Legally Stressed, And All That Shit

Free falling

2012-05-18T21:18:00.001+08:00

Looking back at some of my blog posts, I realize that I’ve allowed myself to be sad for too long. Yeah, I’d have brief bouts of happiness, but they’d be overcome by long stretches of sadness in between. I even started to welcome the sadness right in, if only because there was a slight chance that I’d be happy at some indeterminate point in the future.

I’m still sure ending the recent pseudorelationship was the mature-slash-the-right thing to do. I’m telling you, it sure took a hell lot of guts, to see someone you care for leave. I was so sure that was it. I was watching the one walk away.

But I agreed to do it anyway, not because I wanted him to run after me—that wasn’t even in my wildest dreams—but because I knew I had to stop myself from sinking deeper into sadness just so I can get a few minutes of happiness. I don’t know exactly what love means, just that it’s supposed to hurt sometimes. And I was in pain pretty much half the time.

“We accept the love we think we deserve.” I never really understood what this meant. Now I understand that maybe it’s about allowing yourself to take all the pain that comes along with the love. For a while I was willing to take both the pain and the love in, but then it became unbearable and I had to grapple for the exit sign faster than I could hold my breath.

Now that someone’s taking me along on another ride, I can’t help but wonder if this is the kind of love I deserve.

He’s incredible (only because I have no other word for it) in every way, and everything’s been great, and (again, for a lack of better word) I’m just happy…That’s precisely why I can’t help but ask: Isn’t this much more than what I should be getting? Am I way out of my league? Am I too unsure? A little too rash? Taking things a bit too fast?

You see, I’d been sad for quite a while and I’m not even used to writing about how happy I am. And the moment I start becoming genuinely happy, I start doubting myself. And the nagging thought that this is not permanent or that I’ll be sad soon starts creeping in. I won’t even try to deny it: I’m scared.

But. It looks like things are finally looking up. Maybe I finally get to be happy. Maybe it’s finally about time I stop second guessing myself and just fucking go for it. Maybe it’s time to free fall.

Wounds left dry

2012-05-13T16:16:00.004+08:00

Since the breakup, I've developed a sense of entitlement I don't deserve to have. I pass writing assignments as late as a week ahead of the deadline. I've even stopped giving excuses, because by now, my clients must have realized how lame and ridiculous they are. Besides, at this point, I might have singled out every possible excuse to not write.

The only time I can ever really get words out of my mind is when I remember a certain memory that brings me back to when we were together. When that happens, wherever I am, I'd take out whatever device or piece of paper I can scribble on, and just let myself express.

I'm not in one of those times, but let me try to string words together without the requisite overload of emotions. Let me try to get back on my feet again.

Music helps. I don't think I've listened to music this much. Here's one song on repeat. I guess I could relate to the song--how something so good begins and progresses for quite a while, and how it has to stop all at once, and how the chances of running away start to slim down.... As for us, well, I think we managed to run away before the doors were too hot to touch.

It helps that I get to talk to him every once in a while. That I find out he's doing well. And that's reason enough for me to move on and get over it. If anything, I'm damn competitive. I don't think I'd allow myself to sulk in a corner pathetically living through the memories over and over again, knowing that he's quite happy with himself.

I get sad and tear up at the most random moments. I got sad when we landed from the plane. That one time when I was just reading a finance-related article. Even when I was fucking walking in the mall. And yes, I realize how sad and pathetic that is. I've been through five formal relationships for fuck's sake, but not once can I recall being so stubbornly stupid in love. I'm simply not supposed to be the type of guy whose life fritters away after getting his heart broken.

Am I still holding on to that slimming chance that someday, when, as he said, the world becomes nicer, he might consider this life? I think that saying yes would be blind optimism, and I'm not even optimistic to begin with. So I'm saying no. Because no is the probably the truth. Because no is pessimistic, and no is who I am.

When I'm sad I stop myself from asking him: "Is it possible to get back together?" Instead I take out a sheet of paper listing what the reasons are for breaking up. The blood isn't in my hands. More blood is smeared in his than in mine. I remind myself that it was a decision that had to be made, a decision that I have to be mature enough to stand by. So stop being so fucked up, because you brought this upon yourself,

This is also the point where I realize that in the end, there's really no one else to pick me up but myself. I've been dating, but it didn't change a thing. Once I took out my phone and rudely texted in front of the other guy. Texted him, in fact. I couldn't care less for the guy I was dating. I wasn't interested, but for propriety's sake, that wasn't a gentlemanly thing to do.

I did meet someone who understood my situation. I can't say I'm counting on that person just yet, or if i can ever count on anyone ever again. But just like music, I have to say: it really helps.

Right now I'm just trying to write.

The sadness

2012-05-07T14:33:00.000+08:00

It can get so strong that it consumes me. I asked him how he does it, and he told me he busies himself with movies and books.

See, I can't do the same. because it's the kind of sadness that paralyzes me. It pains me that I can't really talk about it to anyone. It pains me even more that I have to purposely stop and forget something that meant so much to me.

A doctor told me the only way to deal with pain is to do just that: deal with it. I didn't really understand what she meant, but what I know for sure is I can't keep trying to put the memories in a tiny box and pushing it farther and farther off my mind. Trying to forget...it just doesn't work anymore. The only thing it does is give you a temporary calm. Trying to soak all the sadness in... it only ends up drowning me.

Then when you think you've moved on and stopped thinking about him...There it goes again. That fucking memory of just talking in the car trying to sort things out. Or of kissing like fucking teenagers. Or plainly fucking and making love.

I didn't think it was possible for me be in too deep.

I'd like to get out. But I'd love to crawl back in.

Habits

2012-04-27T00:58:00.000+08:00

It takes 21 days to form a habit. But it took me much less than that to know that I wanted you. I don’t know how or why… I just knew. After several failed relationships and random dates, by now I’ve developed the uncompromising ability of knowing whether something will work or not. And for a while I thought nothing would work out, until you came. And I didn’t have to wait 21 days to know you’d be a habit I’d be having a hard time forgetting.

Is it because I’m a visual person? Is that the reason why I’m unable to erase the memories off my mind? Is there any other explanation why I keep remembering the smallest most random things for the past four months? Because believe me, I tried. I am trying like hell to forget. I am trying to forget that we once held hands in your car. Or maybe twice. Probably thrice. I almost quit on you, because it hurt too much when you told me you could never choose me, choose this life. I said it was fine with me, then you told me you’d leave sooner or later—probably sooner. Then I said it was fine with me—that’s what I’m trying to forget.

Because kissing you was always better than the last one, and because every now and then you’d do something that would just cut right through me, and because, I swear to God I only wanted you to be happy. So yeah, it was fine with me, really, because I wouldn’t trade the feeling of having you for anything, not even knowing that you’d leave me anyway.

I think I read into every word you said, every little thing you did—and I did—too much. Were you getting bored? Was I in too deep? Is it too obvious? Am I caring too much? Am I giving you too much credit for who you really are? Are you finally going to choose me? Am I crossing the vague line beyong loving you at the expense of hurting myself? Is there even such a thing as too much?

You see, it was never in my nature to just let go. I was never the type to just go with the flow, and throw to luck the off-chance that we might be together some day. But I guess that’s exactly what I did. I see now how stupid that is, because how can you choose a life you’re ashamed of? How can you choose a person you can’t be proud of?

So yeah. I want to forget. I badly, crazily, unreservedly want to forget.

But if I could? I’d gladly do it all over again.

3 Artists

2012-04-17T21:17:00.002+08:00

One of the hobbies I have been able to sustain is listening to and scouting for new music. I think it's one of the things that got me through my Final exams month without going crazy, considering that I had been almost always alone during those days.

Let me share three artists I've discovered over the past weeks:

1. Birdy. If I'm not mistaken I've listened to this song a hundred times already, and to her entire album just as many times. Her rendition of this Postal Service song broke my heart, once I sat down and tried to figure out what it was all about.

As I understand it, the song talks about being kept a secret lover and eventually being left alone. By the end of the song, the artist realizes, "I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving." Her voice and melody are simply beautiful, and the start of this song was simply heartbreaking for me.

2. Lana Del Rey. Her voice and her live performances and her beauty all come together to form what comes off to me as a sad and haunting artist. This song, I think, is pretty straightforward. It talks about how Lana struggled so hard to finally get on the radio and how she's loving her success so far. The song mentions cinnamon a couple of times and that's enough reason for me to love this song. Haha.

3. Mumford & Sons. Mumford & Sons isn't exactly a recent discovery, but I found a compilation of their unreleased songs recently and it's been on loop ever since. This song comes from their first studio album. It talks about, well, what happens after the storm. There's an obvious gospel angle to this, which makes me love it even more.

Obviously, this post is a sad little attempt at talking about something I can't talk about to other people who are simply not as passionate and interested in the music I listen to.

And just let me add, I've been really happy--or should I say content--the past days. There's nothing like the thrill of learning something new and being genuinely interested in it. I wake up everyday with a sense of purpose as to what I want to do and how I will do it. I'm (finally) slowly getting over my fears, maybe because some of them have been realized and I'm still alive. I think I'm finally out of my dark cloud and ready to start doing happy things :)

Cold and maybe okay with it

2012-04-12T13:29:00.002+08:00

This morning, I checked my Facebook account and found out through one of my Facebook groups that the little circle of high school friends I am part of (or used to be part of) will be going on a summer trip. I didn’t realize there were any plans at all, until it occurred to me that I hadn’t been checking out my account for quite a while.

We were a group of 11 friends and ever since we graduated from high school, they would get together. I never went to any, except one or two I think. My non-attendance was not a conscious effort on my part, but I somehow found a legitimate excuse not to go in one way or another. And at some point I guess they just got fed up and labeled me as the guy who was always absent. That said, I think it’s polite of them to invite me to their Facebook group.

I can’t tell when it began, but I can say now that I’ve mastered the art of small talk, of revealing just enough for people to think that I’m close friends with them, and of being utterly superficial. I’ve somehow ingrained in my mind that friendship can only go so far and although having deeper relationships with my friends has crossed my mind, I don’t think they have the same thing in mind. To be honest, I don’t like the idea of giving away my secrets, only for them to use it against me sometime in the future.

But I do reveal myself every now and then, only to a very few people I trust. I talk about my deepest insecurities and fears which I won’t even dream of letting anyone know, I let loose and stop trying to make an impression, and I just let my guard down. Often that person is the one I’m currently seeing. I realize how dangerous that is, because history has shown that my relationship with that person never works out. This leaves me with a terribly bitter aftertaste—that who I really am won’t ever be enough to make anyone stay. Sometimes I feel so alone in my thoughts, but then I’ve conditioned myself to thinking, aren’t we all alone anyway?

I know all the lectures that go with this kind of problem—that you’re smart, you shouldn’t be so cold and secretive, that you should open up more, etc. What these lectures don’t tell you is how to begin. Because I sure as hell don’t know how to—or if I even want to. Because I don’t want anyone to think that I need saving…I don’t. And because once I try to take a step forward, I realize that hey, I’m not in such a bad place after all.

Change

2012-04-07T13:45:00.003+08:00

I told myself I'd spend the Holy Week trying to figure out if this was really what i wanted. Do i really want to become a lawyer? I'm almost halfway through yet i'm wondering if i can take two more years of studying every night for the next day's bunch of cases and laws, of walking right through the door and scrambling for cases i wasn't able to read the previous night, of the constant fear of failing. I am aware that studying may for all i know be a lot different from practice.

but i've been told that the practice doesn't get any better--because then you'd realize how blatantly the law is being violated. and how one by one, or perhaps even all at once, your ideals start to crumble in the mess that is the legal system.

Just last week, we interviewed a labor union for our paper in Labor law. We were supposed to look beyond the fallo of a decision by the courts, and explore the soundness of their decision. The case involved a bunch of employees laid off by a company in apparently unjust terms. Years have passed, but the employees related their pain as if it only happened yesterday. All the while I was thinking to myself--that was the pain they'd had to endure for years.

And, maybe, I think, for some insanely ideal reason, that's the pain I am capable of preventing should I continue with this track. I'm not even sure that's the track I'd veer towards (because a selfish side of me just wants a hell lot of money), but the chance of being able to effect change? Just to be able to have that tiny chance.... I figured it might be damn worth it.

I don't think I'm a bad person. But I know I've done bad things when I was all stressed and worked up during school days. I was mean to my friends and shut them down, I was always in a bad mood, and I was especially hard on myself. During those days, all I had to keep me going were the wrong reasons for staying. I'd just keep at it like a robot, not thinking of why I was where I was. I forgot how much I hated unfairness and how capable I am of empathizing with people. I'm working on getting that back.

I should write this down, I told myself. Because I know that in a few week's time, I'd be asking myself why the hell I allowed myself to go through all this mess. If that happens then, I won't tell any of my friends because they're just as jaded and I don't want to sound cheesy, given my recent record of not disclosing what I truly feel to pretty much everyone I know and love. So for now, I will write this all down. And for now, I will watch Desperate Housewives for as long as I want and try to prevent this stupid zit from surfacing.

A conversation

2012-04-05T22:57:00.000+08:00

do you see yourself with someone who's going to leave? At a time when you can't afford emotional instability?

my analogy goes something like this. if someone you love only had a number of days left to live (say, family) because of a terminal disease, will you just withdraw, move on, para di ka mahirapan? No. Wouldn't you want to spend as much time as you can with him or her and just simply appreciate those moments?

For what it's worth, I wouldn't be able to leave anyway. Because for all the differences and the disappointments, and the good in himself that he might not even realize, it all just works out. He's enough.

How to be happy

2012-04-01T19:45:00.001+08:00

I am happy.

I know I’ll find a reason to be slightly depressed or disappointed over something for one reason or another. I know it’s been almost two days since we’ve stopped talking for circumstances beyond our control. In the fairly near future, this tiny paradise we’ve created over the course of ninety days will probably crumble—and I’ll more likely be banging my head against the wall for not stopping when I had the chance….

But I am happy. For the past three months and counting, I wake up, think about a ton of things to do for the day and somewhere along I remember how alive I feel again.

I can barely remember a thing from the past year aside from studying getting depressed studying being alone studying, and never measuring up to my goals. The school year was off to a terrible start to say the least (a topic I will set aside for future documentation), and a blurry haze of guys came and left. I felt nothing for any of them and, for a while, I thought I would never try again. I would never just jump and go for it.

But I did. And once I laid all my cards on the table, it just felt right: to let the guy who's vastly different but similar, full of life and happiness, in. To be honest, it's unlike everything I've been in before. But once I wore my heart on my sleeve even for just this one person, it started to just happen. Happiness poured in.

Keeping myself sane

2012-02-17T12:09:00.000+08:00

My ex, the one I was in a relationship with the longest, and I talked last night. Throughout the course of our conversation, we happened to talk about how we used to be as a couple.

I asked him about how I was as a boyfriend. He recalled how much I was in love, how swept off my feet I was. And in those moments, I did make him feel like he was the only person I would love.

He talked to me about how he would text me the plate number of the bus he was in, so I could wait for it in the bus stop and we could be together on our way to school. It didn’t matter if we were going to be 45 minutes late for my 8 AM class and that I might possibly miss a quiz, which I did for a number of times; what mattered was that we were together on our way to school.

He reminded me of my “grand gestures” and how we met secretly after class, because we couldn’t risk anyone seeing us. But we did end up risking everyone seeing us.

Then he told me how fragile my love was. How I tolerated the difficulties at first but ultimately let go because of them. There were certain things I just couldn’t look past at, and it ultimately led to the demise of the relationship. That was one mistake he did, and it was one mistake that drove me away. And I never looked back hence.

I wasn’t surprised by this, since it seems to have become a habit of mine when it comes to relationships. There are certain things that must be corrected in the relationship, lest I fall out of love. I may not know myself well enough, but that’s always been my breaking point—whenever the going gets a little too tough for me, I get out of it altogether.

I didn’t need to hear it from him, but I needed his confirmation. I needed to hear his words. Because that’s precisely what I need right now—to take comfort in the fact that once in the far future, I will be able to move forward and get a hold of myself. That I can forget and never look back and maybe if I’m lucky, be delusional enough to believe that relationships like this can work. It’s what I need to keep myself sane.

Don't leave me hanging

2012-02-04T16:57:00.001+08:00

There are days when I’m so sure quitting is the only way out. And then, by some stroke of unfortunate hope, I find myself crawling back. Wounded, but hopeful nonetheless. It’s basically a cruel cycle of optimism and misery, hoping that one day, for reasons unknown, he'd suddenly make up his mind. And that he'd choose me.

But at this point, I just want an answer.

Leave me or stay. Just fucking choose.

Recent events

2012-01-17T21:12:00.002+08:00

I went on a random date last Saturday. He was a nice guy, but it's no big secret I already had somebody else in mind. Why did i do it? Among a few reasons at the top of my head is the need to feel desired. Of course, there was no guarantee that my date would like me--but I'm glad he did.

He told me I was too proper and that I should open up. He told me that I should have fun, then proceeded to ask me personal questions about how I am as a lover, what I'm looking for in a partner, and things I don't really think deserve an answer on the first date. By the end of the date, he concluded that I was an abrasive guy (but strangely enough, this didn't stop him from "attaching" to me).

I know that he's not exactly right. I may not be the type to blend easily in conversations. I get annoyed at the smallest things. I don't like being forced to do things that I don't like. But give me the right person, and I'll talk about my dreams, my private thoughts, my insecurities, and my unsolicited drama. I could be someone's best.

***

I went on a funeral of a friend's mom a couple of weeks back. Forgive me for sounding self-absorbed, but don't deaths and funerals make us realize how short our time here is? It can be as soon as tomorrow on my way to school, or a few weeks as I'm writing this. Mindblowing, that we can't really ever know when our time is up.

The point is: life is short. It's a simple enough fact, but a lot of people seem to forget it, including me. Life is short, so what's the point of sweating over the small things? Life is short, so why should we worry so much about what other people think at the expense of what will really, really make us happy? Life is short, so why do we allow ourselves to go through the motions and not give the very best in every endeavor? Why don't we pursue what we really want? Why do we permit ourselves to get hurt when it's plainly unnecessary?

It is for this reason that I've decided (1) to actively work on worthwhile relationships and people, and (2) just go for it, which really just means that I should be more spontaneous. Haha.

I just don't want to be the person who wounds up at his deathbed, regretting all the failed relationships and endeavors he could've worked out by simply trying a little bit harder.

A slight heartbreak

2012-01-14T18:53:00.000+08:00

It's been a while since I felt this feeling--the vulnerability, annoying attachment, .the desire to know everything about a person who clearly doesn't, or can't, feel the same.

I can easily classify myself as a private person, but I just found myself pouring everything into a person who wouldn't even tell me his last name. I'm pretty sure this will come down as one of the greatest ironies in my life--liking somebody who wouldn't ever be as near to me as I want to, when there are other guys who are willing to stay,

The only logical thing to do, really, is to run for self-preservation. But I reel myself back in. It's my own doing.

It's a shame, really. I'm finally ready to try again, but fate is too unkind. I know I should start moving forward, but how do I even start?

Christmas issues

2011-12-26T18:46:00.002+08:00

To say that I love Christmas would be an understatement. From the cold weather, the nine dawn masses (which I’ve successfully completed in between rushing for last-minute law-related stuff and parties), the rabid anticipation as the clock strikes twelve and everybody in the family gathers for the Noche Buena, the opening of gifts, to the general feeling of gratitude for having a complete and tightly knit family…. Christmas has always been a reminder of how good life gets.

But this Christmas is different for a certain reason.

My sister, to whom I am very close, will be leaving for work abroad early next year. It’s what she always wanted, and with the miserable state of employment here in the country, there isn’t really any other choice, is it?

Her leaving means that I’ll lose the last strand of any semblance of a social life that I have. I did mention before that I live a very routinary life, mainly composed of staying in my apartment for the school days and going home on the weekends. During these days we’d banter around, talk about our common sphere of interests, and do crazy stuff together whenever time permits. So yes, she’s my sister and, at the risk of being teased by her on the off-chance that she reads this, my best friend.

Oh sister, how will I manage without you around? You’re one of the few if not the only one who understands my jokes, who actually cares, and who’s just there. So tell me, what do I do now?

***

At the risk of being called insensitive, of course I am deeply sad about the plight of the Sendong victims. The problem is I haven’t done anything of note to actually help—and this is what gets me. I feel the need to do something more than empty words and donations. But what, exactly? I am at a loss.

My prayers are with them.

***

Oh boy. Look at the date. Around these days last year I was getting to know a certain someone. We eventually got into a relationship, which lasted for a little less than six months and which was my last relationship.

For the record, I really did think that he was the one. I guess I should say sorry to myself. I’m pretty sure I’m romanticizing and reading more into the relationship than I should be, but I really did think that was the one.

Of course I’ve moved on, but what bothers me is my complete inability to make a connection. Dates can be a chore; I find it ridiculously difficult to sustain a conversation during such—laughing on cue, responding appropriately, and so on and so forth.

To be honest I’m getting troubled. I wonder when HE will come around.

Oh, and before I forget: MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Let Me Gloat

2011-12-10T17:28:00.004+08:00

Today I got a letter:

(Proof of how I couldn't edit photos even if my life depended on it)

It was an invitation for a summer internship program from what apparently is one of the biggest law firms in the country. Yay? I'm having second thoughts about pursuing this though because: my usual bouts of insecurities are kicking in, and I just want to have one long summer of doing absolutely nothing.

Still, it's pretty cool to be one of the "top" law students, as per last school year. Haha! I'm not sure I can do the same this year, so I better boast now, or I won't ever get the chance.

Ohhh by the way, I went on a date yesterday. He was nice, and he kept me interested throughout the entire thing. And also, that was one of the few dates I actually cared about, in that I had the decency to brush my teeth, comb my hair, and look long and hard in front of the mirror before meeting him. All that right after I got out of my terror class.

Anyway, this guy I'm talking about is a friend of a friend. He's not exactly my type--but I find myself waiting for his texts. I know better than to show too much interest though, because I know myself. And I know for a fact that this is just one of those times where I want another person to badly like me, and ignore him the moment he does. Hah. The point is that I don't want to play another round of my senseless affirmation-seeking game.

Which is why this quote from one of my favorite authors is appropriate in describing who (or what) I am:

I wanted it, I wanted it, I wanted it, but the moment it was mine it ceased to interest me.

I wonder when that one person who'll never cease to interest me will come... I mean, really, is that so much to ask for?

And have I mentioned that I ran into my ex earlier this week? My friends and I were in the mall, both of whom know of this recent relationship. Then just like that, he appeared out of nowhere, our eyes met, and we both gave a brief glance and mouthed 'hi' with our lips. And that was it. The first time we saw each other since we last broke up six months ago. Ahh, six months. This month's also that month last year where we started talking to each other after college.

What did I feel when I saw him? First I panicked at the thought that he might have seen me look all stressed. Next I noticed how he got fatter since we last saw each other. And last, I remembered how I ran into him in the same mall when we were still in a relationship. He was with his family and he couldn't bring himself to walk away for five minutes just to talk to him. And I was there looking at him from a distance. Because I was stupid. Yes, my heart thumped for a few minutes and for a while I couldn't understand what I was feeling. And yes, I pondered on the possibility that I was probably still in love with him. But no, I realized that what I felt was no longer love, but a nostalgia of how we were and what we used to be. And just like that, closure from within has been re-affirmed.

My life is boring

2011-12-03T15:27:00.002+08:00

I wasn't surprised when somebody else said it out loud.

My life is boring. I wake up, I go to the library (and sometimes, for good measure, grab a quick breakfast in a convenience store or wherever), attend class, study right after, go to a coffee shop near my place to study, then go home to my empty apartment. I no longer log in to Facebook as often as I used to--which means that I practically dissolved the last strand of my sorry social life. Just yesterday, I forgot my cellphone and didn't even bother worrying if anybody was looking for me; in fact I was quite happy, because not having it with me meant that I didn't have to talk with someone who's been annoying me for quite a while.

When I got home to check my phone, I had a few messages, one of which was from a guy I used to date asking me out for dinner. Her friend texted me too, asking me to come out with the guy. I deleted the messages and went on with my life.

I'm not exactly miserable. But I must admit, I do get sad every now and then, if only for the sheer lack of people to talk to about life, the music that I like, the movies that I love, and everything else in between. If only for the lack of something to look forward to, except a recitation or an exam.

I've always taken a sense of curiosity with the fact that some gay men seem to have much more colorful love lives than I do. I'm surely not that abominable. Why hasn't anyone been asking me out?! No sooner than I ask this question do I realize the reason why: I don't socialize; I stay at home on Friday and Saturday nights; I watch movies alone; and, the game of flirting has become a tired exercise for me.

This is not a call for help. This isn't even a call for friends to come over. This is simply an admission that I need something else in my life aside from my law books and my pride. So maybe I should do something new, try to make a few changes in my life. But how do I do that without losing the essence of who I am in the process?

An attempt at conversation

2011-11-13T22:44:00.001+08:00

I haven't been talking much, have I?

In the past few months, I saw myself careening through the stress of final exams. In retrospect, I don't think I've ever studied that hard and that long. I'm honestly amazed at myself--at how I woke up everyday at 8:30 AM and never stopped studying until it was time to sleep.

But what's even more amazing is how my priorities gradually shifted. In the early months of the semester I saw myself dating around, trying my luck on finding a partner that could possibly replace the last. And then, just like that, I stopped.

I stopped trying not to be alone. Stopped caring that my ex found a replacement less than a week after we broke up. Stopped caring about physical and emotional imperfections that he would carelessly point out every now and then. I just stopped. And thank God I did.

**

So what have I been up to lately? Aside from reading books, working, and spending time with my family in what little free time I have, I also watch movies. Just the other day I watched there was a filmfest in Greenbelt. I watched with my sister, and ended up getting free tickets to this film:

The film portrays a modern Italian guy's attempt at making his family understand homosexuality. It's so much more than that, of course, so you'll have to go find a copy of the film yourself. What I can say is that it's a great film that personally made me laugh and realize a lot of things.

So I guess I'll see you around then?

You Need to See this

2011-09-18T01:05:00.002+08:00

If you've been reading my dragging posts long enough, then you've probably figured out that I'm a hopeless romantic who, despite all my failed relationships and unfortunate dating history, still secretly believes that there's someone out there for me. Someone that fits who I am. Like a glove. Maybe that person has already come, but that's another story.

The point of this entry, actually, is to share this trailer I came across. If you can't view it here, go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RUU_WzRBHX4 instead. (Hehe, sorry, too lazy to make a proper hyperlink)

Just this week, I decided to terminate a friendship with a close friend in law school. He's one of the few gay people I'm comfortable enough to share my personal secrets with. And what do I get? One lazy evening, while we were talking in jest, he told me that I'm much gayer than he is, that I've had much more relationships than he has, and other qualities I was honestly surprised he even considered.

There are at least two lessons that I can cull from this. One, that his tendency to be condescending and patronizing, which I thought was perfectly fine with me, has taken its toll on me. For someone with so many insecurities, he certainly has a way of dealing with and judging people the odd (for lack of a better of word) way. Second, maybe I don't understand the dynamics of gay relations at all. In any other gay relationship, it might have been a perfectly acceptable mode of conduct. I actually think the latter holds more water, but that doesn't make me any more comfortable with how attacked I felt.

Don't get me wrong; the termination of friendship is not as dramatic as it may sound. I guess I just disappeared from his affairs--an act which I am apparently pretty good at.

Other than the constant threat of failure in law school hovering around my head, nothing really remarkable has been happening in my life lately. I guess you could call my day-to-day life as boring. The happy kind of boring :)

:)

2011-09-04T10:16:00.001+08:00

For the first time in my life I have this amazing sense of purpose and clarity. A purpose totally unrelated to matters of the heart. A purpose identified three months after a tough break-up (at least on my part), countless flings with boys (none of which were men), and an Insurance midterm exam that I almost passed.

I finally know what I really want with my life. No, I don’t want to be that person who gives myself away far too easily and settles for anything less. I finally decided to stop pegging myself worth with what other people think of me, or with the presence of another half.

I’ve been making changes. I’m trying to be a more productive worker. I’ve also been trying to study a lot harder. Following a year of decent performance in law school, my second year has so far been unremarkable, if not disappointing. Backlogs, unremarkable recits, coming to class unprepared, settling for case digests…that’s not why I’m supposed to be here for, is it? I used to genuinely love learning and understanding, but somewhere along the way, it all stopped making sense. I’ll be betternow :P

On Teaching

Before the sem started, I planned on being an evening law student. I had my eyes on a teaching position in the university. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a vacancy before the sem started. But I just got a message, asking me if I’m interested in the teaching position for the subjects I’d love to teach.

While on one hand, I want to finish my studies and finally start the rest of my life as a lawyer, teaching has always been a secret passion of sorts. Ah, well, I still have a couple of weeks to think about it.

On Newfound Interests

What’s an interesting hobby to take up? I would love to try working out, but I get tired so easily. (Random trivia: I can fall asleep anywhere. In fact, I’ve pretty much slept everywhere—and yes, that includes right smack in front of my professors.) Gold’s Gym will be opening in Katipunan, that could be a fresh start. But honestly, what’s stopping me is all the stories of men going to the gym and hooking up.

Which reminds me... I've always wanted to try cooking! Sadly I know zilch about cooking.

So I think I’ll settle for table tennis for now. And because I’m feeling a little dangerous (and because I think it's finally time to put a face to the name), let me post a snapshot of me hahaha.

On Downsizing

So yeah, the worst has come and passed. After my little misadventure, a friend or two actually had the guts to ask me what the hell happened at the party. I was so flustered, mainly because I didn’t know how to deal with issues like that. I’m pretty much low profile. I can sense that they’re (they being my friends) treading very lightly—they’re not sure what’s the proper approach. So I resolved to just forget that night, as if nothing happened. I never met the guy. I never jumped into his car. Saturday never happened. Sometimes, forgetting is a lot easier than dealing.

The point, I guess, is that I should stop trying to expand my world. I have friends, and they're hell of the best. While I should always try new things and experiences, that doesn't mean I should make a deliberate effort to change who I am. This is who I am, funny to some, boring to most. And the great thing? This is the me I'm starting to finally love.

A Footnote Story

2011-08-29T15:10:00.001+08:00

Here's the thing. I don't party. The only time I went to a bar to drink and party and get wasted (in theory) was back in college--and that's because the party was organized by an organization of which I'm an officer.

Okay. Now there was this party in law school, and I was practically compelled to attend. To cut the long story short, I danced, drank, and met a guy. This guy flirted with me and danced with me. I can't say I was totally comfortable with it, considering that my blockmates were there and I didn't really know how to respond to situations like that.

Anyway, he asked for my number. We texted as we were beside each other. He drove me home. We kissed. And we stopped short of doing it. I insisted on not doing it, and he relented. The next day, we talked through text, with wide intervals in between. And that was it.

I asked him about last night, to the effect that: "I don't know if it's a clubbing thing, but last night was purely just for fun, right? We're friends, yeah?" Because I was really that confused. Is that how one-night stands (in this case, a half-baked one) work? 'Cause I only see it happen in movies. You're not supposed to text each other the day after, right? Because I was totally willing to stop.

And he affirmed. He said that he's really not looking for a relationship right now and that I'm a nice guy and all the things people say after an awkward and inappropriately intimate night together. Me? yeah, the last thing I want right now is a relationship. And I wouldn't want anything to get more awkward than it already is; what happened was weird enough already...I get it. He's not totally my type. We are very different (case in point: he asked me to puff a cigarette!! What the).

But. I can't say I totally understand myself. Why did I do it? Having explored another dimension of this apparently "wild" side of me, I can now say with certainty that it's not the life I want to live. Another boy gone past. Another lesson learned.

Midterms in Law School

2011-08-20T23:02:00.000+08:00

are quite over. This is by far one of my worst performances. I was out of focus most of the time, somebody I dated had been badgering me to get into a relationship with him, and I was just out of it. Law school, the entire of it.

Oh, I also received a text message. This friend of mine saw my recent ex and his new guy, whom he met and got together with less than a month after we broke up. Hah. They were apparently strolling around in the same university where I study.

Today I received news that a friend of mine thought that being friends with me could only go so far. I am, according to her, the type who would only open so much, who can only go so far for friendship. I don't exactly contest this... I'm not the happiest person. I have so many issues, so many insecurities. I can be quiet and reserved, and although I can really be funny when I want to (assuming that we're talking about the same level of humor), I would rather find error in things....

But I can be fun, too! History is fun, music is fun, movies are fun, reading is fun....especially when all these are done alone!

I guess something's really wrong with me then?

On Post-Breakup and the Perks of Living Alone

2011-07-20T01:15:00.001+08:00

My ex is an asshole, and I don't even think he understands why. He would call or text me up to tell me about his recent date, and how he has a "gut feeling" that this guy's the "one". I have no qualms about talking to him every now and then, but for the life of me I can't understand what he wants me to say. Congrats? Get a room? How about, you're a fucking moron?

While on one hand, there might be a tiny part of me that feels a slight pang of jealousy, I can't help but want to ask him: tanga ka ba? How on earth can you believe that you're meant to be with a person you've only met for a little less than a month??

I just hate people who act beyond leaps and bounds of logic! I would think that our failed relationship would at least teach him something about taking everything slow and the disadvantages of a long distance relationship...but to me it seems as if he grew backwards. I would think someone with decent scholastic records would be able to think within the confines of reason. But no.

That being said, I don't think he it's my problem any longer. If he wants to meet up with random "good-looking" people in some gay networking site, fine. I'm just not a fan of him calling me up to tell me the sordid details of his misadventures.

Anyway, maybe this is the point where I should be saying that I'm sort of seeing someone. Sort of. There isn't an official record or something of it just yet....

I've just been so busy. Lawyers, upperclassmen, and law professors who said that sophomore year would be the easiest....well, they were lying. I've had to double my efforts, memorize everything, but still, there's no guarantee that I'll slip through unscathed!

So yeah. I'm happy. I go to class, trying to prepare myself for all the cases and laws assigned. I join friends when they dine, whenever I want to. At night I go home, and either work or study. Sometimes I do the latter in coffee shops or the library. I'm as normal as a normal law student can be.

Don't get me wrong. There are random wtf moments when I would just dig a deep hole in a matter of seconds, and feel really depressed. Like a few moments ago. Why do I feel as if I'm the one who was left in the dark? Why do I want to take revenge? You know, the usual thoughts that pass through the broken-hearted.

Through it all, I know that I'll rise from this. I trust myself enough to know that I'll see myself through this. A little bird told me all I needed was time :)

The Real Comeback Entry

2011-07-04T20:14:00.001+08:00

I've been trying to blog again, promise! But if you think I'm not writing enough, I'd be the first person to tell you that it's not because of the depression or anger, two apparent themes in my previous entry.

It's about time to revisit to the main purpose why this blog was set up in the first place: law school. I remember how much of a struggle it was to me--living away from my family, plunged into a strange and foreign environment, forced to mature beyond my years.. Okay. Maybe I'm not mature enough just yet.

All factors and circumstances considered, I must say: what I underwent in the past year seriously changed a lot in me. I don't even think I should spell out what those changes are--res ipsa loquitur.

Second year into law school and here I am. Practically living all by myself and still struggling to make the dream come true. Some efforts of mine have paid off--I landed somewhere up there last year. But this, for sure, is never a guarantee of what will happen this coming year. I simply have to try harder under harder circumstances.

In fine, what I mean is that I'm in a generally better place. I may have lost love, but I realize: waiting for the person I can watch movies and television series with, be quiet with as we read books all night, and talk to about everything should be worth the wait. That's what I'm after. No more of the teenage rush that's sure to last for no more than a few lingering moments.

Now, back to my cases.

A Breakup Story

2011-06-27T19:00:00.003+08:00

I'm in a dark room as I type this, mulling over the right things to say, roughly five months after I decided to end this blog on my own terms. I ended this blog, the same way I ended all my other relationships--upon my discretion, whenever I stopped having fun. I was always the one who called the shots. The guy who always got what he wanted.

I have been planning to write for a long time now, but I had my reservations. What would I write? How could I put the pain to intelligible words, if I could put it to words at all? How could I simulate the heavy, empty feeling of losing someone that meant so much to me? Would I choke back tears as I talked about the anguish and hopelessness?

To answer the last question, I didn't choke back the tears--because there weren't any to begin with. What was left after a seemingly decent closure (a word I am trying to reconcile my thoughts with, because it's a contradiction in itself; what's to close when both parties are no longer open to the possibility of real reconciliation, which in essence means getting back together?) is a curious feeling, betrayal, some sort of anger.... in me, at least.

But I guess, in some way, that's how I always felt. Betrayal, whenever he wouldn't keep a promise he thought I forgot. Sadness, whenever something happened that confirmed my suspicions. Anger, when I saw myself in him--the worst part of me, that is.

All the good and optimistic promises of love... I might've lost it much earlier than he did. I possibly lost it the moment I flirted with another guy for the first time, and the second, then the third...followed by a series of men, the memory of whom is already a murky vision in my head. I was merely holding on way before he pulled the plug. Much earlier than when he said that he'd fallen out. Was I still in love when I read all the conversations he had had with other guys? Or was it pride that drove me through the roof?

In the small cozy restaurant where we talked, as I looked at him with a significant amount of loathing, I can't help but wonder in retrospect: was I still in love with him then? Because all I can remember was wanting to punch him in the face, get the entire fiasco done and over with, send him off to the fuck hole where he came from.

Love is the primary controlling factor in every relationship, right? If it is, then I would say with certainty: I did love him. It was an interesting mix of shame and romance, and we both couldn't handle it. Could we? Even if we tried a bit harder? I guess not.

They say a break-up is never mutual, and it always ends up with one person feeling like complete crap. I'm owning up to that role, to the satisfaction of all the others I've broken up with on my own terms. Here I am, finally the person who was abandoned, not the person who left.

This is what I've been reduced to. Alone in a dark apartment room. Trying to make sense of what happened days before I'm writing this. For the very few people who know, and have asked, I am simply at a loss for words. What will I say? How do I explain the downfall of a relationship I seemed so sure of? Do I cry and grieve in public, like in the movies? Do I reply to his messages, allow him to leech off my emotional residue?

There were many questions--there still are, actually. But for now, I'm going to satisfy myself with a definite answer to a question I've been trying to shove aside these past few days: are we over?

Decidedly so.

Standstill

2011-02-23T18:39:00.002+08:00

Is this what you call a standstill?

I have so much to do: read all my backlog cases for Obligations and Contracts, a weekend away from the make-or-break exam; finish all the articles I'm supposed to do; work on a reviewer; and, pull a group together for a class presentation.

And, with all these under my belt, what exactly have I accomplished?

Nothing.

I'd finish all of these if I started working now, keep moving forward like I always used to, but I can't. What I inconveniently have instead are the following: a sad, splitting headache and growing insecurity--both of which I've never had in this degree before.

I have been opening my ideas and emotions less and less to people, and the only ones who are there for me...well, I can't even point out where the problem begins myself, much less point it out to them. I suppose I do have a penchant for being irrationally emotional at the most random moments.

Or am I? Are these emotions really that baseless? Am I wanted enough? Am I doing the right thing? Am I cut out for this? Do I quit? And no, I'm not just referring to one idea.

In one way or another, it's sad. My acads is the only thing I have going for me, and I'm so close to botching it up. I have to get out of this stressful pattern, really. These are one of the times when I just want to be as upfront and open about my emotions as other people are. These are one of the times when I wish I would stop being so freaking uptight.

And because I know I can't for the simple reason that I don't know how I can be, the only truth I can come up with right now is: I am on a standstill, and I must get out.

PS. This blog has gotten me through the worst times, and I think it's cool how I was able to sustain something for more than almost eight months. But it has served its purpose and is beginning to be more trouble than it's worth. One of these days I'll shut down this blog: it's a question of when, not if.