes that I see these days, that I am re-discovering the lost you from the way you yearn for me, I am still setting my expectations to a level that I know would not fail me too much. Setting expectations is what ruined me, us, and I wouldn't want that again. For now, I am content with the fact that you stayed, whole-heartedly or not. You stayed for all the right reasons, but I'm not sure if you're truly happy. Still, I am counting on your words: LET'S MAKE IT WORK. Yes. Let's do that.
***
Nawawalan na ng sense 'tong post ko. Ang iniisip ko 'pag nagsulat ako about this, touching and heartfelt ang kalalabasan. But due to the nuisance behind me, I find it impossible to create a less nauseating entry. Siguro, sa susunod na. When the world calms down and my stomach is at peace. Haay.
***
Don't ask how I am, you already know. I'm doing great. I'M AWESOME. Btw, the end that I was talking about in the first paragraph is this - Legen --- wait for it --- dary. Yes, I still have HIMYM hangover. I need an intervention, seriously. Can't wait for Season 6 to be aired in September...
I held his hand while he was hearing the news from his wife who is a thousand miles away from him. I told him to let it flow, tears aren't meant to hold back. It was a beautiful scene. A father to be. A proud father to be.
I let go of his hand after the conversation. I am happy for him but I couldn't help but feel nostalgic.
***
The scene took me back to April of 2007. I can still see the wide smile that flashed across his face as soon as the radiologist told us the gender of our baby.
A boy. A healthy baby boy.
I started wondering how come my life became as imperfect as it is right now. Three years ago, our family's income could barely keep us alive but, I was happy. Right now, I'm stuck with more financial problems and on top of that, my relationship with him is gradually falling apart.
The answer came to me easily. My life is as imperfect as it is because I willed it to be.
Someday, I will be in a better position. I am certain that I will hurdle over this. These walls I built to guard me against total emotional wreck will go down, I will find somebody who will help me revamp myself. That somebody will help me reunite with the romantic side of me and I will no longer be afraid of rejections.
***
I tried picturing that "somebody" a million times in my head. For a totally obvious reason, I cannot see somebody else portraying that part but you.
I wish we could go back to how things were before. Back to the time when every bad thing fades in the background and our hearts and minds were focused on the positive things that keep us going.
I miss you. I miss the "old you", the one who wrote Itadakimasu on apost-it you placed on top of a meal you prepared.
***
Tonight I can write the saddest lines
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example,'The night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too. How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines. To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her. And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her. The night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance. My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her. My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees. We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her. My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before. Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms my sould is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer and these the last verses that I write for her.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade: Exit seraphim and Satan’s men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you’d return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
---
I was looking for a challenging declamation piece this morning when I came across this site which featured the piece above.
The month of June had been cruel to me. I went through a series of heartbreaks, two of which tested my sanity.
For the most recent heartbreak which I am hoping would be the last for this month or for this year (whatever), I dedicate the piece above. Soon, I would be creating an original entry for that but because my stomach is being very cooperative today (I love sarcasms), I would have to make do with Plath's work for now.
"I tried calling your number... It wasn't working?"
That was your last message to me. Exactly twelve hours after that, I found myself staring at my reflection in the mirror. My vision was clouded. Her voice was echoing inside my head. The need to feel giddy and dress up for the upcoming office party was gone. I could hear nothing else in the small room but the sound of my own little screams.
I completely forgot that my son was on the bed, staring at me innocently.
"What's wrong, Nanay? Why sad?"
"Nothing, baby... It was nothing..."
"Happy na!" Then he flashed his widest smile at me. I know that was supposed to take away even the slightest pain but to my surprise, it didn't. This was different. This never happened to me before.
Everything after that passed by in a flash. All I could remember was I was crying in the rain while sitting on a familiar spot at the fifth floor constantly calling out your name, hopelessly begging for you to hold me. Then I was crying in my station, re-reading all the messages you sent that I managed to save. I was also crying during my lunch break, while listening to the song "Hallelujah" by Rufus Wainwright (which my friend told me was a song played on your favorite series, House). I also cried hard when I spoke to a friend of ours, I told her that I couldn't bear looking at a lifeless you. It was a series of crying that lasted for a whole weekend. I know I didn't manage to smile genuinely even for a second.
I am completely aware that what we had is nothing compared with what you had with M and A. Maybe I'm just a little speck of dust in your life, I'm not sure. What hurts a lot is that's not how you made me feel. For more than two years, you were a consistent confidence-booster, friend, and a heartbreaker. I almost got tired of it but you kept coming back and I was stupid enough to always take you back. The relationship we shared was never strongly defined, we talked about it a million times but we kept going around in circles. In the end, we found that it's better to let things stay as it were, no beginnings and break-ups. It was always "How have you been? I missed you so much".
That's the sad part though. There is always that feeling of being held back. I always get to the point where I stand between the thin line of expecting you to stay or being open enough to the possibility of you leaving again anytime soon. Then when the latter happens, which was the usual case, I am always left wondering how long will it take for you to send me another message . This time, I'm certain that my last message will be left unanswered. "Thank you for making me feel appreciated, beautiful, and special. I love you XXX, goodbye."
I almost wished at one point that we were really "together". Because if we were, I know we could have broken up eons ago then it wouldn't hurt this bad. I wouldn't be wishing every night (or day) before I go to sleep that you'd come to me in my dreams. I wouldn't be going out with that loser to temporarily mask the pain. I wouldn't be going to your house for the first and last time, hesitantly looking your wife in the eye trying to find myself in her somehow. I wouldn't be staring at your picture every other minute in the office, remembering how wonderful it was that you were with me.
I also wouldn't be wondering how death works, if by now you were standing in line with the rest of the souls in the Fields of Asphodel, or merrily wandering in a beautiful world as in Lovely Bones, or playing with the angels as one of your friends mentioned. I can only wish that you are in a better place now, no more dreadful bosses, stressful commute, and all the things you dislike. No more travelling to "hell and back", no more of that.
I terribly, terribly miss you. Fighting back my tears is no longer needed, I think my tear glands malfunctioned yesterday. I am looking forward to the day that I will ask how have you been again.
This time, I never failed to show her how much I care. I was seriously ready to get out of bed at 4am that morning to bring her to the hospital. I was so scared.
When we (my friends and I) talked about it in the office, I just said 'Ewan ko!" the moment I felt like crying, turned to face my computer, then shut up. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't face the fact that she wasn't there, laughing along with our jokes. I couldn't take the fact that she was laying on her bed, silently weeping, unable to speak and move the left part of her face. There was no one beside her the morning it happened. No one to comfort her. Nobody there to lie to her face that it was going to be okay.
I didn't lie to her that it was going to be okay. I know it wasn't going to be.
'And'yan si ___!" I rushed over to see her, but stopped on my track when I saw her face. I said hi then ran back to my station.
I cried for about five minutes. My shawl was helping me wipe the trace of tears from my face. I felt so broken.
I managed to stop when one of my friends told me that she shouldn't see me this way. She wouldn't want to see me crying. She is very strong, and she does not want to see anybody crying over her. She doesn't show us how hurt she is, and in return, she expects us to do the same.
I'm ready for it.
You're ready, but we're not. I love you like my own sister.
It's hard to face the inevitable. Someday, I hope it won't be too soon, I will weep a million more tears for her. And unlike what I've been telling my other friend whose grandfather's life is on the line, I am not getting myself ready. I can't find the strength to do so.
"She faces the wreck of worlds, and prophesies restoration. She faces a sky blood-red with sunset colours that deepen into darkness, and prophesies dawn. She faces death, and prophesies life."
I was so happy when I learned that I got $80.00 USD for being such a good agent.
WHY? Well, our account has this cool performance-based bonus which they named 'Go for Gold'. Top agents get $100, $80, or $40 depending on their CSAT Scores every month. Before, they (the management) gives the bonus every 15th of the month. Now, they give it every 3 months. Unfortunately, I never qualified from October to January because of my crappy absenteeism rate.
However; since my TL is so nice, I managed to hit the below 7% mark so I no longer am part of the 'IF ONLY' list for the months February and March.
I was literally jumping around the floor. I WAS SO HAPPY. It feels really good to know that I am well-rewarded. Although most agents got more than I got, one even reached the maximum which is $300 for 3 months, I am still very happy. I was feeling low since last week because my pay would not be sufficient for my family's monetary needs so this $80 really is a big help. In addition to that, I am qualified for an SSS loan so I no longer need to borrow money from a lending company that charges high interest rates. :)
I was telling my friend (well, more like shaking while telling) about this when she commented 'You'll realize later on that it's only $80 [compared to the other agent's bonuses]". I feel proud of myself for not sulking and responding with 'Oo nga 'no, you're right'. That's because I programmed myself not to complain and be contented with what I have. Comparing my bonus, or whatever I have for that matter, with anybody else's will only cause envy. Envy is evil. It gets you no where but to a world full of regrets and grudges. Those two words I am trying to erase from my vocabulary.
Honestly, I don't feel bad that I only got $80.00 USD. Scratch 'only', please.
I hope my friend did not think that I was pretentious in reacting like I did not care. Because frankly, I did not care that most agents got more than I got. Do not care. Will never care. What's important is, I'll get more than my usual pay on Friday.
What difference does it make how much there is laid away in a man's safe or in his barns, how many head of stock he grazes or how much capital he puts out at interest, if he is always after what is another's and only counts what he has yet to get, never what he has already. You ask what is the proper limit to a person's wealth? First, having what is essential, and second, having what is enough. - Seneca
I changed my layout. It's as messy as the stuff swirling around my head. When I'm already feeling less tired and sleepy as I am right now, I will post a decent entry. Err.. scratch 'decent' from the last sentence. :)
