Musings

I feel as much as I think. I do both excessively.

Category: Inside the mind of an April

Fully(?) Independent

by avrillorenzo

October 5, 2016 – Wednesday.

It’s the last day of my “weekend” from work and Kevin and I went to view the condo unit I’ve been eyeing for about a month now. I was really excited to check the place out. When we got to the condominium, the owner was stuck in a meeting so she left the key to the unit at the reception and left us alone to tour it. I know I may sound like I’m over-romaticizing looking for an apartment, but I think you’ll understand me by the end of this.

So there we were, key twisted to unlock the door. There it was, what I would call home for the next n-months, maybe n-years. There it was.. and I was so excited. I was eager to check every corner of the place. It was semi-furnished so I had less things to worry about. But every step I took (which you could probably count because it was a standard unit a.k.a. small) had my mind reeling with ideas of furnishing and designing the place until it became everything I wanted it to be. I was already making a mental list of what to buy and formulating a budgeting strategy to buy them without having to sacrifice the momentary bliss brought by the paper. He was excited too, making suggestions that I’ve actually already thought about and agreeing on how we want it to look. By the time we were satisfied with our conversation, he pulled down the pull-down bed and we laid there.

My cheeks started to hurt then. I didn’t realize I was smiling too much. He reached out for my hand and I took it with a squeeze.

“Can you see it?” I asked. He looked at me, rolled over and nuzzled my cheek.

“I always have.”

We moved in closer to share a kiss but were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. I quickly got up to answer the door and with a scratch of his head, Kevin sat up.

The owner sent someone to assist us should we have questions. The only questions we asked were about the lighting and measurements, which the guy didn’t really have a sure idea of. So, we both decided to view it again next week with the armed with an engineer’s tape measure.

We didn’t stop talking about the unit, even after viewing the unit and we were well on our way to the mall to have our hair cut. After which, we decided to go to a home depot to check out things to buy to furnish the whole place.

While we were on our way to the mall, he told me I looked so happy. I said I was, because it felt like I was so much closer to attaining something I’ve always wanted since high school :

Living on my own, fully independent.

And he knew I was, I am.

..

So this is what it feels like, to have a dream come true.

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Evolution.

by avrillorenzo

My life has been passing me by recently. In a few more weeks, I would be 2 months into my job and I never really noticed until I started writing this blog. Despite it being such a short time since I graduated (it’s only been 2 months since then!), I already feel like I’m close to evolving to an adult. In Pokémon speak, just a couple candies more and I’ll evolve into Avril. Yes, I chose Avril despite it being one of my nicknames back in Uni when my classmates in French class would call me that. But its constant use in work just made Avril the adult version of me. This justification seems out of place but I’ll leave it here just because. Maybe it’ll lead to something.

Work has been heavy.. but to be honest, I’m enjoying myself. I have a new skill-set because of the training I’ve had and I’m learning more and more every day. I also get along pretty well with my teammates. Despite the rough start because of personality clash, we worked around it and now we’re working in harmony(?). I feel pretty special too with my French team. I’m the only girl and they treat me like a little sister. That has its perks because they buy me food and stuff. Just one week in from meeting one of them and I got a Venti Frapp from Starbucks. Add chocolates almost every week, you’d feel special too. Spoiled would be a better term to use for that.

Another thing that has got me all fulfilled with being in Avril form is the capability to help-out at home. Thanks to my work, I got my parents health insurance. And of course, there’s the financial support. I’m able to help lighten up the expenses despite being so far away. I know it’s not really expected in other countries for children to give back immediately to family after graduating and having a stable job. But here in the Philippines, it’s a norm to do so. But I’m not saying it’s because of that that I give back to my parents. I just want to. The normal scenario would be parents asking and the children being willing to give as soon as they are able because of the whole ‘Utang Na Loob’ Filipino trait. But it’s different with my parents. My mom even discouraged me from giving every month. All she asked was for my siblings and I not to forget them when they’re both old and retired. I want to give because I know how much my parents are still struggling with expenses especially since my mom lost an administrative position at the Uni she’s working at because of the shift of officers. My parents are great at making ends meet. And this is me making it less of a difficulty for them.

Adulting renders more feels than I’ve ever had. But these feels are the good kind. Despite bad days at work, I still have my feelings in check. No more anxiety attacks and not much overthinking because my life is pretty much on track right now. I’m slowly achieving my to-do list for the latter end of this year. Everything is good. Slowly getting to great..

Slowly evolving to Avril.

Roots

by avrillorenzo

2 weekends ago marked the end of a very long chapter in my life : college. Funny enough, now that I’ve started working, I feel like it’s been a long time since I shifted the Sablay from right to left. It was as if I knew this was bound to happen (but when you’re a UP student, you shouldn’t be so sure) that when it did, it really didn’t have such a big impact on me because I was already pre-occupied with adulting. Maybe it was just long overdue that I started the next chapter without this one being finished yet.

I know it’s too early to say, but I like where I’m at right now. I already have a time-table for the latter half of the year. My to-do list is still at page one, but it’s a pretty good list.

Save up 75% of 3 months worth of pay.
Get a place of my own.
Apply for a passport and visas for [insert countries here].
Start with a healthy diet.
(Maybe) Get a dog.
Invest.

It may seem a little ambitious, but there’s no harm in it. If anything, it’s a good thing because you’re motivated. My goals for this year are pretty attainable. The only challenging thing is the one that involves money because I am shit at budgeting and I splurge on food a lot. I’m really excited of where I would be by the end of this year. I can already see how much easier things would be for the family when I help-out every month. I can already imagine how my weekends would be if I have a place of my own. I am so excited to be independent!

So where am I going with this blog? I guess I just needed an avenue to talk about it because I sort of don’t with him. No, it’s not like I can’t talk to him about this. It’s more of me choosing not to talk to him about this because of how he may react. He’s very supportive, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes, whenever we talk about my plans and how excited I get (and I really do get exited because I’ve always wanted to be independent), he feels like I’m moving too fast and he can’t keep up. This doesn’t happen every time. There are just days when he would react this way and apologize and say he just misses me and that he wishes we could spend more time together.

From time to time, I get sweet texts from him about how much he’s happy of where I am and that he’s proud. And sometimes, I get texts of how lonely he feels that we spend less time together now than before. To be honest, I get more of the latter. The whole sitch may sound like a red flag to some, but I’m still not pushing for anything right now. I’m waiting it out to see how this goes.

But here’s the thing : he’s scared of me outgrowing him. Little does he know, I’ve already started. But my roots are still planted on us.

G-day

by avrillorenzo

So it’s 22 days ’til graduation and I am starting to feel a lot of things. I’ve been pretty emotional recently, what with not having anything to do but just lounge about. The majority of what I’m feeling isn’t really that pleasant. But maybe this is just a normal reaction to one chapter of your life ending.

I started school when I was 3 years old.. That makes it 20 years of learning. By the Gods and all the Deities, 20 years of learning! Some would just take around 16-18 years, but I just had to add a couple of years to that. I’m not ashamed by it, if anything I’m grateful. Because I learned a lot more, and not just about what I study but life too, in general.

This last year of school was the toughest I’ve ever gone through. A lot of things happened with family, friends and my boyfriend. There were more bad days than the good and I managed to get through every one. I am proud of myself, to be honest. I feel stronger. I guess that happens when your life’s in a ditch and you manage to get back on the drive way. Only problem is, you know yourself better and what you deserve.

That knowledge is the source of all the feelings I’ve been having recently. I’m at this point where I have to decide which aspects of this chapter do I bring with me to the next one, and which ones to leave.

I have to decide who and what are worth the lines in the next chapter of my life.

..and honestly, I’m scared.

I stayed

by avrillorenzo

I am finally writing about this because it’s been difficult moving on from this, but it’s been a long while since I did. I’m just writing about this now because we talked about it today and we found peace. Last year, he cheated on me. It’s not what you think, he didn’t sleep with her. He just tried with another girl only to prove that I’m the only one. Weird way of confirming that, right? If you really felt like you found the one, why would you try with someone else?

It all started when I had to work while studying at the same time. It was a pretty hard time for the family. My whole family suffered the onslaught of typhoon Yolanda way back 2013. And just as we were recovering from the damage and trauma, our house caught fire a year later. It was a really trying time for my family last year, what with my dad not having a stable job and my mom shouldering everything. Because of this, I had to find a way to support myself while on my last year at University. I didn’t get a part-time job. Nope, it was full-time and a night shift job, 21h until 6h. I only had one subject that semester, EL 199. But that didn’t make it easy with that being a subject for thesis.

Apart from all the fatigue, it took a toll on our relationship. He hated that he had to fall asleep without me on the other end of the line. He hated that by 21h, I would be hard to reach. I even blogged about how our situation rendered me tired. He hated that I wasn’t there… and she was. That’s how it all started.

I can’t go into detail about all of this because I have chosen to forget about it. Not because he asked me to, but rather to help myself. And let me tell you, it wasn’t easy. Their affair went on for 3 weeks. And every day of those three weeks, I wanted to leave. There were times when all I needed was one more step out the door, but he’d pull me back, crying and begging on his knees for me to stay. You can’t imagine the pain that I went through, carrying both mine and his during those times when he pleaded so much for me to give him one more chance with tears in his eyes. And it wasn’t just one time. It was a struggle because I felt like I had to choose, his pain or mine. There were times when I chose his and times when I chose mine.

Weeks, even months went by when we would end the day both tired and in tears, fighting over the same thing. I would relapse and he would try his best to help me get back to the present but he’d be taken to where I was and stop for a bit. He’d cry and tell me that he was more than his mistake and he’d ask me once more to focus on us, bringing us both back to the present with arms wrapped around each other.

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He tried, tries still to prove to me how much he regretted it. He continuously makes up for everything even though I’ve already forgiven him. He’d tell me how sure he was now that I’m the only one, the only one he wants and needs.
“It has been and will always be you.”
To be honest, I didn’t believe him before. And he knew I didn’t with every ‘I love you’ unreturned. It just didn’t make sense. He asked me not to make sense of it because it never mattered. It took a while, but I started believing in him again and I am now in awe of how he’s even more sincere with us, with me.

So here I am, still with him and happy. I have finally decided to focus on us which made it easier to leave the past behind. We’ve had it hard, what with people not believing in us anymore. But all that matters is our choice to be happy with each other and love each other better and more honestly. How a relationship ends up is all a matter of choice. And everything that happened between then and now were a series of choices which led us to where we are.

He chose to tell me the complete truth of how much of a mistake it was.

I chose to hear him out but not listen.

He chose to keep fighting for me even though I was letting go.

I chose to forgive.

He chose to build a better world for us.

I chose to stay.

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Selfish (Old Post ; March 29, 2014)

by avrillorenzo

He told me that it was unfair… Unfair that I’m not how I used to be; that how I am now with him is not how I was with the ones before him. He said it so bitterly that I had to furrow my brows together. I didn’t, don’t understand how that was unfair. Why would he want the old me? The sad, pathetic, clingy, dependent, desperate, and did I mention pathetic me? I personally believe that I am an upgrade from how I was before. Well for one, I know better. Then the rest is the whole cliché thing where I learned from my mistakes with the ones I was with before him. I know better, I feel better. No matter what will happen, I’ll still have my sanity in check.

I’ve never mulled over it ’til now because how I explained it to him was, dare I say it, romantic. And it was the right thing to say at that time, plus it was very logical. I asked him, “If that’s unfair, then would you rather have the me who was (insert ex’s name here)’s?” That made him understand and accept me better. He understands me better now. That’s a good thing.. Because at least one of us does.

Just a few minutes ago, something occurred to me that made the whole situation clearer for me. I didn’t understand how that was unfair until now. It’s unfair because he has seen how I was when I was with you. He saw how you were my world and I acted like it. He saw how it was possible for me to smile so much because of you. He saw how I loved you better every waking day when we were together. He saw me when I was whole.. And it was all because of you. All you.

I understand better now… because I feel like I’ll never be that way again. I see how that’s unfair.

Notes :

Me to Owen about Kevin.

Tired

by avrillorenzo

I can’t breathe.

There just too much going on and I’m having a hard time. I know I sound like I’m just whining and complaining like a wuss because other people have it harder than I do. But does that really take away my right to find things difficult? I’m just gonna stop worrying about that because I can’t handle it anymore.

I’m so tired.

I’m scared my thesis won’t pull through. Fuck, we haven’t even started and yet I’m already worried about this. I really like my proposed topic, but don’t know how to go about it. I’ve been reading, jumping from one proponent to another, and yet I’m still lost. There’s just so much pressure because this is my second and LAST chance with it. If I don’t pass, my life is ruined… and I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle that.

I started working recently. My only problem with it is time, it takes up too much of it. I guess I really couldn’t complain since the work is helping out with financial situations that I and my family are going through. But time is of the essence, all things considering; especially thesis and him. I make time. I distribute it evenly and make the most of it. But I feel like it’s not enough. He feels upset that we don’t get to spend time as much as we did before this whole fiasco. I do too. Dear God, I wish it was like before. I felt free, I had time, I felt like I can do a lot of things. But this reality is just getting so hard to face and I feel like I’m slowly losing grip of the only one who’s keeping me together.

We’ve been fighting a lot recently, crying. I lose sleep over it which is terrible because of how much of it I lose already. It’s just getting so hard to keep things together and I’m starting to feel alone. I’m not strong and I’m slowly losing it. My eyes hurt, my heart aches and I want to sleep but I can’t. I hate how whenever I make time, a bit of it is spent with us being upset or pissed. Why can’t we make the most out of it? I understand how he feels, really I do. Because if our roles were switched, if he was the one who had too much on his plate which would mean less time for me, I’d be damn upset too. But I would choose to make the most of the time that he’s going to give me. I’ll make sure that every time he’s with me, he’ll find his strength again. I’ll be his reminder that I can do it. I’ll be the one to tell him that it’s all okay. Even though it saddens me that he won’t have that much time for me like he used to, I won’t let that take over when I’m with him. He’s already having it hard as it is, why would I add to that? But that’s me, not him. I love who he is, how he is. But right now I’m having difficulty being strong enough for the both of us.

I can’t breathe.

Finalement

by avrillorenzo

Looking out to a crappy view of buildings blocking the sky at twilight, I stand on a stool behind you, with my arms wrapped around your neck. You are tall. “The only reason,” you start, “that I’m not asking you is because it was your birthday yesterday.” I shake my head. What does it matter really? My birthday yesterday, us today. “As long as we celebrate both separately, I’m okay with it.” You turn to face me, your face seemingly like a shadow with the light behind you. The room is dark. It takes me a couple of seconds before I get a better glimpse of your face. But then you hug me. I can feel it, with your lips pressed on my shoulder ; the words are there on the tip of your tongue, my heart starts to dance. You pull away, I cradle your face with my hands. You are divine. “I want you to be my girlfriend.” The look in your eyes made me want to cry. “Then ask me.” You look at me different, my heart stops. Everything is quiet and your lips start to move. “Will you be my girlfriend?” I lean in, you meet me halfway. I feel the tremble on your lips, and I think you feel the tremble of my knees.

“Yes.”

The crappy view, the dancing heart, the trembling knees : You are perfect. We are divine. I am tall.

20 février 2015
18h30
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The scary thing about perfection.

by avrillorenzo

You called me perfect and it scared me.

I fail to find the perfection that you claim I am. But you argue that I’m perfect for you and it scared me. Sleeping on it made me realize that. I don’t want to be perfect for you. I don’t want to be perfect at all. But worst of all, I don’t want to be perfect for you.

Everybody strives to be perfect, one way or another. There’s nothing more satisfying than to be told that you’re perfect with something. Perfection is possible with one thing, but not everything. Tangible evidence? Perfect test scores, perfect run of a dance routine, perfect output or report.. Perfection is possible, but perfection is subjective. It is never a natural thing. There are factors that lead to such a state and it’s very much dependent on the person who does it and the person who sees it. It’s all based on standards and preferences.

So why am I scared of being perfect for you when it’s such a good thing that I meet your standards and preferences? Because no matter how satisfying and amazing it is to be perfect for you, I don’t want that. I want to be imperfect. It may be that I am what you’re looking for, but I also want to be something you aren’t looking for. I want you to acknowledge my flaws and consider them as flaws. I need you to see the ugly side of me and understand that it will always be there.

Another thing… I think being perfect for you is selfish. Does that make sense? It probably doesn’t. You see, for me it’s as if being perfect is unfair for you in a sense that there isn’t a ‘you’ in the reason why you love me. I’m not sure how I can explain this better but let me try. I would prefer it if the reason why you loved me is because of how I make you feel, not with how I meet your standards. I’m not sure if it’s right to claim that as selfishness, but I feel selfish if you love me because I’m perfect for you. It’s all me, no us in the mix. I can’t articulate myself properly but I hope I got my point across. If not, then consider this an imperfection then: failing to articulate and rationalize a claim.

After all that I’ve said, the real reason why being perfect for you scares me is that perfect is boring. There’s nothing more to me because I’ve already met your standards, I’m exactly what you prefer. There’s nowhere to go from that. Excitement is lost as well. There’s no thrill in being perfect for you. And it scares me that you’ll end up getting tired of me because of that. I don’t want you to get tired of me. I would like it if you keep finding flaws and have them become endearing to you. I would like it if you see my imperfections yet fall in love with them still. Because I have a lot of flaws, so that means that you’ll keep falling in love with me.

That statement sounds selfish but it’s the truth. I would know because I keep finding something about you that veers away from my standards of perfection and I keep loving you more for it.

I keep falling even more for you.

14/04/14

by avrillorenzo

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I vividly remember the dream I had last night.

I was walking down a familiar route, the route which would lead me to where my friends hang-out: a stone table with benches. I had ‘meeting’ running through my mind while walking. When I got to my destination, I saw my friends at one side, and a few people who I didn’t know on the other. There was something like an invisible barrier between the two and it was only when I sat down that it broke and the two parties on either side started interacting.

I saw a pack of cigarettes. I even remember the brand: it was one of those cheap ones that you can get anywhere except for 7-11s. I was shocked to see who was holding the pack and offering it to a new friend I just made, who was sitting beside that person. Then, it was offered to me and I declined. All of a sudden, everybody stood up and moved to another stone table near by, except for me and that person.

It was you.

All of a sudden, my friends started teasing me and you were grinning at them. I was seriously confused as to how that could get such a reaction from you. When you turned back to me, your pack was gone and you were looking at me expectantly. I searched the bag I had with me and didn’t have my pack. So I told my friends that I was going to buy a pack and I asked you to come with me. You said yes and started walking away. Without even looking, I called you and told you to come back. I never got an answer. I continued to riffle through my bag, looking for something. I figure it was probably my wallet since I was to buy a pack of cigarettes. It probably took me a while since I remember repeating what I was doing, exactly from opening my bag to riffling through it to pulling my hand out. That happened around six times before somebody sat in front of me. When I looked up, it was you. You said, “I’m back.” I replied with, “You came back.” And you smiled and said, “Because you told me to and you waited.”

We were well on our way to buy a pack when the scene morphed to the grounds of my high school. We walked up to this one vendor who’s pretty popular back in my school and you asked for a pack of my cigarettes, not the one you were holding. While we were waiting for him to give us our purchase, you asked me if I still had some of the things you gave me. I immediately answered no and you were disappointed. You took out your wallet and opened it wide for me to see. The pocket where you put pictures in was vacant, not like what I was expecting: your picture with her. I thought you were going to pay for my pack so I started looking for my wallet. But then you tapped my shoulder and then took out a red and green yarn braided together. You dangled it in front of me and I smiled. You still had it.

Suddenly, we were walking back to where the stone tables were with the route I was on at the start of my dream. It rained but we weren’t hit by it. It was like we repelled rain drops so we were dry. I don’t know why, but I started walking faster, leaving you behind. All of a sudden, I stopped when I felt you grab my hand. I looked back at you and there was a slight change in your demeanor and appearance: your hair’s a little longer and you looked tired. You even had new clothes on. I felt a sort of panic and I’m not sure what from. But all of that disappeared when you said these three words. The three words that I last remember before waking up.

“Wait for me.”

What a dream. The weirdest thing about it was the fact that I knew what you were saying even though I didn’t hear you say them. I just saw your lips move and I just knew what you were saying. It was only then that I realized I forget what your voice sounds like. That’s probably the reason why I didn’t hear you say the words you said. And only then did I realize that I want to hear your voice.

I’m not sure how to interpret that dream. Dreams have a lot of interpretations. But the funny thing is, I’ve had a lot of dreams about you, some the same and some different. I still dream of you. But this is the first one that I’ve ever shared because maybe it meant something. Funny how I don’t actually have the things that you gave me anymore. That bit was probably the only truth in the dream. But you still had that thing, the yarn, which I doubt you do because you found it ridiculous and useless.

I’ll probably never know if you still have it. I’ll probably hear your voice and never know it’s yours. I’ll probably never know what you want me to do about you.

Probably.