Dear J

Dear J,

I realized yesterday how much I've missed your company. I was going through our summer pictures and more than ever, I wish you were by my side to reminisce the good times we had.

And yes, more than ever, I need you now. I am about to make one of the biggest decisions in my life and I need you to back me up. This may be the most sane or the craziest decision I will ever make and I need you to give me a good whack in the head.

I am happy now J, happier than I ever was in a long time. But I know I will be happier if you were here. It kills me to walk in the streets and not smile at you or walk by your station without you giving me so much as a sideway glance.

I miss you J, I miss our laughter and our crazy schemes on how to get back at people who hurt us. I miss your sisterly reprimands whenever I cross the line. I miss your cold hand on my shoulder whenever I am down. I miss you asking me if your outfit is great or if you need to fix your belt. I miss our bikini shopping and shoe hoarding. I miss every moment we spent together, even that night we had to run across the streets from those kids who wanted to get into our pants.

I need you now J. I need you to share my happiness and help me make the right decision. I am a grown-up yes, but you know how crazy I get sometimes. And I just found out that I am still young. At 23, there still are things I cannot do without my parent's advice. And this is not something Mama will love to talk to me about. I need an Ate who will tell me straight that I am either losing my mind or plainly in love.

I know you know I will make the decision no matter what you say. That's how stubborn I am. I am a brat, remember? I always get what I want. But I need you to back me up this time. I need to know that you still have my back covered.

Can we pick up from where we left off, please?

karma

For lack of inspiration I write this piece on a very trivial yet ever-present thing in my life. They say that what goes around comes around. And could not help but wonder, is this why the world, my world in particular, is neck-deep in shit?

I’ve seen karma work her way in other people’s lives and mine. She was there when that little kid was running toward my little brother, stone in hand, and he tripped and broke his nose. Had he succeeded in hitting my brother, I would have broken his neck.

She was there when I snuck out of the house in the middle of the night to party and ended up sleeping outside the door because I forgot my keys.

She was there when someone grabbed a man right from another girl’s nose only to end up having some prettier girl do the same thing to her after two years.

She’s there when some woman puts a lot of men on hold and ends up having nobody because they all got tired of waiting.

She was there when a slave-driver ends up having everyone resent working under her.

She’s always there when I decide to sleep during my shift and I end up going to the office on my rest days to catch up with work.

She was there when I broke up with C to be happy and now I’m miserable and he ended up, according to him, happier than he ever was.

Karma is that force that makes one realize that hey, I knew this would happen but I did it anyway. And if I remember it right, it can be related to my least favourite subject: physics. For every action, there is always an equal opposite reaction. You find creative ways to hurt somebody, in the end, you end up hurting yourself.

I’ve spent the last few months of my life flinging shit all over the place. Now I’m neck deep in it and I don’t know how to swim my way out. Now tell me, ain’t karma a bitch?

she said good-bye to the bitch

Of the people that surround you, there are only two kinds: those that stick with you no matter how crazy you get and those that bolt at the slightest sign of weakness.

I always thought J is better than the second kind. I guess I was terribly wrong.

Shit Week

12:05 PM, May 30, 2010

In my bedroom

It's Fleet Week in New York City. It's shit week in my city.

Monday

I kicked the week off by going to the beach for one last dose of the summer sun. I had a ball running around Camp Holiday with my tomboy sister and her bulky camera. Well, it was better than nothing. My camera has been very erratic since it got soaked during that last dip in the Boracay waters with my ex-best friend. It was a good way to start the week.

Tuesday

I had to say goodbye to one of the most beautiful women in the office. Barbie may have been an irate agent but she was a good friend. Worse part is that I had to sign her “sentence” and it sucked big time. It felt so strange reading a friend’s name on a termination notice, with the ever-taray (but adorable) Katrina breathing on my neck.

I got drunk that night, but I had enough brain cells left to make myself throw all the alcohol up. I was with Barbie and the rest of her gang. It was a fun night—sang our hearts out, danced a bit, did some truth or dare (DARE!). It was one of those gimiks I know I was missing out. I got home at 10PM. Two hours later, I was already dressing for work.

Wednesday

I knew something was terribly wrong. I don’t know what it is until now but I just knew there was something amiss. Of course I was feeling all shitty but I can always blame it on the fact that I only had two hours sleep. K sent me a message saying that he just arrived in NYC and for the first time, I just typed a nonchalant reply saying “I’ve never been better”. I could not shake off the feeling that there’s an axe hanging over my head. I almost wished it would just chop my head off and get it over with.

Thursday

I succumbed to my depression. I called one of my college friends about one item she was selling and told her I was picking it up after work. As I’ve been saying over and over, next to a gab session with the girls, shopping is my best therapy. I wandered around the mall alone, picked up a pair of shoes, some other stuff I needed for pampering myself, and got a pedicure. I even thought of getting my belly pierced.

I started to ask Erick where he was (I needed someone unbiased to listed to my ranting) but decided against it on the last minute. I was down with the flu and I was sneezing every five minutes. And besides, Erick was not the person I wanted to be with that day. I needed to be with K. But he’s away, having a darn good time in New York City.

Friday

It was Sir Gary’s birthday. It was also Santacruzan and Power Talk day in the office. Almost everyone was in a festive mood. Except me. Of course I had to fake it, so I plastered on that big smile and laughed when everyone else did. I received a cold Facebook message from K saying he’s having the time of his life partying, meeting Paris Hilton and visiting family. I told him I was sick and might end up in a hospital by the end of the week.

I did not attend ACE’s bash that night. Everyone fun was there, including Carlo, my ex who recently became a chat buddy. We’re not exactly friendly, but we’re in a healthier place now. I still want to stab him with a plastic spoon most of the time but I get by just fine thinking I won’t have to endure his stupid humor everyday.

Saturday

Still no reply from K, which meant that he couldn’t care less if I died. I realized I had been so fucking stupid to check my email every hour only to find an empty inbox. My coffee date with my high school girls got cancelled because Gianelli had to be somewhere. So I ended up facing my computer all afternoon, contemplating on why Blair Waldorf is such a brat and taking Liv’s side in Bride Wars.

To top it off, I just found out that a friend who was supposed fly somewhere to pursue a possible romance was still in Davao. He told me that the flight got cancelled because of zero-visibility and that the person he was going to visit admitted to loving someone else. I wanted to bitch-slap someone to the moon, I swear!

It’s been a shitty week, alright. While K is having a roaring time celebrating Fleet Week and possibly meeting better women, I’m here alone, blogging about it. But there’s still today. And I’m hoping for a little redemption. God knows how little it will take to paint a smile on my face again.

Broken faucets and happy hearts

3:00 PM May 20, 2010
In my cube

It was by sheer luck that I arrived in the office high and dry. While I was brushing my teeth this morning, I turned the faucet on and found out too late that it’s broken. Water spouted everywhere, not missing the skirt I was planning to wear to work. I yelled for dear life, my beloved Karla came to the rescue and turned the main water line off.

So I wore jeans and a big smile to work instead. And even if I came to work dripping, absolutely nothing could ruin my day. K has finally gone beyond the world of ‘been thinking of you’ and ‘I miss you’.

The ‘new crush’ blunder in Facebook was a blessing in disguise after all. A few days ago, I announced through a status update that I have a new crush. I deleted the update when I got home though, for fear that K will read it and react.

So there I was feeling smug when he sent an email saying that it’s good that “you have someone to take care of you and keep you company” and that he’s “not that lucky’. He ended the message saying that he’s thinking of me always, “no matter what”.

That should have spelled DISASTER, which is what I thought it would be. I replied saying that the crush turned out to be gay (which I swear to God is true) and that he’s still my ultimate crush. Somehow, I felt the need to assure him that he’s still my number one, my superman. His reply to the message caught me off-guard.

He started off by telling “the truth” that he has been denying himself of the feelings he’s been having about me and that he had been thinking about a lot of things including impractical and unrealistic ways that he could do for us to be together.

He said he decided that the best thing for us to do is go on with our lives and not worry too much about the future. He said, “I have been tested, and tempted by many, but I have no desire for anyone else. I wish you were here. I would really like to get to know you more”.

When I read this message last night, it was as if the world was suddenly very small. I felt as if he was just next door instead of half a world away. I’d have screamed in delight if not for my mother sleeping soundly. His words shook me to the core.

I’ve been in this happy state since Tuesday when I woke up just after dreaming of him. In that dream, I was in his arms again and it felt so real. I swear I felt my face buried in his chest, my body circled by his protective arms. Yes, the dream catcher no longer keeps him out.

And YES, just like him, I have no desire for anyone else.

Red balloons and an ugly dress

2:55 PM, May 19, 2010
in my new workstation

I have this strange feeling that someone wrote something about us in a blog. When I say US, I mean the fabulous and beautiful people who walk this piece of real estate called DAMOSA IT Park. I belong to this group. Yes, I am fabulous and beautiful. But apparently, the person who wrote about us equates being such as being liberated. Damn her.

Let’s call her B. She’s everything you never want to be. Why? Because she abso-fucking-lutely does not have a life. Her life, if you can call it that, revolves around her computer and her bed. Sounds interesting? Not even remotely. READ: she’s not a cyber whore. She’s the exact opposite.

Have you ever associated a particular word with a person? When I hear the word FRIGID, my mind conjures a disgusting image of her. She’s practically the walking epitome of a dry spell, not just sexually. Hell, no one even wants to socialize with her.

She thinks she’s “soxal”. I roll laughing on the floor at the thought. If she is that, what do we call our Queen Bee then? B honestly looks like a rag next to a Vera Wang dress when Queen Bee is in the same room.

In case you are wondering, Queen Bee is well, the queen of the fab and beautiful. She’s B’s exact opposite. We’re having another bi-atch bash one of these days (red birthday balloons and all) and I’m betting my sexy ass B is off limits to the party again.

And she’s going to feel bad about it and call us liberated again. Just because she’s not invited, she’d turn the tables around and assume that she’s too great of a person to belong to our group. As if.

Yes, we are liberated. Hell, we’re not called bitches for nothing. But if you want the truth, we know where to stop. And bagay sa amin maging ganun. She’s just jealous because no matter how many bottles of beer she downs and sticks of cigarette she smokes, she’d never look cool. Not at all.

And just in case you’re curious, B does not stand for Bitch or Beautiful. It stands for Bakekang.

NOTE TO B: we stick together because we are friends and we live a fabulous life. Inggit ka lang! And stop wearing that ugly dress, puhleeezzz!

accepting defeat

7:07AM, May 16, 2010

I am at war with reality again.

Like it or not, I would have to slap my own face and eventually stop living in this fantasy world I created. I would have to move my cheese, pick myself up and start looking reality straight in the eye. I would have to leave my comfort zone, even if I don’t want to. Even if I’m scared shit of doing it.

In my fantasy world, everything goes my way. I have a great job which I love to do; I have fabulous friends who never leave me. I have a wonderful life full of laughter, adventure and mystery; I have a promising love-life with K, no matter how far he may be. But I would have to leave this fantasy world.

I just got word that I’m being transferred to a different account. Exciting as it may seem, I am actually scared shit of facing it head-on. It’s a new challenge, a new work environment, a new boss and new people to deal with. I have built my corporate world around the current account and now I feel like I’m starting a job just like a newly hired employee. There go the feelings of being superior, the sense of being an expert on something. Fuck, I feel like I’m back to square one.

To make things worse, I feel like I’ve broken up with my best friend. I know she means well and it means nothing to her but I couldn’t help but blame it all on my ex-boyfriend. She spends more time with him now than she does with me. I know that he needs her attention more than I do but this is getting out of hand. I can see that he’s over the heartbreak.

But Jessica’s not the same person I considered my best friend anymore: she’s cold and she does not respond to me the way she used to. I know I’m being selfish and immature and that all these things may just be a product of my crazy imagination, but I just miss her so much. She’s always been a fixture in my life, someone I can run to with stories both happy and scary. I want to still believe that she has my back the way I have hers. And I’m hoping against hope that it’s true.

And the promising love-life? If you can call a cyber romance that revolves around Facebook status comments, occasional PMs and emails using his work account promising, then YES, my love-life is in full bloom. Well there’s the almost-daily chat that we do over Facebook or Yahoo Messenger but apart from that, K is just a picture I look at when I wake up at 8:30 in the evening.

Nobody can call it an official LDR, not even K-obsessed me. We do not have commitments save for the “rest assured that there’s no one else in my life” line in a Facebook message he sent ages ago. He knows pretty much how I feel about him but I don’t know whether he wants to reciprocate. He says he misses me, says he has been thinking about me a lot. But where do we go from here? Is there a better world beyond ‘been thinking of you’ and ‘I miss you’?

I miss K more than I’ve missed anyone in my life. But I would have to face the fact that I could not go on like this forever; that I would eventually have to be that brave little kid who decided to let go instead of hold on. I am not ready to let go yet, not today, not tonight, maybe not in the next few months. But I have now come to terms with the fact that there’s abso-fucking-lutely nothing between holding on and letting go. It’s either one or the other.

I know I would have to leave the comforts of my fantasy world. I may lose a bit of my sanity in the process, I may even fall apart. Hell, it feels like I’m jumping off the edge of a 40-storey building: I know I’d be dead even before I hit the ground.

But in this war between my fantasy world against the real one, I would have to accept defeat.

Reality bites. And when it does, it makes you bleed.