I always feel like I'm stuck in a time zone, body not growing, and mind not maturing, heart not falling, and people treating me the same way I always was back in elementary. I'm in a cycle of aging in the days that I wanted to caught myself on fire, be illuminated and be seen that I was burning, and hoping that someone might try to extinguish me and wrap me in a cocoon of warmth. My history don't do me favors, it continuously threading my soul with disgust of other people and piercing through my flesh the hate they had for my parents.
My relatives always say that we are educated people and we must, in every way possible, act to a lesser destruction. We must always be the one to understand and lower ourselves to the ground. I'm lowering myself that I am being trampled on. I have received all the hateful words and coldest of treatment in every occasion from just one person. I am never mad, have never let myself live in the anguish of the spirit. But my relatives always assume I do. And they always shower me with morals and lessons like I have always done something wrong. Whenever I received phone calls from them, they never forget to remind me and make me feel like I wanted to burst.
They wanted me to prove myself to that person that I am worthy of love that was not offered to her when she was young, and they always say that that's the reason why she was like that today. They wanted me to show affection and do all kinds of cheesy things a granddaughter is meant to offer. But what they don't understand is how we are the same, that we are both deprived of the emotions and feelings from another person, that I am incapable of sharing thoughts and emotions because they have not shown me how.
It's a constant cycle that I have yet to try and break. I'm fearing that any little light I have in my sight is going to vanish and my hopes dissolve in the clouds of gray and dark. I'm living in this 20 km/hr drive of sports car and clear highway but I have never tried to get pass the speed limit and runaway to the finish line.
The irony is how my days are fast-paced, explosive and has no room to be sweet. Everyday I have a routine to follow, wake up and survive, and to survive is to follow three rules: 1) follow rules, 2) don't get attached, and 3) do not fall in love. And when the moment comes that I break any of these, I go back to how to survive. Or just fall asleep instead and wake up to amnesia.
On a scale of global problems, my depression is a minor affair, but any increase in the misery index, I felt must be fought. But I don't know how to make the plates inside me stop from moving and bumping one another so that my bones and flesh would also stop from colliding. I'm a loser who preferred to be a victim rather than take control of my own life. I'm frozen and unmoving. I let other people decide.
I've spent my life stuck in a labyrinth or maybe a prison built for me, thinking about how I'll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps me going, but never do it. I just use the future to escape the present.
All this philosophizing and self-incrimination is making my head hurt. But when I stop writing, maybe I stop from knowing myself. I hear it. I hear myself breaking.
Dating is an alien thing to me. I would never be caught dead in any dating spot because I've never been to good places to date. And worst, I've never dated. I'm small, fragile and incapable. Not to mention that I am height impaired. No one would date such poor thing. Guys want white girls with long blonde hair, long flawless legs, bright eyes and pouty lips, perfect cheekbones and carefully carved jawline and hips that they could wrap their arms all night.
"You have a boyfriend, aren't you? Or boys have been courting you? I told you to prioritize your studies so you could graduate and help your family. Maybe you spend so much time going out and wasting money on useless stuff." Aunt Lizzie is rambling again.
"I don't even have enough time to sleep might as well have boyfriend who are very demanding, lust-packed, gross aliens. That is too much. I would rather pay for sleep than have boyfriend for free. Oh and by the way, if you would ask, I have boy friends. Is that not even allowed? Well then I don't know what. And I don't know where that even come from either." I'm pretty good at comebacks but it would be better if I don't answer at all. She would ask about that again anyway. And my family will always think of me as whore and that is because I had a mother who took off with another man. What a pathetic life a have. Oh yeah, "had" because I don't have a mother anymore. I don't want to get on with dramas but might as well be clear about it now.
Talk about not moving on. They assume that I hate her and not wanting to talk to her is a visible evidence that I'm a hateful person. Like I said, I don't hate people. I don't hate them because they left and forgot about their responsibilities. They have choices, she had, and we all do. I don't want to take that away from her just because I wanted something for me. Love is never forced. Respect is all that I could give her though. Because forgiveness has been highly overrated.
Lizzie is giving me that I-don't-trust-you-that-match look. And it is annoying.
"You should be sure about that. I'm just worried about your future."
"You don't have to be. I know my priorities and besides there're many fish in the water. I'm sure they'd be the ones jumping on my boat soon enough". That is disgusting. I shouldn't have said that.
"I know. You are smart and beautiful….."
"I'm not." I said then shoved a slice of pancake in my mouth.
"Yes you are. You are talented and kind. And those are the reasons why you have to be careful. Boys are attracted to girls having those qualities."
"basjdblwcwrblmrmdsd" I drink my glass of water.
"What? You shouldn't talk while your mouth is full."
"You should know that whatever you believe becomes your reality and please, don't think of me as a baby prostitute 'cause I have dreams and besides, boys like the model type, I'm not that type." Like I always know what to say even at times when I don't but pretend that I know what I'm saying. And she's giving me the look again.
"Oh yeah. Thanks for breakfast. I should go because if not, I would be late and totally fail my class and not graduate and be jobless and be poor. And worst, not be able to help my family and not help you back and we'll all die in hunger." I get up and pick my bag.
"You are so annoying I don't know what to do. And it's the first day of classes I'm sure you will not fail this early. Take care." I hang by the door until she finish talking.
"Yup thanks and take care also. What time is your flight again?" My aunt is leaving for Saudi again. She works as a nurse there for years now. She have a son who is a jerk but very successful with his career because he is very smart and graduated from a famous university. She is helping my family since she started to work, well because no one supported us since my father lost his job and my mother took off.
"2pm"
"Okay. Bye then. I wish I could take you to the airport but I have class so see you later."
"Bye!"
My morning conversation was nice but I wish the weather was nice today too. But it wasn't. It's cloudy. The day is pale. Everything is dark behind the clouds and the sun doesn't look like the sun, it looks like a silver oyster. Disgusting. Soon enough it will rain and I hate that. But honestly, what I really hate is bringing an umbrella. I don't bring one whether it rain or shine because it makes my bag heavy. I'm really small and thin so I don't like the idea of hunching on big back packs bigger than my own body and it makes me look even smaller.
One day I had to stay on the bus stop because it rained really hard I couldn't run to the underpass to my school because my uniform could get wet and my stuff would be drowning. I didn't brought an umbrella because I don't bring one. I had to wait until someone I know passed by and I asked for a cover. I don't personally know the person, just someone I see on the hallways of my school but that was my only option so grabbed it.
I get on the bus hoping that I would see Jeo. She's my blockmate. We have classes together and she lives a village away from me. She always brings umbrella so I have no worries when I ride the bus with her. I am not a user or anything. She's actually my friend. Maybe it was fate that we live near each other and go to one school together and I don't bring important stuff and she does.
Oh crap. I don't see her here. Maybe I should get off and wait for the next bus. That girl is always late. But it wasn't late yet. In fact, I have two hours to waste just for this ride so maybe it wasn't too bad. But I don't want to waste time. Maybe it won't rain that hard and I could just hope for the best today. Where is she anyway? It's first day after all and I thought we're going to stick together 'till afternoon for work.
I texted her and sit at the very back of the bus, where we usually sit, and waited. People are filling each seat by the minute. This bus will be full very soon. Oh no, I really wish I was smart enough to bring umbrella in this kind of weather. It's so cold even though I wear a sweater. I adjusted the AC and focus it on the seat in front of me. Bad move. I thought there wasn't someone there yet but apparently, I'm wrong.
"Hey. Excuse me but could you adjust the AC a lil' bit? I always get this terrible headaches whenever it's too cold." Dug dug, dug dug, dug dug, what is that sound?
The boy is cute. Crap. Messy hair, dark eyes, nice neck. Yes I kinda suck at boys having boyish neck curved in to perfection, and messy hair. Those are the type that doesn't have to try hard to look good. They're like the "I am not brushing my hair today 'cause I don't have anyone to impress". Ooooor. The type "I already have a girlfriend and she likes my hair messy". But it looks like the boy don't have anyone to impress and girlfriendless, at the moment. He is wearing a uniform that I am pretty sure is from my school. So he's my schoolmate then. I could give him a welcoming snide maybe?
"Oh sorry." I adjust the AC so that it was facing the seat beside me. "Funny because I kinda get them too whenever I hear squealing gay friends asking to adjust the AC." I wear my headset and pretend to sleep. I wanted to dissolve in a puddle right now but I have a day to survive so maybe later.
Love unconditionally. Give love even to those who don't deserve it. So I have to love this cute boy because he has terrible headache and he doesn't deserve my love.
Unfortunately, the rain couldn't be stopprd and continuously dripping all my hopes and dreams away. Maybe I had to ask another good person to share with me her precious umbrella. We reached the bus stop faster than expected.
I get off the bus as fast I could trying to avoid Mr. messy hair. But now stuck under this crowded shed, unable to spot possible good person or any familiar face to rescue me from this tragic scenario. I wanted to sing a sad song, a very, very sad song because I am a very, very sad person of a very, very sad life. I'm being pushed into a puddle, in which I was thinking to have to dissolve in a while ago. I'm catching drops of rain to where I am standing and no one seemed to mind that my uniform is going to be particularly and stunningly wet when I get to my class. Am I being punished right now? What have I done to deserve this kind of pathetic situation when all I have done this morning is not been able to bring an umbrella?
I went out of my reverie when I realized that somebody's in front of me holding an umbrella, a precious umbrella. He is holding out the umbrella for me and is staring at me for I have no idea how long. And I am being an idiot not talking and blinking back tears that I am yet to let on because my savior has come to rescue me.
"I hate rain so much it makes me want to wish for summer all year round but that would be really sad because it would be too hot all year round and it would make me wish for rain all year round and I'm blabbering"
"I guess you have a class to attend to and knowing that the rain will stop for you, means that I have to do good deed every once in a while and help you. Since you tried to adjust the stupid AC and save me from a tragic day of headache." He extended his hand and handing me his umbrella. "And you could do me favor by holding this and try not to get both of us wet."
When he handed me his umbrella his hand brushed mine a little and it gives me shiver for a reason that I am yet to find out.
"Your hand is so cold." He said
"According to my little cousin, my hands are so cold because I have a secret ghost boyfriend who holds my hand a lot. Well, it's raining and it's cold so what do you expect?" He's just staring at me like I'm a retarded talking eel. "I'm sorry. It's just that the rain irritates me. And by the way, it would be such a great idea to cut classes on the first day of school, don't you think?" He smiled a little and we started walking.
We pass through the underpass that went on to the other side of the road because j-walking is out of the option since it is first day of classes and we don't want to get stunningly wet and or get hit by a bus for trying. The underpass don't do me favor by trying to look a bit presentable on the first day of school. I should stop saying "on the first day of school" because it sounds like I'm entering elementary all over again. Sleeping guard on a dirty bench that looks like it hasn't been touched by a cleaning rug since 1620 bothers me so much because guards are supposed to "guard" v. aren't they? The fluorescents are a bit too much like those they used straight from a horror film. I wouldn't be surprise if Sadako, who was not even scary if you ask me, will crawl herself out of this walls. The tiled floor is sticky and needs mapping this instant. But aren't the floor supposed to carry the weight of our dirty souls, I mean soles? So maybe I don't have to be bothered by that.
As stupid as what I was thinking is me feeling really awkward walking beside this messy haired boy. I couldn't quite explain why I couldn't describe him in mere words that any normal girl could. I couldn't say that his thin or muscular, tall or short, handsome or ugly, smart looking or stupid looking (if there's such thing), clean, or hot. He's something that's incomparable and indescribable. I couldn't say if he's plain or full of elements that don't exist on this planet. I am not saying that I sense him as an out of this world gross creature or an alien. His presence is just overwhelming that I couldn't be contained because he radiates a nuclear don't-talk-to-me-or-I-might-kill-or-kiss-you bomb. I don't know if I wanted to be killed or kissed either.
"This has been the most awkward silence in the history of awkward silence." I let out brave words for the both of us to comprehend. "Are you a senior? Because if you are, why haven't I seen you before? This is just a small campus and 85% of the population are required or if not are forced to interact with one another every once in a while. You don't look like a freshman either."
"Do I look yong to you? Or old?"
"Oh look he can speak! What a wonderful scene it has been."
He just keeps on walking and straight-faced. I didn't noticed before that he has a tattoo. What a loser. As much as I like how good-looking he can get, getting dirty on your skin is a no no for me. Why do people want to write on their skin anyway? The tattoo on his wrist looks like overlapping lines of black ink in wild attempt of solving algebra. A lot was going on in his tattoo like numbers and letters in other language that I couldn't comprehend have been thrown all over a tic-tac-toe but it wasn't really that big. It occupies like a square inch of his wrist.
How did I able to observe such small thing? Simple, I am looking down at it. And now I look like a puppy walking beside her master.
"What are you doing?" His lashes lifted, revealing eyes so
Black and brilliant they couldn't be real. They were an intense dark color that stood out in vibrant contrast against his tan skin.
"Well, I was obviously looking at your tattoo." I walk backwards so that I am facing him. "I am fascinated with little things as such. And people who get their skin imbedded for a lifetime. I won't asked what yours mean because I don't get nosy on our first meeting and I'm saving myself from getting you mad and leaving me umbrella-less in this kind of weather." I walk on the right direction again so he won't get irritated. "So are you a freshman?"
We reached the end of the underpass. We climbed the stairs, me tailing him. He opened the umbrella again and wait for me to climb the last steps. We are side by side.
"I'm a freshman." He said
He doesn't look like a freshman at all. More like a superstar exchange as a student and more like a senior to me. He has this aura of confidence and knowingness that I, myself, don't possess.
"Really? Sucks for you. What are you taking up?"
"Why is that so? Isn't college supposed to be another wonderful academic experience?"
"Well first because you get the general subjects, which are super boring, and professors who can get you to sleep faster than a sleeping pill. But as your senior, or technically a junior, I am thoughtfully going to warn you of your wonderful academic experience."
I am counting on my fingers the warnings that I am about to offer.
"If you're taking HUM1, and I'm sure you are, unfortunately you'll get Peñaflor who I thought was gay but actually has a wife, and very demanding with your performance and presentations."
He's just nodding at my words.
"You're going to paint on a sandpaper, take pictures of statues, answer art questions in essays, dance, and take my advice here, try to be on a group where a hot girl could dance a hot number. You'll definitely get a perfect score. And even get to be exempted for the final exam.
"If you're taking Eng101 you'll definitely have señora who will remember you because you have a very fascinating surname, for her. Wait what's your surname?"
He showed me his ID. Reider. "That's pronounced as what you think it is pronounced as." I'm actually surprised that he shared one valuable information to me, the pronunciation is what I mean. Ha.
"Great. So anyway you'll just hate her." Because I did and it doesn't matter because she'll just guess your grade anyway. "NSTP is just what I call subject-where-they-collect-money-from-your-tuition. I suddenly shiver at the memory me doing a charity. Don't get me wrong, I do like children but I hate them when they started hugging me and wanting to play with me in which case that children are normally playful human beings that I always hate them."
I realized that I've shared precious information with this boy and we finally reached our destination.