lately, i’ve noticed myself getting emotional.
i began this post with that statement to also warn you (yes, you, who have intentionally or accidentally gotten to this page) that, yeah, this is no different from the usual personal ramblings of some other rambly bloggers out there. so, if you do not want to divert from your good vibes, do not, as in do not, proceed. but if you still want to, thank you. for choosing to join me as i wallow in those emotions.
don’t get me wrong though. i don’t hate the universe. i may be socially awkward at times but i don’t hate people. i don’t smile much, but i giggle and laugh a lot. i stopped indulging myself in high-schoolish diaries after my first real heartbreak as a promise to myself that i will never again rant or grieve that way, or never again rant or grieve, period. what i just always tell myself is that there are people who are in deeper sadness or deeper poverty than i am in. not that i don’t sympathize but it’s a reminder that i don’t have much right to feel bad about myself. but we all know that emotions are stubborn. we will feel for the simple fact that we feel. and even if my occasional sorrow is none compared to the other problems the world has, it’s still not non-existent. i’m just trying to justify my being emotional lately and actually giving in to that.
i know i have a choice not to. i can do any activity that will require me to think of other things, to move, and to have fun. but even having fun stirs emotions up. not really crying. but usually, ending in that. happy or sad things, every little thing seems to poke my lacrimal gland. a co-worker and her newborn son. a predictable movie scene. a game-show contestant winning. an old woman asking for alms. and even those pesky kids in the street who want to grab the cold drink in my hand. worse, the emotions don’t choose a place when they attack. at my work station while trying to understand the English a grade-one-or-so student attempts to write. on the bus when i am standing and people pushing me in, brushing off my boobs and butt, and stepping on my foot. and even inside the restroom while trying to endure the not-to-be-mentioned kind of smell because one irresponsible fellow did not flush. but the worst place is in my little space called home because here, when emotions knock, i do not only let them in. i also entertain them by playing the how-i-met-your-mother episode where depressed Robin came home and Ted surprised her with the singing and dancing Christmas light display he had set up. i wish i had that, too. not Ted. the singing and dancing Christmas lights.
i know this emotional state i am in lately is really bad. i am not self-pitying; i am world-pitying. i would want to say i’m trying to be funny with that line, but i am not for right at this moment, it is creeping in again.
sure, i can blame it on PMS.
or maybe on the fact that i turn a year older today.
i left the office past twelve the other night. i walked from the building’s exit debating with myself whether i would just take one of the cabs in front of my way or brave the secret fear in me, head to the main street and wait for a bus, so i wouldn’t spend much for the fare. it was a holiday so i would be taking chances for some bus that would pass the avenue. normally, even if it is past twelve, the city is still busy. that’s why there was a little fear, too, that there would be fewer people, or maybe none at that hour, that would still be roaming around. even if i am used to going home late, there was still that small fear for bad elements readying for their next target. but the miser in me won and walked with my head up (i believed doing so would fool the hold-upers and the like into thinking that i was a tough one to get) to the main avenue. true enough, there was only one bus i saw as i neared the bus stop. thankfully, there was no bad stuff that happened. unfortunately, i missed the bus. the taxis where still tempting me, but i opted to wait for another bus.
and there i stood, and took a good look of the city.
it was sad.
the buildings here used to intimidate me. they were like six-footer models telling me that i didn’t have what it took to belong. everything about this place screams affluence, which i was not and did not have, and still am not and do not have. but then, i insisted and pushed myself in. it was not because i wanted to belong with or fit in to that affluent atmosphere. it was just because of that “feel” of the city. people in my humble and quiet hometown, my family included, still do not understand why i prefer living by myself in a polluted and noisy place like this. the truth is i find solace in the city. its madness drowns my fears, my tears, all my uncertainties. the city and i, we actually belong.
that night, when i was standing there, i felt the city’s sadness. it seemed as if i saw her tearing up feeling deserted and useless after a day of being used up and dragged to the worldly causes of people who were not mindful of her presence. true, there were a few cars either passing her weary streets or parked, workers who were either eager to come home or hesitantly walking to their posts, and couples seizing what was left of that night. but these were not enough to ease the city’s loneliness. she was used to the daily rushers, the honks and screeches of tires on her roads, and the dust and smoke filling in her system. and that night, she was missing them. what was only there was her lone self and her sadness. or could it be that the city felt mine?
i saw a bit of twinkle in her eyes when i got a glimpse of some fellows putting up Christmas lights in the middle of the street. they were just starting, so i didn’t appreciate much the concept this year. maybe, the city’s having a “white Christmas” judging on the only white lights i saw. good for her. i’m having a blue one. again. it has been. it was not supposed to be this year. but with recent events, eight months of anticipating and preparing for that “happy day” has gone bye-bye in an instant. it is amazing how one can be that full of hope and love for months and then, turn into a vase of emptiness in just one day of tough realization and decision-making. yet again, as what is often said, things happen. it’s not meant to be. we are not meant to be. he’s not mine anymore.
i saw some twinkling lights from afar and i knew it was my bus already. :p