An open letter to B

Dear B,

It's not fair. Fourteen days apart would've been a breeze. But I keep seeing so much of your family-- or rather, your whole family keeps seeing me, that I am reminded everyday why I'm with them instead of you.

Today, for example, is the third day I had lunch with your mom. She comes to the office to bring me food and this morning, she asked Dick to sweep and mop the floor too. It's all thanks to her that I'm eating well and I appreciate the company. But she's starting to feel like a human bundy clock, to be honest.

Meanwhile, your brother Russ hung out with me again today. It's the second time he's came over straight from school. He's doing a good job with the Photoshop assignment I gave him, but in spite of that I wish he'd go home instead. Making him work instead of letting him do what he wants with his time seems like detention. This afternoon, I asked him to skim through folders and folders of off-roading photos while I went to work in another computer. I could see his head moving sideways repeatedly from the corner of my eye, and I assumed he was visualizing some digital manipulation. After a while I realized he was nodding off to sleep in his chair, one hand still on the mouse. I wanted to send him home, but your dad was coming by to have dinner with us.

So, finally, today is the first time your dad saw the office when he came to pick us up. You're in trouble, by the way, for plugging the peephole and not thinking of installing a chain lock. We had dinner at Chili's, just the three of us.

I am so part of the family, aren't I? It was unnerving at first. I mean lunch with your mom? Just the two of us? After a while I got used to it, and I've stopped being shy. I can even make inquiries now and real comments like I have my fookien under my belt. Either my Chinese is better or your parents are kind enough to ignore my slip ups. I figured if your family sees me as a member, I might as well ride it feeling sincerely like family.

However, when your mom invited me to watch Transformers 2 this Friday with your other brother, Richard, and his family, I had to decline. Eating with them is one thing, going to the cinema is another. Can't they see? Every second with them is a second without you. I might feel so bad I wouldn't understand the movie anyway.

Did you tell them to do all this while you're gone? To make me miss you more? You're terrible.

Surly Mood

Here's a funny thing about emotion: one moment we're all over somebody, and the next we're fed up with them. 

My friend Koi shared with me what she thought was a wise piece of advice given to her by a friend. She said, "It's not their fault for not meeting us earlier in their lives." It's another way of saying put the past behind to move forward blah. Well here's the thing with history: it tends to repeat itself.

Who am I to blame then, dammit?

B-less

B left for Canada this afternoon. It's funny how you feel sad when you hear the news, say, 4 months early, and then you get used to the idea. In the lull period, the departure becomes this large thing looming ahead that you're not supposed to think about until you're there. Then you grow sick of it looming that you just can't wait to get it over and done with. On the day of the actual separation, you've prepared yourself so well that you think, really, what's two weeks? You're all dandy and your day goes normally. Until you stop moving and thinking. That's when you fall apart. Funny.

Loss

I miss him suddenly and all at once that I feel bad for all those times I provoked him into a fight because of some petty thing. It makes me regret the times I acted bratty or distant just because. I haven't missed him this way before because we'd never been apart enough to hurt. When we fought, he made things alright before we had the chance go for days without speaking. He always reached out to resolve things so that we'd be ok again right away. I'm not saying I always started the fight because I was unreasonable. He's not perfect. I'm just saying if I wasn't unreasonable when I was, we'd have a bunch more ok hours to stave us through long distance episodes like this.

What was I thinking? 14 days is a very long time. It feels like forever since I last heard from him, and his plane hasn't even landed yet. I know we can email and chat over YM, but being limited by time zone is a bitch.

Parting

For months and even on the last day we would see each other, I pictured a dramatic parting scenario: we'd be somewhere private, each would take turns making speeches about how much we'd miss each other, and the whole thing would involve silence, tears, and holding each other for a long time. As it happened, we had to do it in front of my apartment door, so we were at the stairwell being very quiet, whispering our goodbyes in deference to my neighbors. The business of a final embrace was carried out briefly and cautiously in case somebody was watching. Our last hug was tight, and before my feelings could catch up with me, I went inside. 

Before I closed the door, the last thing I saw was of him waving and mouthing "Goodnight."  I thought it was beautiful.

Kindred spirit

I have been reading Jessica Zafra's latest compilation, Twisted Travels. Reading travel books is dangerous. It inconveniently effects a sense of urgency to go somewhere right away.

The compilation are her travels from way back late 1990s until early 2000. In some stories, she made references to her singlehood, so, 8 years later, I wonder what her present age is and if she's hooked up yet. I couldn't help noticing that we have a lot in common, such as the following:

1. We both like cats.
2. We both have an aversion to small children.
3. She's a tennis fan, I'm a frustrated tennis player, which I'm guessing is what she is thereby becoming a fan.
4. We're both film junkies. One day I swear I'm going to those bigshot film festivals where I'd have to wear a gown to watch nude people onscreen.
5. Well, we like to travel. We are most ourselves when we're outside of our natural environment.

Wait a minute... Oh, hey! I know at least half a dozen people with the same characteristics, both fictional and real. How predictable are strong-willed women??

I always thought I'd be single for a long time, and I mean way longer than I'd like to be. My standards were so high that nobody I knew came close to eligibility as far as I'm concerned. I always knew the person I would marry would be wearing glasses, would be strict and paternal, but loose and open-minded where it mattered. I took it forgranted that he is somewhere out there, but I never fantasized about how I would fall in love, just how much I would be loved. I'm immature like that.

My biggest fear is marrying somebody who doesn't love me. I mean love in that sweeping, can't-breathe-without-you, wanna-fill-planet-with-our-spawn, will-make-love-to-you-despite-wrinkly-ass-and-sagging-boobs kind of way. A supposedly psychic once foretold that I'm gonna be with someone who doesn't truly love me, but I will marry somebody who does. I should've asked her if the guy would be wearing glasses. Anyway, in the meantime, I thought I'd be living on my own with a cat, trotting the globe and romanticizing loneliness.

I guess one doesn't plan for that kind of lifestyle; one just wakes up and finds oneself there. Of the many loathesome cliches, the one I hate the most is: You can't have everything in life. It totally sucks. I prefer this one: When you're honest with yourself about what you really want in life, life ultimtely gives it to you.

Well Life, you know what I want. Everything. *wicked laughter*

Once in a while, you come across something that makes you think, and moves you inexplicably. One such time was last Wednesday when I was on my way home. I saw this on the LRT:

Nang mawala ka sa akin, ikaw at ako'y nawalan
Ako dahil ikaw ang minahal ko ng lubusan
At ikaw dahil ako ang s'yang sayo'y lubusang nagmahal.
Nguni't sa dalawa, ikaw ang higit na nawalan
Dahil pwede akong magmahal ng iba tulad ng pagmamahal ko sa'yo
Nguni't ika'd di mamahalin tulad na'ang paano kita minahal.

Who's making your food?

Across our office is a restaurant bar where we go drinking from time to time. It gets filled with office workers during lunch and at night. During brunch and late afternoon, it attracts foreigners, probably because of the al fresco drinking area and the fact that it's quite cheap for a restaurant in a condotel. In the morning, the main customers are students from a culinary school that share our office building.

This morning, I went to the pantry to fill my water bottle and spotted the students having breakfast. As usual, it's never too early to have a beer with corned beef and eggs. I really envy those kids. I wish I had uber rich parents who didn't care what I did with my life as long as I didn't commit crimes. I'd eff up school and get kicked out, then enroll in a culinary academy where I can play with knives and fire, and end up having beer at 9am with my equally rich and delinquent classmates.

Can you imagine that these students will graduate and end up in restaurants where chances of you eating food prepared by them is likely? These spoiled brats don't even flush the toilet. Can you imagine that most restaurants are already filled with people like these? This is the reason why I stay away from newly opened ones and stick to the classics.

On a side note, I wonder if I'll be a good chef if I tried. I thought of opening a lunchbox business for schools before, but I got bored with the idea of feeding kids. Maybe I'll feed senior citizens instead. I have the palate of a 60 year old anyway.