Tuesday. Been home for a week now. On top of that, I still have until this weekend to take my well-deserved break. My first after about 5 years of working like a dog. And so all I could really do these days is sleep and eat and sleep, lose some eye bags, gain some weight. My recently-retired dad has been spoiling me with all my fave dishes which I did miss a lot. Makes leaving again more unbearable than last time. Especially now that my mind's so set to fly and find my place elsewhere. I kind of given into the hopelessness of our dear country ever giving us the answers to our dreams. So as others did, I'm leaving too. If you ask me where I'm going, it's still a secret. You'll hear from me soon.
I've talked to my parents about it, and as always, all they could promise me was their support and love. Though they gave me things to think about, like having a job that pays good enough, and being in a safe and comfortable zone, and the price of aiming too high, they still leave the decision to me. My call. I love my parents for that. I really can't remember the last time they ever stood against any of my decisions, after college graduation. Their trust, I had to earn it over time though. Used to be really stubborn I'd bang my head against the wall when they wouldn't let me have my way.
I remember those times I was this little rebel who'd make my dad's nose really flare up. I joined a sorority in college against his will. I got myself into a lot of mess in school, with my idealism. There was a time my father had to beg me to just concentrate on my college books instead of being so involved in student activities. My very first subpoena (for slander) was served to my dad and he got so mad and shamed that when I got home, he was throwing my clothes at me, and asking me to leave the house if I won't give up our case. I didn't give up (it's a good thing we won) coz I almost failed to make it to graduation because of that case. One time I asked for permission to go to Catanduanes for a JPIA event, and my dad, learning we'd take a ferry disapproved of it. I still went. I knew he wouldn't let me have a boy friend yet, but I still did have, behind his back.
The good thing bout me is that I was good in class. (Confidence huh)Even getting tangled up in all those troubles, I still managed to score good grades. My dad would say, how much more if you only focused on school? Looking back, I think I did pretty well. Had it not for all those not-so-good things, I would have ended (if I could borrow this line) intact but incomplete. Or maybe a four-eyed geek.
Anyway, this is my prob. I've no sense of direction, especially with my thoughts. I've this straight road I wanna take but things just pop out of nowhere and I start talking about totally unrelated things. Like now. I meant to tell a story about my sixth day here in the province, free of work and stress and worries. Like what I've been doing the past days, while all my friends are at work, my sister's in school, my mom's at work too, my brother always outside, and my dad busy with the store being put up in front of our house (being retired and left with not much to do).
I've been making scrapbooks. Very therapeutic. Though nostalgic too, especially when I stare at photos that looked so happy back then, and felt so painful today. So beautiful to go back to time and feel how hard you once laughed. Somehow you knew that when you smiled that time, you were really happy. And when he hugged you, or kissed you in the photos, he really loved you.
Old photos. Sweet memories frozen in a piece of paper to give you reasons to be thankful you've taken the road that led you to them. Why you crossed paths, and loved each other. Why he had to take a turn. Why you had to stay glued to the same ground. Probably so when he comes back, he'd know exactly where to find you.
I've this favorite quote that says, God gave us memories so we'd have roses in December.
I love roses.