Sunday, March 18, 2007

regression or progression?

#1 : At the risk of sounding like a twelve-year-old I announce to the world that --- I CLEANED MY ROOM! :)

Regular readers of this blog will get what this signifies. After months of not being able to enter my room without frowning or hurting myself, I blaggered (an invented word, sorry) it all up and now it's spic and span! Sure, I did not make it through without the dramatic moments. At one point I was hitting the window screen with a broom in the pretense of dusting it off. But I guess my screaming "Ang daya daya daya niyo!!! Bakit kayo nang-iwan!##%!!" gave my real feelings away. I came across my parents' photos and memorabilias I didn't want to see and true enough, it hurt, but --- I have filed, separated, segmented, categorized everything there. Now, I believe I can say that I've cleaned up my act and I'm ready to move on.

#2 : At the risk of sounding like a fourteen-year-old, I also announce that ---- I DID MY LAUNDRY!!!

I love doing the laundry anyhow. It's that proximity to water which makes it enjoyable for me. I don't care if I get soaked, because at least, the water's cool. The nice thing about doing laundry today is that, I washed my new clothes and I'm excited about wearing them. I read somewhere that a good start to moving on is to make yourself feel happy. And if you feel pretty, you feel happy. (Well, we can be temporary narcissists during the coping period, right?) I might have taken that advice to heart a bit too well. I'm grieving, but I don't need to dress up in ashes, right? Mummy and Daddy would have wanted us to show our strong face to the world. And yes, our pretty faces as well. How will people remember them happily through us, if they can hardly bear to look at us without feeling a pang of remorse and pity? I'm even enrolling in a gym class so I can finally achieve their dream of seeing me slimmer. Para naman may mapagyabang sila sa langit, diba?

#3: And finally, at the risk of sounding like a sixteen-year-old, I declare, although hesitantly, that maybe I CAN STILL FALL IN LOVE.

Yes, I have been a world-class fool before, and I still redden with humiliation every time I remember my antics before, but what if we give ourselves some time, give ourselves some space, give ourselves a chance to change our minds? But, I suppose, the best thing about it is that I am finding the courage to ask again: What if?

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