Tired, anxious and extreme are the only words for today. Last night was spent bawling because that’s what happens when people break up and need some time to sort things out. Disasters, I’m told, have a way of taking us far from reality and for a few moments we’re busy people with lives that seem greater than normal. Thanks to Ondoy, I didn’t have much time to worry about myself. The non-stop beeping of my phone plus the constant mail to be sorted has numbed me enough to get by and it’s thanks to this that I manage to function.
I guess it’s just unfortunate that in the evenings there’s much alone time and no matter what I try, there’s a constant heaviness in my chest. I dreamed of the ocean once–You and I were floating then this huge wave fell upon us. There was water everywhere and the salt burned my lungs. I think I passed out and when I finally hit shore, the sky was so blue and the water so calm that I could hear my pulse getting stronger and stronger. The beating echoed until I could feel the tightness in my chest and that’s when it hit me that you weren’t there.
They say this lasts only in the beginning and I find that rather silly. The beginning of what? The end? All of this is rather morbid and vague but I suppose that’s what makes it real. The rawness of being apart and this clarity that comes in pockets is a never-ending tug of war that keeps me moving from one extreme to the other. Sometimes I wish I could stop and take a breather but often it’s with great fear that if I do, the walls might collapse and let all the water in again. Or, I might find myself understanding fully how much space there really is such that I can no longer hold myself together. I think of atoms pulled together by a force inside me that suddenly weakens in the presence of an infinite space, powerful and weighty on its own.
And then there are all the things I ever wanted to do with my life that seem to hold no meaning when confronted by the reality that I do not have you to share all of this with. But see, this isn’t how we broke up and you’re right, history isn’t meant to be forgotten and ties need not be cut in order to move forward. There is a way out of this loneliness but it’s one that you’ll have to tread with me. We needn’t hold hands in prayer like we used to, but we must have faith.
I called a hundred people today and though it was for a good cause, the experience wasn’t to be described as enjoyable. There is so much alienation between you and the person on the other line that at some point, I didn’t want to ask them anymore if they could send money. Instead I wondered who they were and what sorts of lives they lead. So much forgetfulness again numbed my clients from the name of their country being spoken and to it’s suffering people. It isn’t their problem, this flood…nor is it their concern. On the other hand there is also this profession. This business of calling strangers asking them to do things we may or may not believe in. There is also that two-minute phone call made to sell a product and the three second realization that the phone line has been cut. You have been disconnected. I can’t help but feel awful for people who have to put up with this. No one is paid enough to be rejected or told off and at the same time, no one is rich enough to be let alone to live quietly in the peace of his home. This doesn’t feel right but we do it anyway because we believe in the cause. Tomorrow we will call again and hopefully, things will be different but I won’t expect too much this time.
Lastly, I am also secretly worried. Level A1 of the French test will take place in a month and I don’t know how to gauge my readiness.