the (wo)man who saved the world

i can't recall the number of times i feigned sickness just so i won't be dragged out of bed by my sister, who was always so eager to ride the 8am bus to batangas. i have spent half of my life in manila. my "independence" was not forced. it was a necessity back then when my mom made it clear (15 years ago) she'd do anything to give us the kind of quality education only the schools in manila can offer (a lot of people still think that manila is the best place to earn yourself a decent degree).

law school came and it gave me another veritable excuse not to go home. i don't know why, but the idea of going back to the place i grew up in irked the hell out of me. i was evading my dad's wake up calls and mom's doting presence. the only thing i looked forward to was dad's cooking. so i'd agree to come home only to indulge in 2 of life's guilty pleasures: inihaw na liempo and bulanglang.

then the time came when i had to come home and leave manila--for good.

i have been here (in batangas) for almost 4 months now, but 1 whole, solid day with my parents was all it took to stir my senses and tame the gravity that has kept my faculties up and away from the idea of sleeping in my distressed yellow room--to actually stay and to experience more than just a fleeting moment of nostalgia with the help of my old books and photos.

i was so ashamed of myself for coercing my sister to hold the cudgels for me while i bathed in manila air the whole time. i may have spent my years wisely on education, but i never thought i'd be just as naive and self-centered as a day old baby! (nag-aral pa ako sa lagay na yan ha).

each day with my parents is bliss; each day, a blessing. i realized, each day that i was away from them was a struggle. my stay here has allowed me to discover the things that i took for granted before. the mother-daughter bonding, cooking lessons with dad, and the familiar bashings i get from both of them for waking up late. even my dad's daily dose of hurtful words and scoldings are now music to my ears!

during one of our late night chikahans, my mom shared one heart-breaking routine of hers: she'd wait outside of our house (and stay there for hours--until she sees an aircon bus infront of our gate) the minute she gets off the phone with ate len telling her "ma, we're on our way home."

this goes out to all of you who think independence means forgetting the "better (if not the best) part" of oneself and leaving it all behind to seek for greener pasture--the very part of you that has turned your parents into insomniacs overnight.

it's time to collect your thoughts and pin them onto corkboards so you won't forget that when you left for school, you left behind two persons who'd put their lives on the line for you just so you can find your self-worth in a place that can make or break you...and that two people were willing enough to sacrifice spending the days with you just so you won't catch them in the act of rummaging through the crevices of their wallets just to give you your week's allowance.

i have only ate len to thank for rousing me out of deep slumber and for teaching me that each day spent away from my mom and dad may mean sorrow, but one that we no longer have to endure from now on.

shrink to fit

i have watched a lot of movies. but so far, none has actually left that big mark on my skin. to date, only 2 films were successful enough to have left a microscopic mark on my thinking head that has already healed over time with the help of a balm.

then "the women" came.

my ate mashie uploaded it to my ipod 2 nights ago, and i just wiped the last tear away an hour after watching it. yes, it was that good and heart wrenching. it wasn't a sob movie at all. it was more like de javu popping like seeds in the microwave. i highy recommend it to my readers (i'm assuming i have more than 1 blog follower).

i'd be telling a little about the movie, so in case you haven't seen it, sorry to spoil your evening meteor shower :)

when a guy cheats on you, you'd either swear not to have anything to do with him again OR (this one's usually the case) you'd give him another chance and forgive him. until he does it again, and again and again (and again).

when does the hurting truly stop? most women would rethink their lives and change the way they dress, the way they treat their men, and the way they talk even! it's like men's evil design to conquer women's world in one freaking cheating minute, so they'd end up getting a shortlived slap on the wrist and yes, go home smiling. believe me, this ain't the worst yet.

it keeps on coming like a train en route far far away land. if you give him another chance, he'd think you a saint and pray he'd never make the same mistake again. but he does, and he does it over like you're a loaf on a shelf that needs heating before it can be served.

until you realize, you're not the same woman he met years ago. you've changed into something more monstrous than the girl he spent 5 minutes with over the extra mobile phone he kept under his sleeve just to say "wait up for me, i'm gonna call you as soon as i get out of here."

once in your life, a man comes. in style, he'd sweep you off your feet and in timid words, he'd cut your love story short by asking you how you feel about him. of course you'd say you love him back. and that's how bitter endings begin.

love is something you can't prepare yourself enough for. love is wanting the things your girfriends want for you: a happy life, a loyal atmosphere that may sometimes be filled with weariness, but then that's where he makes a great effort to replace apathy with rejoices and white roses. that's not enough, though. it is never enough.

i have been thought of as insane one december when cris lost it and made a big mistake, and i "forgave" him. i transformed into this haughty creature, even my niece didn't recognize me at first glance. but i changed back. i missed my old self. that's when cris fell in love with me all over again (not that i believed him that time when he said this). something's got to give.

i "missed" my old self. m-i-s-s-e-d meaning, not only that lingering feeling long after your bf's gone after spending hours at the mall strolling hand in hand--both of you flat broke. m-i-s-s-e-d meaning, using that "good" part of your time for self-love and self-improvement. i used mine a few minutes late, but the old saying (better late than never) doesn't work well with the way i chose to live my life. my stubborn nature allows me to procrastinate even when it comes to my love life.

cris may have been unfair to me at one point, but who hasn't? you'd be surprised at how forgiving a heart can get--it's mind-blowing. the one thing you actually have control over--one where you can decisively put heavy reigns on, is being fair to yourself. if "being fair to oneself 101" didn't appeal to many, why would garfield even bother to get a copy? but he did.

but don't go patronizing yourself for giving up who you used to be (before your guy cheated on you). instead, do a once-over and put your old shirts back on. then move forward and tell your man "i'm happy the way i am, so if you want another chance, don't make me crop the crown off on top of my head to fit the borders of your screen or make me take my shirt off and leave it in the dryer to shrink to your taste."

:)

are you happy just conforming?

wouldn't it be swell knowing that you have lived your life the way you're not supposed to?

i don't mean infusing the bad stuff like drugs and alcohol into your system. God knows my undergraduate heart churns at the slightest glimpse of dried leaves, yearning to be covered, with unconventional ease, by silver foil and brown paper...it's more like cheating on destiny or deliberately hiding from the truth that people around you had set out for you to just take in and digest.

perhaps, you were born to be a drummer, but went on and lived a quiet life in the woods or in a seminary in some far off province even forrest gump dared not to set foot on to rediscover his accidental heroism. or maybe you were born into a charming family of farmers, but pursued a career in hockey or bowling, without a trace of regret for having left a vast tract of idle land in your own backyard. ho-hum.

i bet you were at your happiest while fulfilling dreams that are not yours to begin with.

there's nothing wrong with doing things that are expected of you. most of the time, you end up being just like your father (or mother)--a surgeon or a lawyer--maybe. exploring the life you have so gotten used to--the kind of life you were exposed to not out of choice, but out of nature. it's true, what they say...the leaf does not fall far from the tree.

but in the process, you may lose your identity, and if you're lucky, you might inherit your father's debts too. it's like enduring a power outage with a half-frozen, half-kilo beef inside your freezer--you're not sure if it's going to last the long night without smelling odd and in time for spaghetti-bonding the next day with your mom and your siblings, but you're sure that if you don't have that special "bonding" day, you'd feel restless and barren. which brings me to my next few questions: does living the life you are destined to live get to a point where you self-expire? does it have a shelf life?

until when is conforming conformable? until you realize you're just another walking cliche?

well, you wouldn't know if you don't try it, right? :)

alas, we'd all end up conforming, and behind every fufilled dream, there would always be this one tugging question stuck in your throat you might want to expel...before you actually throw up without meaning to.