Six Years, Eight Months

I was re-watching “Breaking Bad” for the Nth time (don’t judge me, it was a really good series) and I came across the heartbreaking scene where Jesse was crying to Walt about the death of his girlfriend.


The scene somehow resonated with me so much, mainly because I know what it felt like to love someone more than anything — and then lose that person. I could only imagine what Jesse may have gone through, but the scene is still so real to me, and so I counted — It’s been six years, eight months, and two days, give or take a few, because the days melted together that time and I honestly had no idea whether I was crying over dead weight on a Monday or a Wednesday morning.

It’s been six years, eight months, and two days.

And I still remember everything from that day — what I wore, what he wore, what he took, what I saw, how I felt.

So hey, you, I know you’re still alive there somewhere. You may have been too dead to the world on the day you destroyed the happy in me, but I remember how I almost made a deal with the devil if only to keep you alive. Some things you can forget. Some things you just can’t get over.

This is the latter.


Hello! :)

Things have been hectic.

I’ve been rethinking my life since summer, and I decided that I need a change in pace.

I needed to take chances.

I decided that the first thing I should do is to change my career. I did not particularly like my old job, but I loved the opportunities it gave me and I liked my immediate supervisor, which is why it was a bit difficult for me to leave. Yet, I followed through with applying for other companies and I landed a marketing job in the food and wine industry.

That being said, I spent a big part of the year job hunting, interviewing, getting my affairs in order as I turned over my old job to my replacement, and then adjusting to my new job, which is quite different, but one that I am loving so far.

I needed to let go. 

I didn’t know how much two people can change until I saw it for myself. There is nothing more scarring than seeing the person who meant the world to you for the first time since the last time.

Oh God, more times than I can count, I played in my head what to say to him the next time I see him, but when I finally did (for the first time in nearly four years) all I could do was give him the biggest hug I could muster as I congratulated him for finally making his dreams come true. I was so proud of what he achieved, but as the night went on, I realized that the person I loved was gone, and the person who sat next to me on that table was a stranger. And I bet he could say the same thing about me as well. ‘Lo and behold, I realized that night that the stranger that he has become is not someone I could even begin to consider ever being with. So that’s that. Finite.


I needed to do. 

My bucket list is filled with so many things for me to do, and I have checked them one by one, although I haven’t done as many as I wanted. But I am going on a trip in a few weeks — my first solo trip to another country, so it’s going to be an amazing experience.

Then there are other things, too. I started paying for a life insurance plan this year, which is such a big, adult step for me to take. I am also thinking of getting another health insurance or investing what little money I do have into a fund, but I am still looking into different companies to better evaluate my next step.

I needed to BE. 

Am I an extraordinary person? Not so much. But I am by no means ordinary, either — at least, as far as people around me believe. You cannot imagine how disappointing it has been when I found that people expected more from me than what I’ve shown the world so far. My family, my best friends, my former teachers all shared the same sentiment: I could do so much more.

So I’m trying be the person everyone else expects me to be. I’m trying to be the person I thought I will be. Aside from starting a new job, I am also co-spearheading the Cebu chapter of an organization that we hope we could launch in January. Then, my friends and I have been looking into doing a fundraiser for a friend’s mom, whose hospitalization and incurred medical costs are skyrocketing. Any suggestions for a fundraiser will be welcome (because we want to do as much as we can as fast as we can).

And this ends another random, narcissistic post from me to you.


Been Doing Yoga, BTW.

I have recently been doing yoga.

Yes, I’ve gone to a few sessions in the past. Yoga has always been some sort of “I really need a stretch” kind of thing for me. However, due to this “we need to get healthier” roll that my friends have going on, I have been focusing on something healthy, and that, for me, is Yoga. It started out pretty stressful, but soon, I started getting the kick out of it and I’m planning on maintaining the practice for as long as I can.

I think it’s because it is finally kicking me in the arse how tense and stressed I have been for the longest time. Yoga is supposed to be a form of meditation, but somehow when the Yogi says “relax your shoulders” I honestly didn’t know how to do it. Relaxing my shoulders while I’m in an excruciatingly weird pose just isn’t comfortable. I kept asking myself whether or not breaking my neck was an option.

Plus, the more the Yogi says “leave your thoughts behind” the more I worry about the lists in my planner: payment trackers, workload, schedules, you know, those random things.

However, over time, I’ve gotten better at the “relaxing” and “leave thoughts behind” part. I have even been writing less because lately, Yoga has been my way to cleanse my thoughts and relax. It works exactly only during the time in the week I’m in the studio, but considering how uptight and controlling I usually am, I am just glad I am able to let my thoughts go for a few moments and just concentrate on not falling off balance. I am not good with my balance in the first place, so even a Warrior III pose is a small victory for me.

Speaking of small victories:


Heartbreaking Nightmares

Today I fell down the rabbit hole. I haven’t been here in a long time, because see, for the most part, I thought I’m okay. Things happen, things end, things move on. That’s life, and I’ve long learned to accept that.

But the thing with burying something at the back of your mind does not guarantee that some random brain glitch will not dig it out while you’re asleep, and last night, that’s exactly what happened.



The circumstances that played out were barely logical. Even while I was inside that dream, I knew I was dreaming, and that nothing about it was real. The set-up, the conversation, the people in it — none of it would ever even remotely come together in real life. I could hear Lizzie McGuire playing in the background — the same series I was playing on my actual laptop in real-life because I never sleep with  no video on as a form of white noise. I was in a dream, I knew it, but the circumstances in that dream is an absolute nightmare that I really wish my brain did not go digging into.

But the thing is, even though I knew I was in a dream even as I was dreaming it — even though I knew that nothing like that even remotely happened, I still can’t get it out of my head and to confirm the dream state of it, I went down and fell into a rabbit hole that I avoided so much for the past three years.

I want so much to cry, but I told myself crying will not make it any less nightmarish or heartbreaking, and even if I can control what happens in my reality, I have no control over it in any way, shape, or form. I knew this much, and I want really to just be happy and accept what it was because it’s bound to happen sooner or later, but some things, especially those you wanted very badly for so long — some things will take a while to swallow.

I am not even coherent about what I’m ranting on and on here, and I wish I could explain without really explaining, but I can’t. Rabbit holes aside, I really kind of wish Gilderoy Lockhart is here to obliviate this one dream and one person from my mind.

And there, now you know what this is about.

Can I get my express train to Hogwarts now, please?

I feel melancholic these days

I know I haven’t written in a while…

Mostly because I feel melancholic. Not sad, just — I don’t know. I wish I’m not so far away from my best friends. I mean, yes, I love my Cebu friends, but there are some people, you know, who were with me during my most troubled times and I wish I can just poke them awake or go up to their rooms, or call them for breakfast or lunch or take them out for a long walk — those days were the ones when I felt most centered.

I am spinning.

I’m not sure what’s happening. I mean, salary aside (HA!) I am pretty content with my life. I like being able to do what I want, I like having time to explore other things. (I mean, this year, I already went to more yoga classes than I did in the last three years!)

But for most of the time, I feel melancholic and I just wish my best friends are here. A tirade of why I feel the world is on my shoulders just don’t make for good conversation when we’re all trying to find ways to get our life on track and when we’re all just trying to keep going.

I am in free fall.

Sometimes I just want to escape — things can’t be too bad in other patches of the same Earth, right? This isn’t my rock-bottom, it’s just that I am no longer emotionally charged. I am too tired to care about everything else. I want to jump to free fall and feel my body crash in the ocean. That would be exhilarating if I were’t so scared of heights.


Or maybe I’ve been watching too much Grey’s Anatomy.

Too much dark and twisty there.