It's been a while since I've last written here. No. "It's been a while" cannot even suffice for the time that I've denied my existence in the interwebs - and a lot has happened since then. Somehow, I'm still grateful that because of my blog, all is not lost.
I have mutated. And i can't even reiterate how much; like a neverending alliteration of sound. It's redundant. This blog, like among many other things, is part of the past now. I can resuscitate it - no doubt in that - but it would still be filled with bittersweet and corrupted memories that even death itself would not be able to erase. So I will just leave it be, floating in the vast universe of wires and binary numbers, until virtual reality itself decides whether to immortalize or not.
Words scream out of my screen, everything reeking with the smell of being an escapist. I'm amazed that I was able to survive the past. In a way, breaking free from my less-than-happy everyday life into this all-pink-kawaii-larger-than-life-reality helped me cope. It gave me hope. It lead me into believing that making yourself believe you are happy would someday, somehow, make your make-believe come true.
Gone were the highschool days where "the dark" was the imagined reality, and the all-pink-cheesy stuff was the real deal.
Life could be really harsh at times; with an in-your-face way of teaching you the important things. I was the model of imperfect perfection. The always-smiling goody-goody girl and girlfriend. The working student who helped her boyfriend through college while still maintaining badass grades. Eventually though, like all the animate things in the planet, the life that fed on life itself, started to decay. The hidden layers started to show. The flaws that I have worked so hard in concealing began to surface. I knew the hey-days were nearing their end. I wasn't ready. I will never be. I've built that image, that life, that relationship, to be perfect. Immortal. Immaculate.
But with everything going one-way, every detail delivered by a one-man-show, every brick from the tower built by a singular's blood, sweat, and tears - t h e v e r y l a s t s t r a n d o f r e m a i n i n g h o p e eventually gave in.
Needless to say, I was devastated. I came from a different world, but I managed to survive this new world that I have built for myself. It became my comfort zone. And just when I was starting to believe that somehow I might make it through without anyone noticing that everything's a joke, I found myself spiraling out of the world beneath inches of thick security blankets, I myself quilted.
I was kicked out of the world that I created that in turn created me. The new me. The perfect me. The perfect-joke-me. None was left. Not even a crumb to pick up. Like being dumped from your own home in the middle of the night, naked, devoid of any sense of property. At some point, I even became doubtful of my identity.
Fortunately, that dark era is now but a chapter of my life's second book. At the moment, I'm nearing the end of it, readying myself to write the first few chapters of the third one. I had to pick myself up somewhere right? And when you're DOWN there, there's no other way but up.
Learning was always a fascination so I enrolled myself to a Master's Degree in Art History to continue the academic line from my undergraduate degree. I worked as a college instructor and relished living life the way it should be lived.
Currently, I am being sidetracked from my ideal lifestyle because of a few financial hurdles my family encountered along the way - but that remains as it is - a mere sidetrack. A sweet sidetrack where I've met the partner to my main track. This time he is not (and not going to be) my definition of perfect. There will never be a definition of perfection because that is a state that will never be achieved. Even the "imperfect-but-perfect-for-each-other" idea is just crap; and take this from my almost-a-decade-life-experience.
There will be a someone though who will be your definition of happiness. You guys will be far from perfect. Do not even make yourself believe that you were made for each other, because the truth is, you are made for you, and he is made for him. You will not complete each other because you will forever be two separate entities, living life as a neverending journey to completion and contentment. There are times that he is going to be paranoid, and you are going to be insecure. Every one is going to see and acknowledge the faults that are to mar your not-so-perfect relationship, just like any not-so-perfect-average-mortal-made relationship. You are going to go through hell - the worst that life has to offer both of you. But you are going to go through these together. One step at a time. Winning every battle with a smile. Conquering every mile with a laugh or two. You won't need each other to be happy, but you are going to be each other's most reliable source of elation. And believe me when I tell you that you are going to find other sources every once in a while, but in the end, it's all going to boil down to this question: Will you really settle for just a bite at life, when you could revel and marvel in all of the things that it has to offer?