To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die

¿Para qué vale la pena, valió la pena todo el tiempo.

It’s the Spanish translation of one of my favorite song lines ever.  It’s not new, that’s for sure, but for me, it was that memorable.

I don’t know why lately I’ve been quite melodramatic about how the state of the “Carla” is going.  There are just some realities that cut to close to the eye, and there’s no stopping it because it happening is just a matter-of-fact.

Take for example Dylan’s IELTS review.  He’s taking it in preparation for his overseas employment.  We’ve already talked about this; it is actually one of the more practical talks that we’ve had for a long time.  Upon completing the first year in his contract, he will start preparing all the necessary documentation and licenses needed for overseas employment.  We have targeted the UK for him, mainly because of the NHS and how they don’t choose who to cure (oh yes).  When he heard about the gravity of the taxes there, well, it’s an understatement to say that he was discouraged.

There’s something about that plan that breaks my heart; I am yet again going to be left behind.  Although I know the reasons (and they are really good reasons) for his departure, it doesn’t make my heartbreak any less bearable.

I told him to just bear the taxes.  I want him to actually help people.  The only instance that I felt that kick from him, that accomplished kick of being an ER nurse, was when they tried to save a 22-year-old guy with the younger brother waiting at the wings.  Whichever country he goes to, he and his immediate family will always have the same healthcare benefits.  What I want him to have is the liberty to care for anyone who needs it.  Without that, the only difference would be higher pay.

The guy didn’t make it.  And Dylan is once again confronted by man’s mortality.

Most of the time, I am thankful that his occupation often has brushes (actually, laps and laps and laps) with death.  He lives happier now, takes care of himself better, looks out for others more cautiously… and I believe I have to be thankful for what he does.  There are off days of course, but they no longer last as long as they used to.

There are far more things that trouble my mind, apart from Dylan’s impending departure.  I’m trying to be as pragmatic about everything as I can be, but then again, my melodramatic side can only change so much.

Okay, I’m skirting off to work now.  Toodles.

Rooting for inspiration

I told myself that today, I need to be inspired.  I wanted to be inspired because I have a lot riding on the next three months.  In three months, the program I have been working hard to stay in will be over.  Three months.  I’ve been here since August 2009, and in three months, I’m done.  I will be an officer and I will be assigned in a department where I can work my ass off without shame for the next 3 or 30 years.  Three months.  That’s all there is to it.  So I told myself, I need to be inspired.

Then, I started cleaning my room.  I’ve been renting a room here in Quezon City because it’s the closest place I can get and it’s one short ride to work.  I started cleaning and I found out, I have a pest.  I have a pest and it just made a corner of my room its home.  And today, I need to be inspired.  I need to tell myself that I am making this life better for me, where I am not dependent on anyone but myself.  My mad skills.  My rationale.  My intellect.  I need to be inspired just when I saw a corner of my rented space telling me that I am rotting away.

I am so tired.  I’ve been preserving everything.  From my family to my relationship with Dylan, everything hangs at a sensitive balance.  It’s so sensitive that I can’t have anything disrupt it.  But then again, there’s a pest in the corner of my rented room.  The cheap rented room, close to work, managed to gather more disgrace by harboring an unwanted neighbor.  Now, I have to call someone to get rid of the pest.  Another thick wad of money down the drain, another problem that needed solving, another thing that needed balancing.

There are days when I feel like I’m way in over my head, that I bit more than I can chew on this one.  I don’t think I’ve ever been this exhausted.  I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and just want to throw up.  I eat a full meal and after reading about credit standards and delegated authorized credit limits, I just want to hurl.  I don’t know if there’s any space left for me, for my sanity.  I don’t know if there’s any space left period.

Three months left, and all the late nights, all the paperwork, all the missed birthdays, all the missed family trips, all the arguments, they’re all on me.  And I just feel like hurling, like throwing up, so I can make space.  Throw up so I can at least get a bit of elbow room.  Throw up so I can get to the phone and get someone to get rid of that neighboring pest.

Everything has to be balanced.  Just three months left.  I just have to have everything balanced in the next three months.  After that, they can all fly up in the air and be in perfect chaos again.

Turn the weekend around

Friday wasn’t really a sparkling gem for me.  To make matters worse, I can’t seem to find my confidante.  I don’t know why he tends to be so bipolar, but sometimes, I can’t put up with it.  Or maybe, I just cannot handle intense emotion without having to punch the wall.  And when I don’t get to punch anything, I break out — pimples, tears, screaming fit, whichever applies.

Got to watch a movie with Adah today and it was a good change of pace.  I told myself it was a good distraction, because Dylan and I can’t seem to communicate well today.  To be frank, it was a really good distraction, and I find myself planning the next girly date.  But in the end, I am still bothered by the fact that I didn’t get to talk to him today.  I guess a part of me still tries to adjust to his schedule, including his moods.  He’s always in a foul mood when the weekend comes, because he has to work.  And I don’t have to work on a weekend.  So while my batteries are recharging, his are about to expire.  

Sometimes, I feel guilty for expecting too much from him, but I think that’s only because I give a lot.  Learning from John Lloyd and Sarah, I know that I am put in a wrong spot when I try to compare the intensity of my feelings for him with the intensity of his feelings for me.  Kelangan pantay lang, they say.  I have to accept his best without comparing it with mine.  But it’s hard to be in that position, to be that understanding and accepting.  In some places, they revere women for it (haha).  Then again, there’s really not much left to do.  To understand and to listen — two of the main functions of a partner.  I intend to be a partner, not just a girlfriend.

I know that he won’t talk to me properly.  Not tonight.  Not tonight at all.  If I’m not mistaken, today is just a resting off, meaning he got off at work around 9 in the morning, and will report for work tomorrow at 7 in the morning.  I know what I shouldn’t expect and yet, I check my phone every five minutes, hoping for a decent reply or a spark of a decent conversation.

Thank God for Coffee Bean.

And I am trying to get over some petty issues at work.  I didn’t think I’d be upset over something so minute, but I was.  Maybe it just took a toll on me.  Maybe the neglect and the apathy from someone I least expected just confirmed the notion that I might not be good enough to be there.  That I am not smart enough to gain the respect of my peers.  That I do not have the intellectual capacity to be taken seriously.

So I guess, that’s one of the reasons why I got upset, even if it was something as minor as coffee.  It just confirmed my assumptions.  And I hate knowing that much.  

I hope the more appealing weekend kicks off to a better week.  A much better week.  I really need a much better week.

Unusual learning medium

 Stress did not even lessen as the days passed.  I can’t even wrap my head around the idea that by the end of the week, I am educated in math, accounting and financial analysis.  I cannot even say "more educated" because I was not educated in the first place.  I thought one of the primary reasons why I took up liberal arts and broadcast journalism is because of it’s almost being completely devoid of math and arithmetics.  Then, I get here, the right place in my life right now, the right career path after a long three years, and I face the things I have come to fear the most.

It’s quite overwhelming; learning all these things is really taking a toll on me.  Then again, everything about this training program is taking a toll on me.  Most mornings, i wake up and stare in space, wondering how the hell did I get here.  Am I here because my parents wanted me to? Am I here because I have nowhere else to go?  Am I here because I am supposed to be here?  Sometimes, it’s still hard to imagine how hard I’ve pushed myself just to get an average grade.  I’ve never been average.  I can’t help feeling mediocre.  I can’t help feeling insecure.

The good part about this week is Patrick’s constant sharing with his current infatuation.  I don’t know if I should even label it as infatuation, since he seems to be seriously pursuing this one.  I like the fact that I have found a confidante in him; I like the fact that I too have become a keeper of his secrets.  The best part about his current flame?  It reminded me of mine.

I didn’t realize how much I’ve taken Dylan for granted until I heard Patrick talk about his flame.  The short calls, relishing the voice on the other line, can’t wait to text, can’t wait to reply and the unwipe-able smile across the face… it’s been a while since I’ve exhibited a minute level of enthusiasm when it comes to my partner of almost four years.  I refuse to believe that I have gotten weary when it comes to my relationship.  So, when the family went to do the grocery, I picked up this fantastic postcard off Carabao Island in Romblon.  It made me realize that this is the one thing we haven’t done:  go out of town.

I wish we can find the time to actually do it.  I don’t think there hasn’t been an opportunity for us to completely detach ourselves from life’s realities.  I don’t know when we can find the time to do so.  Whenever that may take place, I am sure that I only want to share that view with him.  I miss him.  I miss us.

Lately, he’s been spending more time with me.  I like it.  It means he’s more in control of his schedule.  It means he can cope with his schedule better.  It means I am getting better in time management.  It means we’re working on our relationship.  It means our relationship works.  And to actually say that out loud — and put it in print — makes me feel very good and hopeful of the future that is in store for us.

I love us.  I love us.

Finally, it’s over and done with.

January 8 was the last day of Module 300.  I had a hard time believing that I was the last person to present, but then again, I am the one with the meekest ability to hold my tongue.  These lessons and presentations are constantly testing my emotional quotient.  I can’t say I am enjoying it, but I can definitely feel the improvement.

My outfit for the day

The happy hour started around 8 when we arrived in the Training Center for the hats off party.


With Anj and her feather headband
With the NCR crew (L-R:  Neil, Jerome, Allan, Moi, Moksy with the fab fedora, Rayrand, Anj and Ranna)
Missing in picture:  Aldrich and Patrick

 

It was game night, and we competed with HR.  And we kicked their ass.  YES.
All in all, it was allllll good.  But the best part  was when they all decided to stick around and wait for my birthday (January 9).  I am so blessed to have made such good friends with these people.  I can never forget them.My birthday would have to be one of my longest days.  And quietest.  I enjoyed my alone time, and my time with my family.

It is always the simplest days that turn out to be one of the greatest.  Tonight, I will sleep with a full heart.I wish you the same.