It’s been a while since my last post. After a series of introspection and a rollercoaster ride of mixed emotions, I feel more depressed than ever, hence more ready to blog. Not really an ideal way to start the year but who wants ideal anymore? Nothing in life is ever ideal. Shit always happens whether we like it or not. And this is me at the peak of a self-proclaimed meltdown talking.
But tears are hard to come by as far as my biological makeup is concerned. I just couldn’t bring myself to tears the way telenovela actresses do. Somehow I feel amazed that some could even manage to choose from which eye a tear shall drop. It only makes me feel more abnormal. I shed tears profusely at every yawn and yet couldn’t even shed one whenever I feel like my heart or mind is about to explode. I remember Cameron Diaz in the film The Holiday. Her inability to cry frustrated her so much that emotions do not seem to be in her bloodstream. I know how that feels. Probably a psychologist should be on my speed dial. I’m not going crazy. Not so soon I hope.
Which is why I recall that one moment that’s forever embedded in my memory. That one moment: a cab ride from point A to a point of immense uncertainty. Marie and I were on our nth move and the gloomy night sky couldn’t be a more perfect backdrop. Despite our steady jobs and daring ways of seizing life goals, the universe conspired to accumulate all our worries together and pack our cab with one fiery ball of emotions bursting at the seams. We found ourselves hopping from one place to another searching for a flat (as I have shared in my previous blog entries). Our requirements were simple. It should be: accessible to both of our offices, affordable enough not to drain our salary, and preferably sharing it with fellow Filipinos. Easy? Nothing is as easy as it sounds. That and all the other little things that added up.
Inside that cab I felt both secure and vulnerable. The small, comfortable vessel lent us its transient warmth amidst the chaotic scenarios in my head. I couldn’t exactly remember what Marie and I were discussing about at that moment. Her words turned into garbled sounds that I heard not with my ears but with my whole being. Like an echo of a man slipping away from a tunnel deep underground, it sounded so daunting that I almost did not want to listen. I had weird imaginations of myself staying over at our atelier, sneaking after work hours to use the restroom for a shower before sleeping at the wooden flooring accompanied by frothy gowns that make my reality turn into fantasy, and vise versa. Paranoia got the best of me. I guess I was somewhere between a near state of astral projection and a progressive stage of delirium that I found myself shedding a tear. Oh my gosh, I am human.
Marie shook me as if to wake me up from a coma. I looked at her eyes and saw in her a three-part persona: A dear friend who’s always ready to hand over a hankie to cry on; A partner in crime who conquers dreams with an equal audacity and such firm resolve; And a comrade in battle, who’s always willing to save a wounded soldier like myself.
If not for her, I might not have recalibrated my emotions the way she did. For that I am forever thankful. The universe really has its own way of aligning and realigning things. Because while I am in my current state of misery, I am making this little tribute to my great friend. A superb coincidence or just impeccable timing? Anyways, thank you Marie*! After all, today is your birthday.
Oh, and Cameron Diaz’s character did weep towards the end.