This must be the busiest audit season I've ever been in. Perhaps it stems from the fact that I handle a bigger responsibility now: managing a handful of clients and trying to manage a team. The latter part, staff and time allocation and management is a challenge I face everyday. It's been a little seven months since the promotion and I still feel uneasy being called, 'Ms. Jade'. The promotion came in as a big, scary surprise. I assessed that my technical expertise still has lots of rooms for learning and improvement. Hearing my name being called onstage was a heady mix of shock, flattery, fulfillment and trepidation. In my head I was like, 'How did my performance pass three levels of evaluation? This can't be right.' Having only one year in audit experience, I felt it was too fast for a promotion.
But here I am, getting home as late as uhm, the morning after? I keep saying, 'gikapoy nako. di nako ani nga toxic life' to my best friend Kara. I love the fact that she's currently in UK because she's game for random calls at 2am or 3am! Thank you Skype and Viber. You save us a lot of bucks for international calls! And at 2am, talks could go from downright random or nonsensical to deeply sentimental and philosophical.
Just recently, a friend and I took a sentimental trip down memory lane at 4am (what did I say about stuff you talk about at the crack of dawn?), I reread stuff I wrote. I'm posting them for posterity's sake and for future reference? Will I make it a regular thing? I dunno, I've become so fickle blogging. But perhaps. I have to get back to writing and reading regularly. I feel like I've become rusty and slightly illiterate.
If this becomes a regular thing, what would compose the truths and nontruths will mostly be excerpts of a story I made up, actual convos rewritten because it made an impact to me then, notes I wrote for myself to unload and dozens of unsent letters for people I've hurt and hurt me in return, people I loved and continue to love, people who I've lost touch with but influenced me greatly, people who are my loose ends and for people I haven't met yet. Any quotes from books, poems or people which spoke to me are included as well.
..so much of our happiness is built on something so fragile, so impossible to guarantee. But that's what makes it special, doesn't it?
When has knowing something stopped you from feeling? When has knowing better stopped you from wanting? When has logic stopped you from longing for something we deem impossible? It's so tricky. Abba? Lead the way. Help my mind come to terms with my feelings.
To Kara, Leia and Mitzi. I have more to thank JK Rowling than any other HP fan. She brought me to you. To the girls who choose to love me and understand me in all I do, say and what I don't say. I swear to this day, my loyalty is with you always.
Not all hope is good. Sometimes it's evil because a tiny flame of hope is more painful than the harsh finality of cold indifference.
You tell me I'm tough. You tell me you wish you're more like me, brave. But crying, admitting you hurt and showing you care are also forms of bravery, C. I wish I have your heart. I hide behind my pride and ego, building walls. You are far braver. One of the bravest girls I know. You offer your heart to a boy without reservations and when he closes his door on you, you simply cry, lick your wounds and move on. There is bravery in risking it, C.
Dearest J. I am cold to you because I don't know how to say it. You are wonderful. The problem is, my clocks have stopped ticking since 2006. What you heard is true. They were the words I wanted you to say but I found myself running for the nearest exit. All the while I thought of him, frustrated at how after three years he's still the one I don't speak of. The one beyond wanting, beyond lust, beyond logic. He is my defeat. The first ever. I'm sorry, J.
July 2008. We sat there at Zoey's Cafe, an acoustic version of A Little Bit was playing. We made theories, challenged the truths and normalcy we were told. I enjoyed watching you talk of Him in passion. You always look so handsome to me whenever you do. You were blinding. I had to avert my gaze to catch my breath.
You tell me I'm tough. You tell me you wish you're more like me, brave. But crying, admitting you hurt and showing you care are also forms of bravery, C. I wish I have your heart. I hide behind my pride and ego, building walls. You are far braver. One of the bravest girls I know. You offer your heart to a boy without reservations and when he closes his door on you, you simply cry, lick your wounds and move on. There is bravery in risking it, C.
Dearest J. I am cold to you because I don't know how to say it. You are wonderful. The problem is, my clocks have stopped ticking since 2006. What you heard is true. They were the words I wanted you to say but I found myself running for the nearest exit. All the while I thought of him, frustrated at how after three years he's still the one I don't speak of. The one beyond wanting, beyond lust, beyond logic. He is my defeat. The first ever. I'm sorry, J.
July 2008. We sat there at Zoey's Cafe, an acoustic version of A Little Bit was playing. We made theories, challenged the truths and normalcy we were told. I enjoyed watching you talk of Him in passion. You always look so handsome to me whenever you do. You were blinding. I had to avert my gaze to catch my breath.
You know I have always been successful wearing a mask of indifference. I armor myself with light-hearted jokes. I am often seen jovial, laughing and cheery. To those I allowed to see me naked from all this, know I have depth, a sensitive heart. I keep tabs. I take notes. I hurt more than I show. You disappoint me. You know this. You know I have a tough exterior but a soft heart. How could you have asked, 'Am I making it easy for you to walk in and out of my life?' Has it been? Did it ever occur to you how much you mean to me?
how do i imagine meeting you?
in a cozy bookstore, lost in shelves
in a coffee shop, with a world of your own
in an airport, bored out of your wits
aboard a train, silently watching the world speed by
no matter how, no matter where we meet
i will know you
I love how your name rolls out of my tongue. I say yours in a breathy, half-whisper. My thoughts often talk about you lately. Your name. Why should I reduce your name to a cheesy term of endearment. There is no other name more beautiful than the one you were called to in your first morning light.
I keep thinking of Noah. Like him I write to you but I don't send them. You're my Allie.
Because I keep wondering still. As long as I root for Noah and Allie.
As long as I don't call Allie a fool for leaving her fiance to run off with Noah,
It means, I'm not over you yet. It means, I will break a good boy's heart. Again. For you.
Because my clock is still stuck in 2006. So every year, I watch the movie.
To check my heart's current state of address.
To see if my world still stops for a one-syllable name.
How long has it been? Four freaking years. F Shit!
When you cease to be nameless and your face blurry no more, you will read this and know that secretly, hidden behind all the cynic shit I keep spewing with friends (and even with you maybe), I have yearned for you long before we met.
Stranger, by the time we meet you will find other stars glittering in my skies. They came before you, each one a good and bad memory. Each one a part of me, an essential part of who I am now, this girl you came to admire. I may talk fondly of what’s passed but don’t let it be a cause of worry. You are my Sun, stranger. You outshine them all. Please believe that.
I love how your name rolls out of my tongue. I say yours in a breathy, half-whisper. My thoughts often talk about you lately. Your name. Why should I reduce your name to a cheesy term of endearment. There is no other name more beautiful than the one you were called to in your first morning light.
I keep thinking of Noah. Like him I write to you but I don't send them. You're my Allie.
Because I keep wondering still. As long as I root for Noah and Allie.
As long as I don't call Allie a fool for leaving her fiance to run off with Noah,
It means, I'm not over you yet. It means, I will break a good boy's heart. Again. For you.
Because my clock is still stuck in 2006. So every year, I watch the movie.
To check my heart's current state of address.
To see if my world still stops for a one-syllable name.
How long has it been? Four freaking years. F Shit!
When you cease to be nameless and your face blurry no more, you will read this and know that secretly, hidden behind all the cynic shit I keep spewing with friends (and even with you maybe), I have yearned for you long before we met.
Stranger, by the time we meet you will find other stars glittering in my skies. They came before you, each one a good and bad memory. Each one a part of me, an essential part of who I am now, this girl you came to admire. I may talk fondly of what’s passed but don’t let it be a cause of worry. You are my Sun, stranger. You outshine them all. Please believe that.
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