Monday, October 24, 2016

I am okay

I know I have resolved to write here more, but several obstacles have prevented me from doing so--not the least of which is my inability to remember my password. I'd try for a couple of times, then stop trying altogether. And then I delay.

Just now I have decided to try a bit harder, and here I am, finally! :) My first update in half a year?

Try harder--that's what I failed to do here, in this makeshift journal, and that's what I fail to do with my love life. I guess I have to note here in some way that my more than two year-relationship has ended a couple of months ago. Yep. There goes my longest relationship.

I would have written a couple of things just to "honor" what we had, but the memories have mostly been forgotten, deliberately or inadvertently. Looking back, still, that will always be the benchmark by which I would measure any prospective relationship. That sounds pretty fucked up, comparing a future that has no real existence to a past that ended for the right reasons. But my ex and I, I would like to think, were doing fine. We had mutual respect for each other, and I would always be the first person to vouch for his happiness.   I would even venture to say that, despite the general inaccuracy of feelings, I loved him. Whether as a really good friend or as a romantic partner, I guess I will find out in the future. He remains to be one of the kindest and most selfless people I have ever had the honor of having cross paths with in my life.

But that's the problem. We were doing fine. We were coasting along. And I don't want to coast along. I didn't want to remember my late 20s pouring in all my time for work and for a relationship, and not knowing where and who I am. 

It's funny, because I know what I didn't want. But I don't know what I want either. And not knowing is okay.

I am okay. All things considered, I am in a pretty good place now. I know I am a relationship person, but being in a relationship for the most part of my adult life has bred in me a perennial sense of disappointment and discontent; I was always looking, asking, expecting for something more, when all I needed was to be by myself.

Don't get me wrong, though--I date. Like, a lot. Being single again after a long time of being cooped up in the relationship bubble has really opened my eyes up to all those apps. But unlike before, I don't go out there with a sense of optimism. I let things unfold and not force them to become a creature that I'd later be discontent with, in either a few weeks or a few years. This definitely means that I am more scrupulous when it comes to commitments, rarely jumping into adventures without caution, but my renewed approach to take things more cautiously despite my instinct works for me.

These days you'd see me working late nights, drinking and going out with friends, sometimes partying out, going to the gym as regularly as possible, hanging out with my family, and often just being alone watching TV series (totally hooked on Transparent, which deserves another post) or reading books after a long night. 

I honestly believe that this is the best version of myself so far. It could get better--I still have those random pangs of sadness, and I could be more financially stable, and I could do with a little less traffic driving to and from work. Of course, I could also do with a  little less stress with work, but I guess legal practice is by itself a whole bag of problems waiting to be solved by people who don't know any better. Definitely, the President could do with a little less blabbering to help me sleep more peacefully at night (to selfishly put it).

But I am okay. And being okay, right here, right now at this point in my life, is more than okay.

Monday, March 7, 2016

What I wouldn't tell you

This is what I wouldn’t tell you: I hadn’t been replying to your messages, deliberately missing your calls, ditching your invitations to go out for coffee or yogurt--not because I was preoccupied with yoga, or work, or exercise, or whatever shitty excuse I could come up with. I simply didn’t want to. I had had enough of knowing everything about your life, and you knowing very little of mine. I was enough of being your soundboard, of everyone’s soundboard, really—and I guess you were the representation of that, just because you talked louder than everyone else, said a lot more about your life to me than everyone else did.

I guess I had the obvious revelation: everyone’s so self-absorbed. Talking about their plans and how great they’ve done, or how they’ve fucked up, or what they want to do. Everyone is so loud, saying what they will on social media, even if the issue really is of little concern to them. I mean, when was the last time anyone really cared about gay rights and meant it? Before shit hit the fan, when did anyone have an opinion they actually believed in, and not just because it was the trending topic?  

But you had known all the time, hadn’t you? You had known that I was somehow getting fed up; what you didn’t know was why, exactly. What you had done, and what was the turning point when I decided I was out.

Maybe I’m selfish as well, except that I am keenly aware of it? I have to admit. Those random nights (the number of which I could still count in one hand, and I deserve credit for that) was not so much to make new friends, but to allow them to form an opinion of me—how it is to be admired, to be liked, to be singled out of the crowd. I allow myself that, before I retreat to my room in the office, where hours of working until the late night stretch out before me. 

And this is where I drop that line: it’s not just you. It’s me. There are days when I am perfectly happy and content and ready, pleased even, to grind to work on my dreams. But there are days, such as this one, when I can’t help but ask myself: what are all these for, really? What are my dreams? What do I really want anyway? Who am I? I start thinking that I’m fine, the wounds have healed. And then I’ll revert to my old self and fuck up again, and not let anyone know. Because how do I even start? I was never the dramatic, revelatory type, and I’m not going to start now. I have managed all on my own. And I’m doing fine, really—I said to myself, and the thought becomes reality.

But the good part is that you will never know why, and you will never ask, because we don’t talk about these things. And I will just simply parachute myself at the forefront of your life, just exactly where I used to be a few weeks, months ago. And then we will talk again like nothing happened, like we were the best friends that we had been a few months ago.




Sunday, January 24, 2016

2016 Goals

I've always tried (and failed to live up to) New Year's resolutions.

But I wanted this year to be different. My boyfriend and I had a big fight about it: I told him I looked back at the year that was. And although it was exciting and turbulent (passed the bar, started my first "real" work, etc.), I couldn't help but feel stuck. That this--working late nights, stressing over deadlines, going to him on weekends--was all that lifev has to offer me now, and in the years to come. I could just vanish and nobody would notice, and I could be doing the same thing over and over again until I realize was 40 years old. I told him I was losing myself, my own sense of who I am.

I don't know, but I feel like 2016 should be an important year. This really is the first time I'm not held back by grades or academic requirements. Work is hard, but I am in total control of the direction of my career.

So I told myself, and I told my partner, that maybe I should try out the waters and find out what I really want. I have come up with a list and have been sticking to it so far. I also made sure to make it as precise and concrete as possible.

So just for the sake of putting it out there in the universe:

1. Do mindfulness meditation everyday.
2. Go to the gym/do yoga at least once a week.
3. Go out more often! (Drink with friends, play board games, go mountain hiking, go on trips together, etfc.)

I'm pretty sure my partner's a bit surprised/shocked at some of the changes he's been seeing, but it helps that he's secure and that he's allowing me to become my own person.

Anyway, just now, right after I finished my 17th day of meditation, I realized that maybe all that--working late nights, stressing over deadlines, and go to him on weekends--wasn't all that bad. Actually, it wasn't at all that bad.

Hey, that's gratitude. Maybe this meditation thing is starting to work after all.