Goodbyes and a new sense of solitude

On Goodbyes...

I hate goodbyes. "Goodbye" is just such a sad word. Losing someone is such painful ordeal to have to go through. It's a shock that manifests itself more tangibly than any other emotion, and much stronger than even the deepest sense of failure or regret. And when there are no tears left to cry, the loneliness sets in.

I'm a self-raising child, but sometimes, I still feel the impact of losing my mom so early. Mid-Christmas break, I had a long conversation with Tita Susan about my mom. I'm reliving an ominous sense of loss now that I can't seem to remember her anymore. Her face, her voice, how it felt to be hugged in the morning, to be dropped off at school, to be welcomed literally with open arms after a long day, to be tucked into bed and kissed goodnight... After 13 years of going through life without her, it seems like she was never really there, that she only exists in my dreams and in old photographs, in those little messages she scribbled on the insides of the storybooks she bought for me and my brother. Juxtapose that with the knowledge that I would have never become who I am without her, it all amounts to reliving the saddest goodbye I ever said. I'm still in the process of trying to reconstruct a tangible memory of her, attempting to draw myself a picture from a distant memory here and there.

If you've ever lost a parent, you'll know that when people tell you that they know how you feel, they really don't. And though they tell you they're sorry for your loss, it really doesn't make dealing with the sudden sense of emptiness any easier. The morning I woke up to find that my mom was gone was the worst morning of my life. After the the funeral, I found myself alone, a 9-year-old trying to figure out how to manage a household, how to take care of my younger brother, and how to deal with myself. Difficult times that still haunt me sometimes. I'm just lucky I'm more resilient than most people. Everyone has problems. Everyone has issues to deal with. And they all are proportionately equal burdens to bear. But losing a loved one, losing a parent, and later on losing your memory of him / her is a different story altogether. Trust me, when you lose a parent, you lose part of yourself forever.

A new sense of solitude

So far, I've been "single" for two and a half years now. I remember describing myself after the big breakup as having just gotten out of a two year +++ relationship and getting used to a new sense of freedom. Well, it's one thing getting used to a new sense of freedom. It's quite another to be facing a blank wall or an endless tunnel (not necessarily dark) most of the time. These are the sort of days when I feel like I've lost my sense of direction in life. I mean, I know where I'm generally headed, it's just that it's all so abstract. Well, yes, that's generally how it is, but... I don't know. Maybe it's because Tito Ron's migrating to the States mid-March. I've just gotten used to having him around, or at least in the country.

As for my relationship blues, or better yet, my no-relationship blues, mainly due to the fast-approaching Valentine's Day on the 14th, my birthday on the 17th, and the Winlaw Ball on March 4th... I just miss those days when I had a regular date, someone to hang out to watch the sunset from the football field, or to be with until the wee hours of the morning or until sunrise just sitting somewhere with good intelligent conversation, with or without a beer. Without anybody getting jealous and minus the risk of getting teased about it. It's such a hassle having really close guy friends who are otherwise engaged or committed. I inevitably get rumored to be trying to pry them apart, or to be the other woman. Duh? They were my friends even before they got together with their so-called significant others. If we had something going, then that something would have inevitably manifested itself by now. If it's my guy friends who are not otherwise "in a relationship", I get all these gooey looks that say "Is there something going on with the two of you?" or worse, "He's mine, back off." Why can't people believe a girl can just be friends with a guy and not have anything else going for him? Gawd, what a goddamned hassle.

Well, when there IS something there, that's a different story altogether. But that "thing" happens to be something special. It's not something I feel for every guy who comes along. Like I always say, if I don't care for someone, that means I wouldn't bat an eyelash even if you jumped off the tallest building in Manila. BUT if I do give a shit, i.e. I care-slash-love-slash-(whatever people call it nowadays), I'm very protective, and I'm fiercely loyal. That having being said, well, sometimes, things just don't work out the way I wish them to. Sometimes, it starts out well, develops into something beautiful, and then ends in sobs and tears and drunk nights crying my eyes out with my girlfriends. Sometimes, it doesn't start at all. But somewhere along the line, something wonderful is bound to happen and last. At least I hope so. God, I hope so. It's not about being alone or not being loved, because I feel neither. It's just about having something else. Something different. Something exclusive, for lack of a better word. Something special. It's like having a special little secret that only he and I share. It's just...comfortable, but with that oomph.

This entire tirade about relationships is actually a teeny bit peculiar, given the fact that when certain events lead me to the reasonable belief that X or Y or Z or A or B (or whichever letter in the alphabet one would like to use to substitute for his real name) is makin' moves, I freeze. I get scared. I run. I did it before, and I think I'll never get over my fears. It's easy to flirt when I'm just being playful, and both of us just engage in harmless pseudo-flirtatious conversation which we both know doesn't mean anything significant and will not lead to anything more than a funny exchange of words. Otherwise, i.e. when I like someone, I inevitably get tongue-tied. Yep. I do. And I hate myself for it. Gawd, he thinks I'm such an idiot who can't keep up with him. Kainis. I end up censoring and sanitizing and rethinking and rewording everything in my head, prejudging everything I want to say, that I end up either not saying anything at all and just giving him this retarded look, or saying something incomprehensible. I'm not exactly a genius, but I'm not a moron either. And I hate coming across as a retard. Man.

Anyway, I think I'll end this splay of words right here. I'm going upstairs to berate myself for my inability to carry on an intelligent conversation. Sometimes, I really get the feeling that I'm losing 10 IQ points everyday. I think I'll just hide under my pillow until the sun comes up. At least my pillow won't judge me.