It folds. I have no trouble shoving it at the back of my car. I can bring it with me anywhere.
We will have more adventures in the coming days. I’m creating new memories by myself with this new partner.
I think I’m fine with that because that’s the future I’m going to carve out for myself.
This was what a friend told me: you’ll eventually get tired of this. Just embrace it, don’t run away from it. Feel it. Grief is something you have to face head on. Cry all you want. Feel all you want. One day you’ll just get exhausted by it then you’ll just find yourself ready to walk away from it.
But right now, it’s ok to be angry. You have every right, she said. Do not deny yourself that right to be angry. Don’t give yourself a deadline; be kind to yourself. If you feel you did wrong, forgive yourself. If you feel like it’s your fault that you loved too much, forgive yourself.
As Neil Gaiman said, we don’t get over a broken heart. We just get better at living with the pain, with the wound that eventually becomes a scar. But it’s there. We just master the pain.
I don’t want this anymore. I want to be normal again.
But what is normal?
No, I take that back. Normal me is being gullible and vulnerable. What I should aspire for is being tough and emotionless.
So ok, I want to be tired soon. I want my sleep back. I want this to be over. I want to be very far away.
In my silence I would love to forget
But restitution hasn’t come quite yet
And with one accord I keep pushing forth
I stretch my heart to heal some more
It used to be all I want to learn
Was wisdom, trust, and truth
By now all I really want to learn
Is forgiveness for you
As my seasons change I’ve now grown to know
When one’s heart creates one’s soul doesn’t owe
So I wash away stains of yesterday
Then tempt my heart with love’s display
It used to be all I want to learn
Was wisdom, trust, and truth
By now all I really want to learn
Is forgiveness for you
It used to be all I want to learn
Was wisdom, trust, and truth
By now all I really want to learn
Is forgiveness for you
I am now starting to accomplish things that I’ve put in the backburner for so long. I’ve changed the 15-year-old muffler with a new one and had the diesel engine calibrated. No more smoke belching. I will soon have some things fixed like autodoor locks and alarm and then new body repair and paint (my 🤷🏻♀️ brother stuck stickers on it that I couldn’t get rid of). The guy who worked on my engine said my car’s longevity is good, it’s one of the most fuel efficient cars out there, therefore, don’t let go of it.
I have a long pipeline of leads to work on.
I’m gonna schedule my cats’ surgeries soon after bloodwork.
I’m soon gonna have my osteoma removed. Just need to file medical leave. Then to chiropractor for back pain.
I will be buying myself later this week a folding bike that I can take with me on trips. I sold his mountain bike and deposited the proceeds to his account. One glaring thing that reminds me of him everyday will soon be gone. Some more to go. I just don’t know how to send it back to him.
I bought myself a bird of paradise plant from Mt. Makiling in my hometown. I will be picking up gardening again as vegetable prices have shot up. Hopefully they will be ready for harvest during the hot dry summer months.
I need to keep busy. Need to be tired. Need to be blank by night. Sleep still eludes me.
I rode my very old purple, single speed Japanese-style bike to buy vegetables in UP this afternoon. Because I can.
Now I’m sore, not as much as when I played football for a whole day 22 years ago. Bought fruit shake from that fruit and vegetable shop, like we used to do. Now I’m creating memories of my own. Because I can.
Pahinungod (Cebuano) {pa-hi-nu-ngud}– dedication (n), offering (n), dedicate (v)
When I was a college freshman, I joined the UP Pahinungod, the volunteer arm of the university. During the summer break I was sent on a mission to Mindoro Oriental to teach English and History to incoming fourth year high school students in a sort of bridge program to prepare them for the UP College Admission Test. My time and experience there was a rude awakening, prompting me to write a scathing article about the sorry state of education in this country, especially in the rural areas.
In high school (also under UP) I was already an activist. I didn’t take things sitting down; I had to fight for what I believed was right and just. I was always pushing the envelope. I used theater and writing as instruments for my activism.
I knew at some point I would end up teaching or writing or both. Which I did in 2013 until 2014. It was my payback to the university that employed my family and that gave me free education.
I’ve stayed in this country because I wanted to use my pen to change things for the better when I could just have packed my bags and sought a better future elsewhere. Messiah syndrome. But aren’t all journalists like that? I had been dedicating my life to this cause and it brought me joy and grief.
I wonder if this love is worth fighting for. This love of country that has been tested over and over the last five years. I was almost giving up.
Because you can only fight so much.
Now that I don’t have anything, except my children (plus I am already emotionally bankrupt), I’m thinking of throwing myself at it again, one last time. I’m going to use my pen and voice (podcast?) again to fight. I don’t have anything to lose now.
And if I end up giving up, because loving this country is madness, I would have to pack my bags and lick my wounds somewhere. Heal.
Carve another road.
Photo courtesy of Cubo.ph
I had been chatting with one of my closest friends since college and I told her I want to buy this modular tiny house from Cubo.ph and I just need to hunt for a 100 sqm lot either in our hometown or by the beach.
She asked, “Do you believe in The Secret?” “No, it’s New Age. I avoid New Age stuff,” I said.
“You know, the visualization of something you want to have or what your future will be,” she said. “It seems like you don’t have space for another person in your life.”
Damned right, I don’t, I told her.
Don’t close your door, she told me.
Well, I’m tired. The same bullshit happens. It’s better to save myself from heartache that is sure to happen. Some people are made for this; I am not. I should be kind to myself and not subject myself to that ever again, I told her. Life is too short to be unhappy and miserable. I’d rather be happy alone and just devote my life taking care of my kids until they fly away. I can have a fulfilled life alone.
I may die the next day, who knows? So I just make the most of it. Buy ourselves this tiny house tomorrow since I can pay for this in cash. Do gardening, and do crafts outside my day job, save rent money and spend it for more meaningful things like travel.
Or fulfill my childhood dream of being a NatGeo journalist or a war correspondent. Having a small house is not much of a worry when you’re away for a long time because you’re on assignments.
“Don’t you want to share it with someone?”
No. Been there, done that. Both ended in ditches. I have been taken advantage of. Twice. No need to go through that again.