Another Story

Because they Believed.

04.15.2012 

Most of my "theories" were proven wrong. 

During the time of my isolation, I had been made to realize that indeed, I am not alone. When I chose to untangle myself from the crowd, the experience was grueling. But yesterday, the people I associate myself with did point out stuff for me to know and made me feel better than last.

That they allowed me to "breathe" for a while. Gave me space while I reflect on things. That while I was moping around, sulking, thinking some useless stuff over and over, searching for answers to my questions . . . they were worrying about me.

When i believed no one will contact me, they were frantic in keeping in touch with me, desperate for signs of "life", of any activity.

While I simply let myself believe that they have totally forgotten about me, they were there, just waiting for me to come back.

When I chose to vanish all of a sudden, they were alarmed by my absence and that put them on the edge. They had all sorts of ideas running through their heads  and it made them uneasy.

When I was at the brink of my "soul-searching", I hung onto happy memories, clung on impossible thoughts, vivid imaginations . . . I was at my limit. And then finally, one day, out of sheer boredom perhaps, probably a tinge of "readiness", or simply a whim, I publicly blogged about some insights that ate me. While I was sure nobody even bothers to read that open diary of my mind, the devastating condition of my heart and soul that lay bare, there it was, a reply form one of the precious people who waited for me.

It was then when it struck me: I hid inside my shell for so long (despite it being barely two weeks), barred myself with a wall I built, made impenetrable by anyone--even myself. While I do not regret doing such a step, and had been reminded that I do not need to apologize or explain because it had been my choice, somehow, I felt sad for myself. I  was pitiful. 

So now I stand, trying to mend the wounded parts, putting together broken pieces, and making myself whole again. Though not as complete as before, with parts still chipping away even as I carefully take each step, I must persevere, be faithful, listen, and most of all, BELIEVE.

Calendar of Confessions

What I had been up to, what I went through, what I plunged into.

04.01.2012

Last night, I opted to deactivate my Facebook accounts. Initially, I thought on leaving a little something for people to ponder about. In fact, I’ve made two stanzas of a poem, which is intended to leave clues as to where I’d gone, but eventually, I decided to do otherwise. I left my usual comments, the banter, the praises, the rants, anything noisy to let them know that I was still there, alive, probably frustrated that I can’t attend the con, fussing over how my costume didn’t make it in time, and the list goes one. Then, before the clock struck twelve, I left my main account, followed by the support account.

What’s funny and surprising though, was that someone PM’d me just before I was about to shut down the support/public account, asking me if I’ll be able to attend the convention today. That caught me off guard as I planned to vanish without a trace, without anybody knowing. In the end, I told her of my plan, and her reply was nothing I ever imagined.

This girl, whom I’ve only met once, turns out to be a kind of salvation for me. The Lord has His ways of letting me know that I am not alone, I said to her, and in return, what she said was, “I feel like I’ll never see you again.” For some reason, I wanted to laugh because that feeling is what I wanted to elicit from others, and then here comes a person who felt exactly that when I haven’t even left!

I feel that she is a genuine, sincere person. Given the chance, I’d want to learn more about her, to befriend her, to be a part of her life as a friend. Once I get back in the cycle of things, I’d do that on top of other things.

The purpose of leaving the site without saying goodbye is for me to know who really care about me. For me to know who notices my absence and worry about me. For me to know who goes through all lengths to find out what had become of me. For me to know who will come looking for me.

It is probably a selfish act, as I’ve come to contemplate on my actions. And I’ve yet to come to a conclusion as to what is more hurtful: vanishing without saying goodbye, or saying goodbye as one is about to leave. In my defense, I can always say I need some time to thing about things, and Facebook is just a hindrance, or a distraction for me to reflect on some instances that need some more deep-thinking. But that’s just me rationalizing on that step. And rationalization does not always bid well.

If I think about it more carefully, I didn’t have to pull on that prima donna act to gather attention. Not that I’m asking for one, but that’s probably one of the end results of my rash act. That’s just asking for more trouble than actually fixing what needed to be fixed. It’s like an insult to those who are willing to help, because my going away without telling anyone is just distancing myself more. It’s not helping one bit if I want others to listen to what is bothering me. Apparently.

04.03.2012

My thoughts aren’t as organized as I expected them to be. I have a resolve to forget him, to give myself a deadline on this thing called ‘complicated feelings’ that I chose to complicate myself. But on my second day of contemplation, I realized that maybe, what I’ve been doing is right. I came across a status of one of my workmates/seniors and what it said helped in strengthening my resolve: “Sometimes we have to go away just for a while for others to realize how valuable we really are.” It was my initial purpose for temporarily leaving the site, cutting off contact from everyone else, except for my closest friends, and it merely confirmed what I had intended all along.

04.07.2012

It’s a tedious process; six days of absence and on-and-off, I’ve been thinking who are worried about me, or there are even those who care at all. I may be mistaken; that there may be no one who is actually alarmed by my silence, that they may be too busy to care, that they may be exhausted in waiting for news. I’d dearly pay for my rash act one day, and I won’t be surprised at all if she ends up with him by the time I came back, or that people have grown more distant from me.

Waking moments are the most difficult as there is fear, anxiety that threaten to wreck my solid determination that I am almost tempted to let them know what, “Hey, I’m here! I’m waiting for you! I’ve gone away, but you have to ask me why!” But I must not falter, must stay on my ground because if and when I make the first move, I know I’m on the losing end. This may be my pride talking and being in-control of my thoughts and action, and it’s both good and bad. Though probably more on the ‘bad’.

I hope one day, I get to the bottom of things, fix what needed to be fixed, say the words needed to correctly convey the message, and let the feelings speak for themselves.

04.09.2012

Today, I have been struck with an insight the moment I woke up: a particular person causes me to be insecure of myself and she sometimes intimidate me by her presence. I’ve racked my brains for answers to such mysteries, to no avail. It took me 9 days of absence, and still, I can’t come up with a decent result. I shared the said dilemma to my close friend, and her words blew me away, and I can’t be more thankful with the words she imparted with me: “You can start moving from those facts… We can’t choose the innate personalities we possess, but we can surely hone and develop our character. It’s the balancing factor. I have always been told before, ‘strong characters conquer strong personalities’.”

With the way I acted, though, I can’t be sure it can fall under the category “strong character”, because it felt like what I did was just me escaping, running away from my problems. I wonder, now, what people think of me once I come back. Will they ask me where I’ve gone, say they’re worried out of their wits, and thought something’s happened to me that I can’t contact them at all? Or will they just ignore me and stay more distant? Or will it eventually boil down to nothingness, into vain, everything futile, useless, regrettable? In the end, I’m probably the real coward, hiding behind the pride that I believed would protect me in times of crisis. How I wish I can start anew. Start all over. Mend broken friendships and learn to decipher who are true and not. . .