fRom the 4 coRneRs of my mind II

I need spiritual enlightenment!! Until that smacks me in
the face, I’ll be accelerating death by smoking as many cigarettes as I can in
a day, down deadly but oh-so-yummy Chicken Joy saturated in “the most unhealthy
fat” (I’m assuming you guys received the text message going around about
Jollibee’s Chicken Joy), and getting zonked almost every night. Sure beats
crying myself to sleep.

You won’t believe what an
extremely unlucky week it was for me. Or is it lucky seeing as how I am not
dead yet? Karmic payback?

*Sigh*. I know I shouldn’t be complaining. A lot of people
would be thrilled to be in my shoes.

Some fascinating things I learned today:

1. Smoking doesn’t exactly kill you. It impairs your immune
system making you susceptible to disease. That disease eventually kills you.
Lung cancer is not caused by smoking. I’ve known 2 people (personally) and read
about another handful who have succumbed to lung CA who don’t even smoke. In
which case, Smoking didn’t kill them. Lung cancer did. Tama ba or ako yung
may tama? Either way, one of them has to be correct; or lack of sleep is
making me stupid again. Btw, it’s 5 am and I can’t get some shut eye because of
that darned Sukob movie. Shit scared. Hehehe.

2. If you’re planning on dating someone from Balut, Tondo, (I am
desperately hoping that I spelled that correctly lest residents get mad and
stab me from behind) you better be covered by insurance.

 3. The general rule is: hindi totoo ang true love. The
exception is: If you’re one of a lucky handful to have it land on your lap.

4. Even if T and I fight constantly, breaking up and getting back
together and then breaking up again, I know I wouldn’t want to be with anyone
else but him. All I know is that he was like a breath of fresh air. Like I was
drowning and he saved me.

5. People go for the most reward with the least amount of effort.
It’s one of the laws of nature. Having that in mind, gorgeous people don’t
whimsically attend law school unless they have major insecurity issues. I now
know why I am in law school.

6. People rarely say “enough”. I don’t say enough because there’s
always a possibility for more; more tequila; more cake; more hurt (how
twisted); more, more, more. More is better. There’s no enough until the plug is
pulled.

It’s not me. It’s not us, girls. It’s not even karma at
work. If your love life is screwed up and you’ve stopped believing in true
love, it’s not you. It’s them and their stupid boy-penises. 

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They say that life is just like the movies. Each depicting
episodes of life; yours or the damned Lothario sitting next to you on a bus.
Each character playing the part. Scenes flash by and the plot unravels,
thickens, and then finally ends. When it does, the credits roll, the lights are
switched on, you pick up your belongings and you leave the theater. Simple.
Almost mechanical.

Wish it were that easy in real life. Au contraire. When a
chapter of your life ends, you just can’t pick up and leave. You linger for
awhile, contemplate what transpired and leave when you finally decide to;
usually after a crass enlightenment.

Loss. From a legal stand-point it could mean actual
loss, capital loss, constructive total loss, or just plain ordinary loss. To a layman,
it may be defeat, bereavement, deficit, or damage. Whichever semblance you may
accept it, it leaves you with the following setting: (a) a graze that you could
leave open to heal or patch up with a band aid; (b) a rugged wound that
eventually heals and leaves a scar that eventually erases itself over time; (c)
a deep cut, similar to that made by a scalpel that requires sutures, bed rest,
and all sorts of drugs to heal only to find that it has left you with an
indelible indication.

Material losses are the grazes. It bruises but you recover
eventually unscathed. Losing someone you love is the deep-surgical kind. Either
because they have passed on (they died) or they decided to pass you over (they
decide to move on and your heart breaks into a gazillion pieces in the process).
Both extremely tough to deal with.

With death, there is a preconceived acceptance. You know
that everyone has to, at some point in their life, deal with a loss of a
parent, a friend, or anyone close to your heart. It is just a matter of time. You
have no other choice but to accept it. To ease the pain by thinking positively
that he’s in a happier place right now happy and without suffering. It’s a fact
of life. You can’t bring that person back from the dead. You just cope with the
loss.

When someone breaks your heart, and you are stuck in a
unilaterally accepted delusion that you are meant to be together, you risk an
arm and a leg to get that person back. Literally or figuratively. You subject
yourself to all kinds of humiliation. Doing desperate things just to get back
the attention. Trying to out-do him; you know you’re the victim. Struggling to have
dominion over the internal chaos.

You want to meet up. For coffee. To talk things out. To
salvage whatever it is that may be saved. To try to reconcile the otherwise
irreconcilable differences. To exchange goodbyes and well wishes.

When all the questions have been answered, after everything
that needed said, and you’ve exhausted all the possibilities, you surrender.
Sure, the pain is still there. Not the actual kind but that similar to a ghost
pain of an amputated arm. The pain that naturally comes when you’ve lost a part
of you. When finally all hope has left you, or when the poignant reality that
the other person doesn’t want you back has ultimately dug on you, that’s the
only time you’ve truly moved on. Not a happy ending, but a fitting conclusion to your ordeal.

And then the credits roll. Everyone knows that the movie
isn’t over until the credits roll. The part where efforts are acknowledged and
the audience claps if it’s a premiere screening. After all the highs, the lows,
the flair, and the drama — show’s over.

All you needed was closure.

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