I had a lovely drive yesterday to my hometown to pick up my other daughter after she spent three weeks with her grandma and cousins.
On the way there, I passed by a huge fire along the highway that was causing some traffic build up. When I passed by the houses engulfed by the flames, I could feel the heat even inside my airconditioned car. Even the trees were on fire.
Fire! Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Before proceeding to my mom’s house, I drove around the campus to catch a glimpse of my old stomping ground.
I used to bring the girls here every summer when they were younger, with mats for some kind of picnic so they can run around. We flew kites too. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
It was beautiful but eerie due to absence of humans. I would have loved to lie on my back on that green grass to stare at the blue sky. But the roving police will surely apprehend me as they are still on a lockdown.
Football field without the goal posts. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I spent countless afternoons here playing football in high school and college, rain or shine. This used to be teeming with football players and athletics varsity players. I remember plunking on the grass with my sports bag every afternoon to put on my knee pads, knee socks and football boots. And gloves. Yes, I was a goal keeper. Oh how I *loved* rolling in the mud.
On the way back to Manila, I dropped off my nephew at their house and took this photo of the road that leads to bypass mountain road. I love taking this bypass road.
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
It was already dark when we arrived at home. It was nice to get out of my cave and drive to see some greenery.
I always thought that if I were an Indian woman and thin, he would have been much nicer to me and valued me more. He loves India and his nurse friend in Singapore told me he dated an Indian woman before me and that J is fond of Indian women. I remember an Indian man who J and I chatted with when we were about to try his newly opened food kiosk and he said he thought I had come from Northern India and he said I looked like one of them (it must be my black eyeliner). Then I turned to J and gave him a look that said, “Ohhhh now it makes more sense now!” He just gave me back a sheepish look, like he couldn’t explain himself. So adding up all the things I have been ruminating over the past months, I conclude that I have the wrong nationality and live in the wrong country. In short, I never had a chance so I shouldn’t have held any illusions. It could have saved me a lot of heartache. 🤦🏻♀️
As I said, I was just a space-filler.
So yeah, better to be alone than to forever question why was I not being valued when I had put this person above anything else. I must put into writing on my wall that I don’t need anybody to make me feel I have value. I need to convince myself over and over. What happened didn’t help my very low self-esteem at all and it would take me quite a while to find where my dignity and self-worth have gone.
But in the process of healing and self-discovery, I should enjoy my solo life and move forward. Plan for the things that I would do after the pandemic. Life is too beautiful to be dragged down by the past and people who have just discarded me like that.
The only rice meal for today. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Sauteed veggies with Spam wrapped with dried seaweed for breakfast. This was my only rice meal for today. It’s unintentional but I eat less these days as I forget to have lunch and will remember to eat by 3 pm. Then I will be too lazy or tired to eat dinner.
Clean desk. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I started the day with a neat desk but it didn’t help with productivity. I only edited 3 stories and I had zero story to write as all my interviews remain pending. 😫
It was about to rain. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I rode my bike and then had my walk. Spent two hours outdoors and smelled the oncoming rain. Only that it didn’t rain. 😑
Milk tea! Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I know I will regret this later tonight when I have trouble sleeping but I treated myself with milk tea on the way home. It has been quite a while since I had been inside Moonleaf.
While I was having my walk along University Avenue, I was thinking why I always thought I was an extrovert while I was growing up when all the while I exhibited introverted behaviors.
Yes, I was loud and was a chatterbox even until college. I was always surrounded by friends and was pretty sociable. But I really craved time alone and was quite happy wandering around by myself, taking walks around the campus, walking into the woods up the mountain, poking my head into book shops, writing and reading, being introspective. I would tag along with my mom to her trips but would be happy just being in the car looking outside the window, dreaming, creating stories in my head.
When I was transitioning to highschool and every summer vacation thereafter, I would just be content creating my routine around the house if I was not spending time in my grandparents’ house with my cousins. Doing chores, reading tons of books, watering the garden, using the ham radio, watching movies… It was boring but I didn’t give myself a chance to be bored. I made myself busy just pottering around the house.
So yes, I was an ambivert; I thrive when I was with people but I am also quite happy alone. However, I realized that the older I get, the more introverted I become. I can spend two weeks inside the house without going out. But that’s already a stretch.
It works for me as well because a journalist must genuinely like people to be interested in what they say because that’s where the stories come from. A journalist must love talking to people. However, a journalist must also be able to work alone because writing is a solo effort. I can spend the entire day being just inside my head as I draft my articles, especially if they’re long form articles.
I was thinking all of these because it struck me now that I am beginning to enjoy the NOW, this moment–this solo life. That I don’t need to consider somebody else in my decision-making. Yes I do miss the companionship and the conversations with a partner but I am now starting to appreciate the aloneness. It would be difficult now to give up this stability that I’m starting to feel. I think I am getting a little bit grounded.
It has been exactly five months and two days since he left. It’s still there.
But I am getting the hang of this. I am getting better. And growing more introverted is helping me a lot.
The storm drain where we rescued my cats. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
It will soon be the first anniversary of COVID-19 quarantine. I don’t know how long I can take it anymore. One year. We’re now experiencing a second wave, with daily new cases reaching 3000 3,500. But this stupid government still doesn’t have a clear vaccination on program. 🤦🏻♀️
Anyway, this also meant that my cats will be almost 1 year old. We found them late April or early May at the back of Institute of Chemistry. I visited today on my bike that storm drain where we found them trapped. It was so overgrown with weeds and other debris.
My cats are so lucky we found them before they died of hunger and dehydration in this storm drain. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I went around the Science Complex before proceeding to the vegetable shop for our weekly supplies. My bike now sports a new detachable handlebar bag from Decathlon so that my green leafy veggies will not get crushed in the other bag tied to my pannier. I’m so happy with it. I no longer have to carry a backpack (which is annoying when I bike).
I love my bike. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
This coming Holy Week I will be bringing the girls and our bikes to my hometown. Let’s see if I can reach other towns in Laguna with just my pedaling power. Maybe I’ll ride with some high school classmates. It’ll be a whole new adventure going around Laguna on a bike.
UP Observatory. We never had a chance to check out the telescope there. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
During my bike ride last week, I was able to slip through some back entrance to the Science Complex to bike in peace and to catch a glimpse of the place. I was wondering why the place still had a special meaning to me, despite all that was said and done. I went cycling around the amphitheater and then it dawned on me: Our daily walks there during the strict lockdown in April and May last year was like a simulation of what it feels like if we were the only ones left in the world. It was like just the two of us against the world. Just the two of us. Walking hand-in-hand, stealing kisses, being free from the restrictions that were imposed on us by the lockdown, by our responsibilities, and by circumstances. It was just being in that moment, the “now” that was enveloping us, and the feeling of owning the place at that moment we were there. And the feeling that there will be tomorrow to look forward to, like scheduling a viewing of the telescope/through the telescope at the Observatory and rescuing cats from the storm drain and seeing them through adulthood.
But all that has come to an end. It is all a memory.
There was still a lump in my throat the second time I cycled around there. But at least I didn’t shed a tear like the first time I visited the place after so many months.
Maybe I’m getting better? I fervently hope so. I had a crappy weekend, feeling down and textversations with friends exacerbated the heaviness because these led to opening the wounds that I try to bury but they were just festering in the dark, not really healing.
But I am surviving. He did not break me.
You did not break me I’m still fighting for peace I’ve got thick skin and an elastic heart But your blade it might be too sharp I’m like a rubber band until you pull too hard I may snap and I move fast But you won’t see me fall apart Cos I’ve got an elastic heart
One of my closest friends in the industry just sent this link this morning and asked how was my sleep. I responded that it’s better than the previous week, which was horrible. He has been keeping tabs on my sleep and he was the one sending me messages everyday since Day 1 to ask what will I do that day. It’s his way of making sure I get my ass off the bed and not spend the rest of my days sulking.
Anyway, I responded to this link by saying that “Yes. But it’s the hurting that is hard.”
Then I continued, “As I told him during our last face to face talk, it’s useless to keep fighting when you already gave up.” That’s why I didn’t try to change his mind. I was fighting for the last six months of that relationship while he didn’t. That is that.
I remember him telling me that where he was when we were together is not something he wanted for himself. He cannot see his future with me. It’s not somewhere he wanted to be. That hurt a lot because I’ve given him everything I could give but it wasn’t enough. I was never enough.
No appreciation. No thank you. Only sorry.
How can I even love myself when the person I gave my world to cannot even appreciate it and treated me like dirt ?
