There aren’t much words to express the state I’m going through and I don’t know why I found this sudden urge to type it all in. Like I said in my earlier post, I haven’t really given myself time to grieve at all. Maybe that’s why I’m jumping out to blog-vomit all my thoughts once again.
Being in a four-year relationship is no joke. My growing up years were spent with Jan (oh how liberating it feels like to be able to type in his name with all maturity and no setbacks at all), and together we grew to become the soon-to-be-adults we already are. Thinking about the amount of time we’ve dedicated to each other, it’s hard to picture myself in the next four years without him by my side.
He was there when I had my juvenile heart broken for the “second time”. He was there when I signed up for cadet military training–when I wanted it, abhorred it, regretted it, but stuck through with it. He was there until the day I went up on stage and graduated with honors. All my plays, my published works, my positions, my dances, my grades, my failures, my fights, my woes, my breaks, my dismissals, my “all-nighters”, my exams and my college applications.
He was with me and saw me transform into this strong, courageous woman who, at first, was afraid to face the new life she had in Ateneo but turned out to fit in pretty well. He stayed up with me cramming my homework, writing difficult essays, solving Math problems I never understood, meeting my Guidon deadlines, and working through all the to-do lists I’ve managed to stuff myself with. He was there when I learned to commute, to drive, to get lost and to be found. He was there when I hit roadblocks that challenged my principles and he was there to get me back up.
Jan saw me at my thinnest, my fattest, my prettiest, and my ugliest. Jan accepts me when I’m pretentiously prim and proper, and loves me even more when I’m dressed down to my worn out PE shirt and pambahay shorts. As both lady and baboy, Jan swallowed all that in with nothing but a smile. He sacrificed being with a girl who had to keep her hair up and in a turban for a year, a girl who mistakenly thought bangs would work for someone as curly as she was, and a girl who has managed to accept her mane for all its beauty. He was with me when I stood taller than him and now that he’s passed my height by an inch, he still was there.
Jan looked after me through sick days, PMS-ing days, happy days, and my signature roller-coaster of emotion days. He was someone who never let anything hurt me under his watch. He went through the monthly menstrual pain that almost kills me every time, and the occasional “sira ang tiyan ko, Jan, uwi na tayo please” kind of complaint. No matter when, where, how, why or who, Jan was the common denominator.
Jan was there — and I was there for him, too.
No matter how much I would like to write that previous sentence in the present tense, I can’t anymore. Because sometimes things change and life gets the best of us. Sometimes, no matter how much you want time to wait for you to make both ends meet, it won’t. Because time doesn’t stop, and it is precisely because of this that life shouldn’t either.
I’m on the process of finding myself and making things right for me. I want to find what more there is to life on my own, and build for me an independent future established by no one but myself. I want to conquer the world and move on with my past–and he will always be a part of me, a part of me that I will never forget.