changing

In a few days, the whole world will say goodbye to 2009. I don’t know about you but whenever the year ends, I drown in feelings of helplessness- especially if it’s been a good year like this one. 2008 was a pretty boring year for me, full of unfulfilled plans and failed attempts at flight. I knew I had to start 2009 with a different approach. This time last year, I sat down to write my New Year’s Resolutions. They had to be big, yes, but they also had to be manageable.

What is it about New Year’s Day that gives such hope to folks like us? It’s like with a pen and paper, you can wash away all the errors of the past 365 days. There is a massive hope for change for everyone. Problem is, change doesn’t really come easy for me. I’m quite the creature of habit, you see. In restaurants, I favor tried and tested dishes over the exciting and new. My hair has been revolving around two or three styles ever since high school and I still dress the same way I did two years ago.

It usually takes something huge for me to change and with 2008, it was a huge lot of nothing. It’s like my whole life stagnated that year and so I knew I had to shake things up for 2009. Last year, I set out to do a couple of things: expand my horizons, improve in my career, be stronger in faith and fall in love.

I met a ton of bloggers this year. If that’s not expanding my horizons, I don’t know what is. I’m usually very picky about who I let into my life but I must say everyone’s been really nice. I met people who made me feel like I was part of something. I met people who inspired me to take my writing to different heights. I met people who taught me valuable life lessons. Some people challenged me to use my head. Others challenged me to use my heart. This online universe we live in and the bloggers that I’ve met will always hold a special place in my heart.

Career wise, I’m still where I was a year ago. The only difference is I feel like the experiences I’ve had this year have made me stronger and wiser. As a facilitator, I am much more confident in what I do and say. I no longer let small things like office gossip or disagreements get in the way of my work. I’ve learned to develop a special bond with the people I train, some I’ve even come to call my closest friends. They too have carved a special place in my heart.

Of all the lessons and epiphanies I’ve had this year (and if you read this blog regularly, you would know that I am a sucker for lessons and epiphanies), I find my year-ender to be the most important- he who stops changing has stopped learning. All in all, this year has been very good to me. I feel very blessed that for once, everything is in its rightful place. There were many tears this year but there were also many, many laughs. And while change doesn’t really come easy for me, I know that I must go through it. It shows that I am still human. It shows that I am capable of learning.

I almost feel a little sad that the year’s about to end but there’s also a huge part of me that is very excited for 2010. I have many more things to accomplish next year and because of the lessons I picked up along the way, I know that whatever comes my way, I’ll be just fine.

As I am writing this, dawn is breaking and the sun is starting to warm the metropolis and its residents. I almost forgot one of the biggest changes I’ve made this year. I open the door and the room is freezing. I undress and crawl back into bed. Suddenly, your warmth is all I feel. I snuggle into a hole within your being. Thank you for crashing my walls. Thank you for sticking around. I know that the little victories I had this year would mean nothing if you weren’t there for me at the end of each day. You once asked me how much I love you and I told you I couldn’t give you an answer. All I know is more than anything and anyone, you have the biggest place in my heart.

	Jennifer Hudson I Am Changing Dreamgirls: Music From The Motion Picture

interlude: between the sheets

there is nothing
but the sound of your voice
the scent of your skin
the warmth of your body
calling me home

i ball up like a cat
and pull up the sheets
wishing i could hold
those seconds in my hand

that's the thing about borrowing time*
you never know when you need to give it back

Original Photo Credit: Champ Inside

	Glee Cast Alone ft. Kristin Chenoweth Glee: The Music, Volume 1

on borrowed memories and expectations

I woke up and I didn’t know what time it was. My first impulse was to reach for my phone under my pillow but it wasn’t there. That was when I realized I was in a different bed. I got up and looked around. Everything was bathed in light. The windows were open as the wind played hide and seek with the curtains. It was so beautiful. There weren’t any shadows where secrets or doubts could hide.

The bed shook a little and I realized I wasn’t alone. I turned around and the sight of you took my breath away. The sun shone on your face and your bare chest. Although you were asleep, I could’ve sworn you were smiling. I sat beside you and I kissed your cheek. Good morning.

Good things never last. Like an overexposed photograph, the room started to fade away. Everything was engulfed in a sea of white. I tried to hold on to you, to us and to everything we had in that room but I couldn’t. Suddenly, I was awake in my own bed in my own room. I became aware- a little too aware of my consciousness. In comparison, I felt like I had just lost everything. It pained me to know that you were not beside me.

The dream was a moment borrowed from a future memory- one that holds no certainty, I know. I closed my eyes again hoping that the dream would come back but it didn’t. And though I tried to keep them at bay, just like that an expectation is born.

	Plain White T's Hey There Delilah All That We Needed

trial and error

Once upon a time, I was pretty good in Math. I studied in a Chinese school and my Math teacher taught us so many tricks. By the time I transitioned to a new school, I was way ahead of my classmates. I loved how you could solve any problem with a little bit of common sense and just a pinch of elbow grease. It felt good to know that all problems have a clear solution. For the first few years, I got pretty high marks in Math.

And then came the concept of factoring. Hate is such a strong word and I don’t really use it that often but I can honestly say with the utmost conviction that I hate factoring. I still remember that day we first discussed it. My teacher gave us rules and examples but at the end of the day, it all boiled down to a concept that I could not grasp- trial and error. Math is all about logic. If you willingly risk making a mistake to find an answer, that’s not being logical at all. There should be no room for errors, I remarked and this new concept was shaking my very ideals to the core.

I flunked many a test in factoring and that year spelled the end of my love story with Math. In high school, I cheated my way through Algebra and Calculus. In college, I had to retake Trigonometry in a different college just to pass. I no longer wanted to study Math knowing that there are some problems that could only be solved by trial and error. They say all the failures in your life happen for a purpose. Last night, I realized why I flunked factoring.

I was out with friends two hours after my new love* ended. I needed the distraction. I was quiet the whole time and they kept asking me about it but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t really feel like talking about it. Being the youngest, my friends are a little over-protective of me and I didn’t want to think about anything at that time except recuperating from my loss. When alcohol had lent us its strength a few hours later, they pushed me into talking and I managed to finish the story without a single tear. I was pretty proud of myself.

But then they started discussing it and one of my closest friends said that I “allowed the situation to happen.” She meant well. She always does but at that exact moment, all my fake strength evaporated. In a moment worthy of Maalala Mo Kaya cameras, I delivered my first emotional line of the night.

“So are you saying that it’s my fault I’m in this shit? Honestly, I just gave this whole thing a chance. You wouldn’t understand because you’ve never allowed yourself to fall in love,” I said (with matching tears). It was part defense, part offense. She pushed my buttons and I knew just which ones to push if I wanted to cross her. By then, our voices were raised and the people in the other tables were starting to stare. Our other friends, split by the conflicting points, could not do anything but try to calm us both down. I stood up and went to the restroom. People can be so irrational when they’re emotional.

She was quiet after that. When I came back from the restroom, I noticed she was stifling tears. Damn, I felt so guilty when I saw that. I cannot stand seeing women crying and knowing that I made a really good friend cry made me feel like such an asshole. I knew that words would not be enough so instead of going back to my seat, I went over to hers and gave her a really big hug.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered in between sobs. “I’m just very emotional right now.” She flinched. It was one of our most awkward hugs.

“I just don’t understand why you allow things like that to happen to you. You saw it coming. You told me all about it. I’m not the type of friend who would hold your hand and tell you everything’s gonna be alright. I’m sorry, I’m just not. You saw it coming but you didn’t do anything to stop it.”

“No, I didn’t but you can’t blame me for that. That’s what you do when you love someone. You exhaust all options because it’s worth it. But I have my limits too. Would it help if I told you I ended it?”

She looked at me and said nothing but in her eyes, I could hear what she wanted to say. You’re stronger now. I’m glad you used your head this time*.

“Everyone says I’m jaded. Everyone says I don’t allow myself to love but how can I knowing that it could really get hurt?” she explained. “You’re one of the smartest people I know and yet you’re so stupid when it comes to love. You keep allowing these things to happen to you. I just don’t understand.”

I told her my factoring story. At first, she looked at me like I was crazy to bring up such an inane topic in a moment of high emotional stress but when I got to my point, I felt like for the first time that night, we finally saw eye to eye.

“In math and life, the hardest problems can only be solved by trial and error. You think I was being stupid for allowing my heart to get stepped on again and again and again. What you’re not seeing is I learned so many things along the way. Yes, I’ve made a lot of stupid mistakes but they will all be worth it once I find that person- the one who loves me to death and never fails to let me know every single day. The one who can be proud of me and would never hide me behind walls of secrets*. Don’t you think that’s worth it?”

“I just don’t like seeing you get hurt,” she explained. “I know I have a weird way of showing it but you know I love you, right?”

“I know. I know. That’s why you should probably know this: I have a lot of mistakes to make before I find that person. There will be times when I will feel down and I need to know I can count on friends like you to be there for me.” We hugged and that was that. Good lovers are easy to find but I would trade a shitload of them for one really good friend.

Trial and error: an abomination to logic but if you think about it, when has love ever become logical?

Photo Credit: BCMath

	Alicia Keys Doesn't Mean Anything The Element of Freedom

secrets

Do you know why secrets itch? It’s because it stings to be kept in the dark. They struggle in the darkness like a drunken man sneaking in at 4AM- fumbling through furniture for the light switch while trying to keep silent.

One of my earliest memories of secrets was with my father. Growing up, I saw him as a very mysterious and strict man. He had many rules for us. We could only play from 4 to 6. By 7, we should be bathed and ready for supper. We could never leave a speck of food on our plates. If we broke any of these rules, we would surely get the bitter end of his black leather belt.

Of all my father’s rules, the strictest was bedtime at 9 o’clock. This story is about the time I broke that particular rule. It was the night that I had a little too much soda and the caffeine just wouldn’t let me sleep. I snuck out of my bedroom and went to the living room to play video games. At around midnight, my father opened the door and found me on the couch wide-awake. He totally wigged out. I got the beating of my life and was sent to bed wounded and in tears.

You’d think that that would keep me from staying up but I was a pretty curious kid. I wanted to know why my father was awake. I could see from the little space beneath my bedroom door that the dining room light was still on. I opened the door a little and I could see my dad. I wondered what he was doing.

Upon closer inspection, I saw that he was swinging his hips. Was he dancing? What was he dancing? I had questions. So many questions. Why was he dancing? Was he joining a contest? Was my father a good dancer? I wanted to know. Dammit, I really wanted to know. When the curiosity was so intense I felt it would overflow, I mustered up enough courage to open the door.

It was then that I discovered my father’s secret. He wasn’t dancing the flamenco or the tango. He was practicing his golf swing.

There are some things you should know about my father. He grew up in a farm; the youngest of a large, primarily male family. Although the land was theirs, it seems there was never enough of anything for his entire family. Like most parents, he wanted his children to have the life he never had. He left the province to work in the big city and swore he would never return. He found a woman with a similar view to raise a family with. Together, they worked hard to raise my sisters and me. They’ve kept their promises. Growing up, we always had enough of the basics: food, clothing, shelter and love. (A little too much love if you ask me. We were a little socially retarded from the lack of interaction with people outside the family.)

Now because my father had spent most of his life making semi-riches out of rags, he did not have the same interests or skill sets as the men his age. To put it simply, he couldn’t afford any hobbies. I suddenly recalled a conversation he had with my mother when we were driving to church. A friend had invited my father to play golf in some posh country club. He tried to play it down, adding a scoff here and a few off-topic remarks there but I could still tell that he wanted to go. My mom told him to turn the offer down. We were barely getting by and a sport like golf would cost a lot of money. “Stick to what you know,” she told him and that was the end of that- or so we thought.

Suddenly, it all made sense- the weekend “meetings”, the late night practices. No wonder he was so cross when he caught me playing Mario! I interrupted his private tee time. He was trying to catch up with men who grew up affluently- who were able to master golf at an early age. My father didn’t have that same privilege and if he wanted to play with them, he had a lot of catching up to do.

I carried my father’s secret. I understood his reasons. That night, I saw my father’s human side- the one he hides from the family he kills himself for. Who was I to deny him of this outlet? Undetected, I went back to my room and never told a soul.

What would my father do if he learned my secrets? Sometimes, I imagine life would be better if nothing was kept in the dark. Although I keep most of them for our mutual protection, there are moments (like right now) where I wonder if he would accept me, his only son, for who I really am. I suppose some secrets are darker than others. The only similarity is that they are all in the dark. I understood you, father. Will you understand me? I saw your reasons and I loved you for them. Do you think you could find it in your heart to accept mine?

In saner moments, I realize that such questions are pointless. Some riddles don’t have answers. I have learned to never question. There are things you just accept.

 Photo Credit: MHA

	Jewel Daddy Pieces of You