Day Two

To my surprise, I'm doing really well.

It's been two days since they left, and I'm back to my regular duties. I haven't cried so far. I guess I'm really recovering--fast. The thing is, I don't feel much of their absence when I'm here in Manila (as I said in my previous post) and it really helps to just think of them as being somewhere in Muntinlupa. My Dad even sent me a text message this morning. It doesn't feel too different compared to the old times when they were still in the same country as me. Yay for me, I'm progressing! I just hope it's true. I don't know what I'll feel when I go back home on Thursday. Maybe I'll just go back to square one. Then again, maybe just back to square three or four. 

Hey, look at this picture. 

Dad, Elaine (my niece), Mom carrying Rachel (my newest niece)

Cute, right? Knowing they're happy there and that they finally got the chance to meet the newest addition to our family made me feel so much better. And yes, Rachel (the baby) looks so much like me when I was young. It's like my Mom and Dad traveled to the past and found the younger me. Hahaha. 

I laughed so hard at school today because of a hundred different reasons, but mostly because of the epic cheers at N119. Thanks, batchmates. You made me feel better even if you didn't really intend to. :>

Day One

It's Monday, the start of a brand new week. Although I have a lot of things I should be looking forward to like the long weekend ahead and moving in to my new condominium unit, I don't feel so fine. 

It's been a day since my parents left for California. Thank God they had a safe trip. This afternoon, my sister uploaded a picture of my parents as they arrived at California. They were all smiles. I couldn't help but smile as well and forget about my own selfish reasons for being sad. 

I'm back in Manila again. Before, my Mom would accompany me in commuting. Today I had Gizelle instead. The ride somehow cheered me up as we talked about Lee Min Ho and other stuff (mostly about Lee Min Ho, still). I only had one complaint about the bus ride--the scent. Curse all those pine tree shaped air conditioners. 

Going back to Manila usually makes me sad, but today it's different. Yes, I still feel sad about leaving home, but I feel slightly better here than back home. Here I can just imagine that my parents are there at our house, and not in another continent, in another time zone. At home, I felt their absence. There were spaces and gaps. Looking at the places where I usually expected to find them was heartbreaking. The sadness was everywhere. I felt it when I looked at my sister's eyes. I heard it in the silence that was ever more present at our house. I saw it in my niece's actions. I felt it run down my cheek.

While studying, I had to listen to music to cancel all the other noises here in the room. I cried when Kiss the Rain started playing. Maybe I should think of removing it from the playlist temporarily. 

People keep telling me that there's always Skype, and that my parents will return soon. But those words can never replace the emptiness I'm feeling now. Everything reminds me of my parents. I miss how I would kiss them both in the cheek before I leave the house. I miss how I would do the same thing when I come back. I miss everything about them. Pictures and phone calls, or Skype-ing can never make up for those moments. Never.

I know they will return. In a few months, a few years, I really don't know. Nobody knows. Even my parents don't know when they'll return. But for now, I have nothing but a sad and almost empty heart. The road to recovery may be hard and long, but I'll take it. I take my first step today. 

By the way, I extend my congratulations to Pagbabago Party for winning majority of the positions (including the Presidential position) in the recent village elections. Yes, Lord, I take it as a pun. 

Time to Grow Up

I still remember the day my Mom dropped me off at a day care center inside their (my mom and dad) office compound. I was hesitant, but I eventually agreed to let go and have her leave me there for a while. It went well at first. I was having fun with all the toys and all the videos until nap time came. I was allowed, or rather forced, to take a nap. I did. Eventually, I woke up crying. Crying because I thought my parents left the compound without me. I thought they were gone. I thought they went home already leaving me there in the day care center. 

Of course, they didn't. I was wrong. It was just a silly feeling that I had because I was not used to being away from them. It wasn't real. It was just a nightmare. How I wish it remained just that, unreal, a figment of my imagination. 

Today, everything changes. I really need to grow up now. My parents left for the states this afternoon, and I am left here--without them. I still have one of my sisters here in the Philippines along with her husband and child, but it's never going to be the same. I miss my Mom. I miss my Dad. It was really painful watching them leave me there at the airport. I hugged them both--hard. Then there they were past the gates waving at us. I cried, and cried. Nights before this fateful day, I cried myself to sleep. 

I think tonight's not going to be any different.

12:30

It's past midnight, and I'm still here...typing. I have this weird sense that by sleeping, I'm wasting time. No, not really wasting time. It's just that I think that I'm better off doing something else instead of sleeping. Especially now that my summer break is nearing its end, I want to make sure that in every minute or every second of it, I did what I really wanted to. Sleeping takes so much time, and I was never one to actually sleep just for the heck of it. I sleep when I'm tired or when I'm really, really sleepy. But if I'm feeling fine and there's so much to entertain myself, I fight off the urge to sleep.  

That's what I just did. 

The Ram

Aries in any relationship is magnetic and intense, and others are drawn to these qualities.  The Aries individual prefers a strong partner and strong friends, but only those who are capable of giving the impression that Aries is in the lead.  Aries will be a loyal friend as long as the relationship keeps evolving and they feel that it is of benefit, but if they become bored or the relationship becomes stale, they will assuredly get out.  One who is in any relationship with an Aries should know when to push and when to back off and give the Aries some space.  Aries likes a challenge but pushing too hard will drive him off.  A sure-fire strategy with an Aries in any relationship capacity is to verbalize often that you find them smart and worthwhile, and that they are number one with you!  Remember, with Aries, the by-words are "me first!" 

Formspring's question for the day got me searching for the traits of an Aries. I came across this article describing an Aries in different settings like in a relationship, at work, etc. I was surprised because the article was pretty accurate. I tried reading up on other signs and they were pretty accurate as well (based on my experience with other people). 

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

That's how I am right now. 

I know you're having fun out there, and I bet you're having the time of your life. I just want you to know that I still want to be acknowledged. Little things count. I still remember what you promised me.  

I hate being neglected. 

Coincidence

My Mom and I were alone at our living room watching this primetime show with a very lame title. While lying there on the couch, I started crying. Yes, I just started crying. I was crying because on the 19th, my parents will leave the Philippines and go to the land of milk and honey. Sad. She started comforting me by saying that it'll all be well in the end, and that someday all of us will be there. Once they leave, I'll be left here in the Philippines with my older sister and her husband and child. My two siblings, with their respective families, have all migrated to the states already. I'm going to be really independent from then on. I don't know how I should react.

So there, after that emotional episode I had, we went upstairs. My Mom wanted to sleep in my bedroom because there was something going on with my Dad. There she was on my bed watching TV while I had my back on the TV and was surfing the net. Suddenly, she came across a TV show regarding migration. The guy on the show said, "Ok lang naman mag-migrate pero dapat buo pa rin ang pamilya." Bingo. 

He went on and on about how great the value of the family is to us Filipinos and that we should remain solid as much as we can. 

Oh yeah. Someone's playing tricks on me. 

I Wanna

There are things that I really want to do, but because you can't always get what you want, I end up dreaming--just dreaming--that someday, in another lifetime, I'll be able to do these things.

I want to cut my hair short. I just want to feel light and carefree. That's how I perceive people with short hair. I think they're really liberated and free. Since I'm not really carefree or free or liberated, I guess I want to look the part. But no, because of my face shape, I just can't. It's just going to make my cheeks look fuller. My hair isn't that great too. It's just going to go in all directions once I cut it short. Having it long adds more downward 'pull' to my hair. 

I want to shift to another course. Yes, that's right. I don't want this course anymore. It's really, really hard. It's physically, emotionally, and, of course, mentally demanding. In the two years that I've been studying, I feel like I aged 30 years more. Or maybe, I just don't want to stay in this institution. I really want to go yellow. 

I want to go on a road trip with my girlfriends. I've been dying to do this. Again, I just want the feeling of liberation. It'll be really great. Going on a road trip with my closest friends will definitely be fun. I bet everything I own that it will be a rocking road trip. Crap. I don't even know what to say anymore! 

I want to get married early. I know, I know. I'm better off wishing for a rainbow-colored whale shark than to actually wish for this one to come true. But I'm a hopeless romantic. I want to get married before I enter med school. But of course, no kids until I graduate. I think it would really be great to have somebody to go home to after a tiring school day. I want him there, beside me, while I study. I want him there, preparing cups of coffee while I pull an all-nighter for an exam. Sigh. Dreams. 

I'm a coward. I don't act on these dreams because I can't. I live by other people's rules, and it'll break so many people's hearts if I start acting on these (especially the last one). But maybe, someday, I'll finally get the courage to do these things. I think the road trip doesn't sound so impossible. I just don't want to be the designated driver, okay? That would mean I'd have to focus on the road all the time. That's not going to be fun. I hope everybody's car has insurance. 

June

I cry each night.

It was moved, but it will come--soon. 

Change is inevitable. 

6.19.11

I Hated Boys

One big difference between the Joyce now and the Joyce back in high school is the fact that I used to hate boys.

I wasn't a total man-hater, but I can say that I only liked a few of them. By few, I mean really few. I only had a few male friends back then. By the word 'friends' I mean those people who were in constant interaction with me and those whose company I usually kept. And of course, I had a boyfriend (Hi, Ken!). I just acted casually with the 'other' boys, and I never really had conversations with most of them. Why? Because they couldn't! We had nothing to talk about, and they made as much sense as a conch shell. At first I thought the fault was within myself, but as I logged in to Facebook, I was reminded that it wasn't totally my fault.

Now in college, I have a lot of guy friends. They arrived as easily as my new 'girl' friends, and they stayed as well. I'm glad to say that I enjoy their company--a lot. It's different to how things were in high school. I guess I just 'connect' better to my newly found male friends than to those in the past. We love having conversations about stuff we're interested in, and they don't stupidly post repeating comments. I'm glad I met these people. They've proven that there ARE nice guys on earth and that they can be your friends--good and intellectual friends, too.


Some things never change, though, like IQ levels and senselessness. I'm just glad I'm no longer in high school.

Meet Rosalie

Once again, Sims 3 got me hooked until one night one of my sims turned jet-black and it scared the hell out of me. In the past, I posted one of my sims' stories here in my blog. I wanted to post something about Marcus Frio, my legendary rockstar sim who had 16 children (most of them were illegitimate, of course). But I was so hooked that I didn't even have the willpower to get off the game and actually write something about him. Now I just want you to meet my prettiest sim ever, Rosalie. 

She's a 'legitimate' granddaughter of the legendary Marcus Frio. I'm proud of her because she turned out beautifully. I didn't create her, ok? It's a rare occurrence to have a gorgeous sim child from pre-existing sims not to mention that this one belongs to a generation of sims already. 

 She's quite popular.

And she's a doctor.

I'll post something about the Frio legacy sometime in the future.

p.s. I didn't give her that stupid name. She was an illegitimate child and her mother named her without my consent.

The Brain and Pork Brine

I've seen it. I read it. I even 'liked' it. I know you're not obliging me to give you any form of response, but I want to. After days of thinking of a clever response to what you said, I managed to end up with this. Just a simple blog post--straightforward and truthful like the person who wrote it. 

I thought I knew the melody that I heard you singing

And when you smiled you made me feel like I could sing along

First day. I was on my way to our car to meet my Dad who had been waiting for me when I passed by your school bus. You greeted me. I greeted you back. Your identity then was not as distinct to me as it is now. From a pool of new faces and people I had met that day, I didn't really have the mental capability to remember your name. But I remembered you, and what you did. That was probably our first interaction. The second one was when I sent pieces of rice flying toward your direction and having them stick to your pants. Long story.

Time passed by and suddenly I found myself beside you, and you beside me. Time passed by again, and *poof* you meant so much more to me than just a...native carabao. Now that I try to recall some of the 'good' days, I can say that I really had a great time with you as my friend. We never ran out of stuff to talk about, and we would laugh about things other people wouldn't even get. 'Just because we're smarter than you doesn't mean we're boastful' was our favorite catchphrase. I still remember the day when you brought a copy of your favorite song to school and asked me to be your back-up singer. 

I didn't want to tell you. I knew that if I did, everything would change. I was aware that you had your eyes (and your heart) set on other girls and I was not one of them. I wanted to just let it pass since the school year was almost ending. I could just forget you when school ends, and start anew when it begins again. I knew you. You were nice to people. You were nice to everybody. And when you were nice to me, I didn't want to think of it as something else because it would just be painful. As I said before, I knew that at the end of the day, I was just another friend, a seatmate. 

Until one day, somebody invaded my privacy and read my diary while I was busy campaigning for a position I eventually won.

I thought you knew. I really thought you knew. The devil who read my diary was quoting 'lines' from the same page wherein I said something about how I felt for you, and yes, I really thought you knew. He was blurting out those lines in front of us, and so I thought that you were just being nice by not reacting to it whatsoever. It was agonizing. I managed to just live through the final days of school believing you knew my secret and that you didn't want to deal with it. I didn't want to ask you. I was a coward. I was weak. I couldn't handle rejection.

In one way, I felt rejected all the same. You continued talking to me about your main squeeze day by day. I just nodded to whatever you said, and I really tried to be a good friend to you. So it went on. I wanted to forget about the incident and just deal with seeing you every weekday as if nothing happened--as if you didn't know about my secret. 

Then, we went our separate ways. 

We never talked in person as often. There were instances when we were in the same room, but we didn't talk. I really wanted to patch things up. I wanted to rebuild the friendship. I guess it's just too late for that now. There were instances as well when we talked face-to-face. There was one time when I shamelessly sat beside you in the bus, and during another time in February. You were my what-if. Now, yes, it's been a almost a year since we last talked online. We remained friends in cyberspace until last year. I felt it. I knew you were avoiding me. I knew you weren't talking to me, and I let you. As always, I didn't want to force myself into your world. You walked out on me, and I didn't run after you. I guess, you didn't want me to. That was your way of telling me that I should not get involved with your business and you with mine. 

Now I know what's behind it. Now I know how you really felt, and what all of it was about. I loved reading it, but in the end I got somehow offended. No, wait. I shouldn't be offended that you somehow implied that I made things harder for you. I'm me. I'm not for the weak of heart. I rock people's worlds. (So egotistic, haha) But now that it's all out there, I guess this marks the end of it all. Wherever this may lead, I don't know. Thank you for everything. Good luck with life. May you find the happiness you deserve. Someday, our paths may cross again--and I will definitely kill you with a chainsaw.   

Maselang bahaghari sa aking isipan

Huwag kang mabahala, 'di kita malilimutan

p.s. I said 'yes', but you left me first.