A Childhood Love Affair

Let me tell you something about the boy who (sort of) almost became my first boyfriend, from here on I’ll call him “J.”

We were in fourth grade (Yes, we were young then and welcome to the world of “puppy love”), J and I. At that time, he was on his way on becoming the most popular in our batch and in our school because 1. He is handsome, and 2. He is very smart. I think everyone in our school had a “crush” on him, including myself.

So I can no longer remember what happened and how it happened. But here’s what I remember: I remember talking to him over the phone everyday for two weeks (that’s how long (I assume) he courted me, and no, he did not become my boyfriend). I remember my mother knowing about the “thing” (if there was even one) that was going on between us. I remember regretting not being able to call him my “ex” when he moved on to another girl. I remember that I constantly bought chocolates (Hershey’s Cookies n Cream) from him (5php per bar, remember J?) whenever he has “stocks.”

On fifth grade, J, I think, was no longer interested in me. I remember that he and some boys would tease me about my wanna-be-nickname “Ali.“ I remember that there’s something in me that he doesn’t like and therefore forget that only a school year ago, he wanted me. BUT. I remember that J and I, with some friends, would stay in our classroom during lunch/break time even though that was strictly prohibited. We would just hang around and do stuff. But there was one day when he stole a kiss on the cheek from me. I remember that clearly. How could I not remember that the handsome popular boy kissed me on my actual cheek?

He’s always been so charming, that boy. I remember when we were in kindergarten that my first gift from “exchanging of gifts” came from him. It was a Kero Kero Keroppi stuffed toy. I’ve had that for years. I think it was only recently that my mother got rid of it. Anyway, J, please don’t find it creepy that I remember these things. And keep it mind that as I’m writing this, I’m recalling years of memory so I hope I got them all right. (NOT THAT I’M SURE THAT YOU’LL SPEND TIME READING THIS RATHER BORING ENTRY).

In high school, J became the popular boy I always thought he’d be. He became distant though. I think being popular needs the co-requisite of being a total dick and smug (I’m sorry for this, J). I was honestly intimidated by him. How could this beautiful creature who used to like me when we were kids turned out to be rather snob and unfriendly. We sort of stayed as just batch mates. I could not make myself consider that he was one of my “friends.” To me, he was the boy who used to court me. He was the boy who used to like me. He was the boy I dreamed of becoming my boyfriend when we reached high school. But like Augustus Waters said, the world is not a wish-granting factory.

Moving on.

J and I went to different college, so basically, I no longer have any contact with him and I have no chance of seeing him grow up into a young man (OR SO I THOUGHT).

Dun-dun-dun. I was a member of a dance group at our college. To my surprise and what with the odds not being in my favor, one of my co-dancers was J’s girlfriend (what the fuck, right?) I had the chance to hang out with both of them when our batch mate and friend from high school “L” celebrated her birthday (when I was in my freshman year in college). I felt shy and once again, intimidated. I could not look at him without remembering the sweet boy who used to like me (I know I keep on saying this, sorry!). Anyway, they broke up eventually.

During my 3^rd year in college, I had the chance of accidentally meeting him and some of our batch mates in high school. I think that was my last account of seeing him, around 2-3 years ago. (AGAIN, OR SO I THOUGHT).

After a number of consecutive paragraphs of not making sense at all, let me tell you why I am writing about him. J, apparently, made a habit of visiting me via appearing in my dreams. I may no longer see him in person but damn, that boy showed up and is showing up in my dreams so many times that I’ve lost count. He just always breezes in, you know? Since last year, he kept on popping in and out of my dreams every fucking night to the point that I got really bothered and kept telling myself that maybe I have to check on him, just to know if he’s all right. In my dreams, he was always sad, always hurting.

I remember dreaming about him for a week. He was pain. I didn’t know how to help him in my dreams. I didn’t know what was going on and I wanted to. I’m a firm believer that some dreams have meanings. So I did what our generation do best, look him up on FaceBook. Fortunately, he was my friend (thanks to my mother who created my FaceBook account and added people I both know and don’t know personally). Apparently, J and his long time girlfriend broke up (at least that’s what I noticed on his wall and posts). Since then, I gathered up the nerve and guts to reach out to him. To tell him that he’s appearing in my dreams, and that I’m bothered and partly concerned, and that if there’s anything I can do, we can pretend that we’re friends and I’ll help him the best way that I can.

For almost half a year, I tried to talk to him (via FaceBook message). But I can’t, mostly because I am shy. I don’t want to be the creepy-girl-from-elementary-that-couldn’t-move-on-because-her-first-crush-courted-her-but-stopped-pursuing-her-after-two-weeks-and-is-now-dreaming-about-him. But last March though, he’s been CONSISTENTLY showing up in my dreams. And by consistently, I mean: EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY. So when our friend “L” went to our house, I was able to get J’s number. After a few days, I sent him a text message telling him about what I’ve been experiencing. And the rest was history.

After months of agony of not knowing how he’s doing and why he’s appearing in my dreams, it felt good that I was able to exchange text message with him. It felt even better when he said that everything’s fine now. I am thankful that he didn’t find me creepy (at least I think so).

I always thought that maybe after I have talked to him, that he would stop showing up sad and hurt in my dreams. But I was wrong. Days after we texted each other, he popped in my dreams again. This time, there’s something his mother told him that really hurt him. That night, I saw J cry in my dreams. Like really cry. It’s so frustrating I can’t fathom. So I sent him a text message once again, but I didn’t receive any reply. Which resulted to this entry. I sent J a link so he could read this. I hope he reads this.

Here’s my letter to you, J.

I don’t know what’s going on with your life. I honestly don’t know you anymore. But I know the boy I liked when I was younger. He was strong. And that’s what I hope you to be. Be strong, J. Whatever’s going on in your life, I promise you, it will pass. Everything passes by. You just have to hang on and put your best game face on. I don’t think you saved my number. But if you find the need to talk to someone who doesn’t know you at all but aren’t exactly a stranger, I am here. I will be here. Please just talk to me instead of constantly showing up in my dreams (I know you can’t do something about that though). I wish you well.  I wish we were friends. Then maybe it’ll be easier for you. Then maybe you won’t have to go through what you’re going through alone (but I’m pretty sure you have great friends of your own). I always admired you, J. And you know what, I do regret not being one of your ex’s even if we were younger back then. I think I have to admit, I still admire you. I wish you’d find the goodness in you that I always knew and saw when we were in elementary. God bless you, J. Again, be strong.

Here, Ronalyn.

What’s My Age Again?

Dear Self, Happy birthday! PS. Take a break and relax. Cheers! Love, Self.

Cool Breezes

I would speak to you of cool breezes.

You may or may not wish to listen to me, since I am 43 years old and have never. Sex, kiss, date, cuddle, whatever a human might want from another human, slap a ‘never’ on it and that is me. Taking my advice might not be a great idea. But I have learned some things.

Sometimes on a warm day, a cool breeze will come along. It just happens. Or it doesn’t happen. There is no schedule for it, no specific reason, nothing I can do to cause it. It feels awfully nice when it does happen. I don’t deserve it, or not deserve it. I can’t earn it.

All I can do is be out there doing whatever I am doing, and enjoy it when it comes along. That is not to suggest you should be passive, not at all. Exactly the opposite. But you should allow life to happen.

You want to stop feeling. You can do that. I did. It can be done. But there is no way–none, zero, no way at all ever–to stop feeling the bad parts without also stopping feeling the good. You do not get to choose that, it cannot be done. If you numb the bad, you numb the glorious.

Have you ever met a girl you thought was pretty nice, but you just didn’t feel that way about her? I don’t think you can just decide to love her, whoever she was. You could decide to think of her as charitably as you can but you can’t feel what you don’t feel. And neither can they. Love is a cool breeze. You can’t decide whether to feel it, all you can do is decide what to do about it if you do feel it.

You know you will probably never find someone for you. Tempting, isn’t it? To have that final answer, to stop enduring the misery of hope. You are sure. It is nice to be sure. It is nice to have that out of the way and not have to wonder and hope, dream and want, need and yearn. Yearn! What a word. But there it is.
Yearning. Sounds like a goddamn sonnet but that is the word for it.

You don’t know a goddamn thing. I am sorry, but the bad news is you probably will find someone. You can try being as repulsive as possible and some girl might like you anyhow, people are crazy like that. Stop trying to be sure, and learn to endure uncertainty. Being sure is like riding a flat rollercoaster. Whee.

The bad news is you have hope. Hope’s the rope that keeps you tied in knots–the torture never stops. Even when you find her, and she likes you and she can’t help it and she gets all silly and wants to have your babies and everything, you will still have to hope. It never ever ends. You will hope every day she still loves you. You will hope she isn’t bored with you. You will hope the tests come back negative. You will hope she forgives you. It never, ever ends. Well, until you are dead, and there is time enough for that later I assure you.

There is no solution to hope and uncertainty. All you can do is be who you are and hope like hell. You are not a strategy, you are not an attempt. You are you, and now let’s see what happens.

I still hope. And I will never stop. Failure has no meaning, as I am not attempting to succeed. I am that I am. Who I am does not depend on circumstance or events. I hope, I want, I dream. No matter what, I damn well hope. If I fall from the 87th floor of a building I will hope on the way down. I am hurt, I am disappointed, I am ashamed and miserable and alone. But I will never give up hope. That pain is mine, and I welcome it. I yearn.

I wish you many cool breezes.

Divayth_fyr, Reddit

Another Attempt

I have been making excuses for myself on why I don’t write that much anymore, at least not often as I did years ago. But now that I have the “gadgets” that I need in order to maintain this blog, I could say that from now on, I would try as hard as I can to make this space last.

Here’s To Changes

Wow. The first months of 2012 are a whirlwind. Everything’s just so… overwhelming.

CAREER

Around December last year, I had a job interview with one of the leading photography magazines in the country. I was applying for the Artist and Writer position. I really like the environment in their office. And at one moment, I really saw myself being supervised by their boss (EIC). On the final interview though, we discussed about the compensation and found out that it wouldn’t be enough since I’m already a mom and PJ’s current job isn’t really reliable. Even though I know that I’ll learn a lot from their office, I opted not to transfer due to financial reasons. It was one of the most difficult decisions I made in my life. I actually cried over it because I really wanted to work there. But what I want isn’t exactly the only thing that I should consider when it comes to decision making. Anyhow, shake the dust.

I kept applying for jobs I find interesting and beneficial in all aspects. I’m BEYOND pressured that it’s almost March because it’s Sean’s first birthday + baptismal and yet, I haven’t saved any money. I had an interview with a telecommunications company and a call center company (something I never imagined I would do). I was ready to transfer there actually. And I already signed a contract. But after a few days, when I told my current boss about my situation, he counter-offered me with another job and/or promotion (with the same compensation with the call center company). After the grueling days of thinking it over and weighing the options, I chose to stay here. I just hope and pray that I made the right decision. After all, it’s for Sean.

HEALTH

Two years ago, I was diagnosed with an illness that most doctors quote as “deadly but curable.” It’s the main reason why I had a sudden weight loss, why I appear sickly and stressed all the time, and why I wasn’t allowed to breastfeed Sean. I refused to tell my condition to almost everyone around me. The only people who knew about this are my family and a few friends (who, thankfully, didn’t become distant after I told them the truth). I went under a costly treatment for 6 months. The medicines somehow sucked the life inside of me.

During my pre-employment medical exam on the call center company, the doctors found out about the dense lines on my left apex (lungs) aka fibrosis. At first, I panicked. The crying hard and trembling kind of panic because I thought my condition got worse. And that it might be the reason why I won’t get employed that company. As it turns out, my pulmonologist said that those dense lines are just marks proving that I have recovered. And that I am free from that disease. And that my lungs are clear. You can only imagine how happy I was at that moment.

The year’s still young. A part of me is scared because life’s been a friend to me lately; I’m kind of worried that the wheels might turn against me soon. But then again, after everything life put me through last year, maybe, just maybe, the tides have turned on my side this time.

Jezuz, I need a drink. Get me drunk.