Untitled, For Now
I’ve been thinking and feeling a lot lately. I want to write down everything in my mind, but my thoughts run continuously around my head the same way I seem to aimlessly go through my current career path. I want to articulate every single emotion I feel, but they are as complicated as my beloved country’s (and also, the world’s) current weather conditions.
Right now, my fingers type what my conscious tells it to. I hear a neighbor shout something unintelligible then his dog bark, and it irks me a bit. I feel my boyfriend shift in bed then his heavy breath, and I smile contentedly to myself. I listen to the soft patter of rain outside then thought of the super typhoon and my family in another city. I remember an upcoming event I am so looking forward to attending, and I get excited. I briefly consider the prospect of traveling (in the distant future) to a lovely destination and I feel happier. All these in the forefront, but at the back of my mind, it is an entirely different situation.
It’s an hour and a half past one, but I still can’t seem to force my eyes to close. Yesterday night, I was feeling anxious for reasons even I don’t know. It could be from lack of sleep, from emotional stress due to the typhoon, from the pressure of societal duties and responsibilities, or from unbelievably petty matters that have gotten into my nerves. Tonight, I am no better, albeit I am more calm.
I am not bothered, however, by my sense of aimlessness right now—in fact, I savor every moment of it. I have questioned my goals, purpose, and existence for so long, it’s time I give it a temporary rest. Why shouldn’t I smile without having to feel a bit guilty (because I know, somehow, I made someone unhappy)? Why shouldn’t I take on daily setbacks and failures with my bravest face and without the slightest feeling of shame? Why shouldn’t I say out loud that I don’t care because I really am uninterested, without the fear of being shunned?
Lately, I’ve been living each day with no other purpose but to be alive and thankful. I go to bed the latest I can and wake up early to get ready for work. I eat my breakfast for lunch or my lunch for breakfast (and sometimes I eat none). I put on my favorite pair of shoes, smile, feel confident, and walk tall. I put more creamer than coffee in all my cups and never fail to appreciate its creamy goodness (never mind the extra fat). Doing all these feels liberating.
I know it’s my conscious telling me to live with, think, and feel all these. In the back of my mind, there will be that tiny guilt, that slight shame, and that lingering fear—but I don’t care. Yes, it’s confusing, so I’ll leave it untitled, for now.
Deux ans d’amour et béatitude
(Don’t worry, this post is clearly not written in French because I only know very little non-school French. Haha.)
A few hours from now, it will exactly be two years since we got together. To be frank about it, I never expected the relationship would last. We were off to a rocky start, and you weren’t exactly my type—you never said nor did the things I was looking for in a partner, but you were honest and unpretentious, and it drew me to you. Yes, you challenged and charmed me at the same time. Two years later, after countless fights and makeups, we are still together and the cycle of challenge and charm continues.
2007 was the experimental year for us. We were, like any other couple, still struggling to mesh our lives together. We were, unlike some couples, able to blend beautifully after just a few months. It felt like we’ve known each other forever, and it was the most comforting feeling in the world. We had our fair share of fights and struggles, but we remained together.
A few hours after dawn, we’ll be together in a place we both love—the beach. Hopefully, we’ll be greeted by the beaming sun, and not the weeping rain. Just the thought of sharing something we both love and making memories that last, makes me want to hold your hand and watch you smile.
2008 was the year we affirmed our love for beautiful beaches, magnificent mountains, burp-worthy dinners, regrettable/memorable night outs, and emptied pockets (there were times when we barely got through the week for not having any money to burn). We had a handful of near break-up fights, even before we celebrated our first year together, but we survived all of it.
A couple of hours from now, I’ll be seeing you after I have packed hurriedly, and probably tell you how Chiquito ran after me because he knew we would be leaving him for quite a while. I would be telling you how excited I am for this beach trip, and I would probably be gushing like a 10-year old, but you wouldn’t mind, and you would just smile and hold my hand, and I would feel even happier, and sigh contentedly.
2009 is not yet over and we are enjoying it together. Though we’ve already had major fights a huge chunk of the half year, I know we’ll share a lot more happier years together. Let’s make more lasting memories.
I love you, hon. Happy 2nd year together. 
This Could Be Quarter Life Crisis
I’ve been wandering aimlessly for quite some time now. Drifting from place to place, clique to clique, job to job, dream to dream. If you ask me now what I would like to be someday, I can give you an answer right away. But ask me how I see myself in a few years’ time, I would have a hard time, possibly a long time, before I give you a lousy answer.
I am half-optimist, half-pessimist: I look into the future with both fear and excitement. Right now, however, I’m having a hard time looking at the future with a positive outlook. Everything seems vague, bleak, undefinable, unattainable. About a month ago, I took an exam in Cebu that could change my career path. To tell you honestly, I felt unprepared. I was pre-occupied with the primary reason we went there: my boyfriend’s birthday. I remember I was more excited to check out the club near the place we were staying at than wake up early for my exam the following morning. Of course, I didn’t party but I still slept late. I reached the examination place early (it was 10 minutes away), but had to go back because I left my IDs and pencils. Talk about knowing my priorities.
More than a week ago, I celebrated my 24th birthday by partying with friends and burning money on alcohol. I could have done much more with the money I’ve spent on damn expensive bar drinks, but I can’t really complain for the happy memories I’ve shared with my friends. Of course, there’s nothing really wrong with having crazy fun, but at 24, I am a bit exhausted. At this age, I should have set my priorities straight, followed-through on my life-long plans, and work on becoming a better person—not just for myself, but for the people around me as well. I know I’ve been saying this for quite some time now, to the point that I’m repeating myself, but I have yet to really work on it.
Last Sunday, I was about to sleep after a long night of hanging out with some friends, when I couldn’t resist asking my boyfriend, who was more than ready to sleep, a very simple yet powerful question: do you love me? Of course I know the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it. Something quite unexplainable just tugs at my heart every time I hear him say those magic words with utmost honesty. That night, however, I asked him because I was bothered by the end of a lovely relationship his best friend had with a girl we had grown to treasure. Apparently, his best friend has grown tired of this girl and dumped her for another girl just like that. What’s worse, he’s been seeing the other girl before he even broke up with her. Some people never learn to be content, look at the bigger picture, and make things work while hoping to be better. It scared me for a while to realize that it could happen to us too,with all the fights we’ve had concerning (rather bland and insipid) third parties. Pessimistic yes, and after two years, it still scares me.
But it’s not just about love and relationships. At 24 and less than a quarter of my life plans realized, I have every reason to be pessimistic. When I entered adulthood, I thought things would be so much simpler: I’d be earning my own money and spending it as I please, my parents would stop constantly watching my back, and I’d be able to do things the way I want to. I like who I am right now, but I can’t deny that I feel a growing disappointment take over my (half) optimism. I’m tired of waiting for things to happen, but I don’t want to rush because I don’t know where I’m going next. I’m more than ready to give up the luxuries afforded the youth, but I can’t seem to start fully taking responsibility for my actions. I still somehow feel lost, more than I would like to acknowledge.
This could be quarter life crisis. I just hope it’s only as fleeting as my pre-breakfast mood.
