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The semester is almost over but it was only
lately that I realized the value and the sanctity of that one hour in the
afternoon every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I never realized that even Dio,
the ever diligent person in disturbing me during my free periods, would think
twice about disturbing me in this holy hour.
After a nose-bleeding lecture from Sir
Estoconing ((whom I just have noticed to be fond of calling my male classmates
rather than the females for reasons now I think is obvious)), a broad smile was
drawn in my face when I faced at my two seatmates, Cha-Cha and Vivien, as they
motion me outside the room, down the fearsome slippery ramp and to the modern
architecture of the CBA lobby. A typical MWF day, another hour, I think to myself.
Sometimes we are silent.
Sometimes we talk.
Sometimes we eat.
But no less we enjoy—-the sliding of our
finances, the comfortable silence and the expense of our saliva flying off to
Small—enough for three people.
Fronted at the entrance—-
A good site to observe people.
Just this afternoon, about 3 hours ago
referring to typing time and not in uploading entry time, Vivien was talking
about her guys.
She broke up with this guy who was working
in Cebu—-the guy was in disbelief
((psychology term: denial)) but the conversation went like this…
“I don’t want to be with a guy who does not
have time for me—-
—who won’t text me
—who won’t visit me here at least once a
“But I’ve given you everything.
Money, when you ask for it.”
“It’s not about the money—
There’s a guy here courting me
And I’m planning on accepting him soon
I really like him a lot.
So, let’s break up.”
I then remembered to myself that I used to
be that kind of girl
—-minus the tendency to be drunk
—-minus the party girl attitude
—-minus the fact that she asked money from
her boyfriend when she was already entertaining a suitor
—-minus the carefree attitude
—-she had a lot of sins, but I still like
her. Like, duh, who has no sins?
I used to be like her—
—I used to be so strong in my decisions
—when everything was not in balance, I
—I leave part of me without a tear.
I am different now
—I am afraid
Is this an effect of being properly educated?
Is this an effect of trauma from all the
past things that happened?
I am afraid of many things
—-but so more when it comes to
I am afraid that
—I never noticed that I am abused
—or whether I am
—I never noticed if I had left him alone
—or I’ve given him
too much attention
Do I overcalculate?
Or am I just being normal?
should stop talking about this.