Healing. Peace of Mind. A new lease on life.

And I write with all my body, my heart, my soul. Everything that I am. All the passion and fire that is left.

Please, Lord. It is not easy when I know everything is wasting away. A deep black hole is growing within the universe of my being. And it sucks all. It kills all.

I did it, midnight prior to my departure. Perhaps a good time to do it: as one departs, one says goodbye.

Since then, I felt some thing deep down actually changed. I still feel sad. But the better way to describe it is feeling uprooted from someone I’ve always anchored my life with.

A few minutes ago, we met at lunch. It was casual: a usual handshake, called him by his nickname, ate at the same table with someone who doesn’t have a clue. But that was it.

Never thought that it was not this bad. Goodbyes may sometimes feel like it is the end of everything. But it isn’t. The finality in goodbye is a myth.

Don’t know what is happening to me.

Awhile ago, I was like a teenager in love. I was not in my ordinary self when I took her out for dinner and coffee. She invited me for wall climbing and had been quite insistent. I found myself losing track of the time. I was enjoying the conversation. I was conscious though about what people would say.

How I wished I was somewhere else. Where I could start a new life. Where they are more kairos than chronos. When time just stops moving.

How I wished I could be someone else.

However, there was something I was not comfortable with. It was the atmosphere of pretension; the world of show business went from exciting to stale. Somehow it had lost some of its flavors. I wanted to be close to many of the celebrities. But now, as I become one of them, I desire to just slip out of the crowd and go to a simple place to rest or read a book.

When we got out of the movie event, we had a very late dinner and coffee. The conversation would often be about our individual love life. They were very vocal about their relationships. They were telling me to try out a more intimate relationship. They told me that I should not be afraid.

Then both of them remarked that hit me: they could not imagine themselves growing old with a partner.

The opposite was what struck me: But I could, and sometimes wish I had.

But with my status now, I can’t. The one I love may not feel the same way or will be too afraid to own me. And so, at this time, WE can’t.

I want someone to be with me until I die. Nothing beats that. 

He proposed two areas to cover. One in Iloilo. The other in Manila. Or both. Whatever fits my schedule.

But for this purpose, that is not important.

My heart dropped when I felt that he did not believe in what I can do. He once said that I was meant to be with the creatives, and not with administration. I felt the same thing today. I wanted to train trainors, but do not believe that I can be that.

So I need to make a proposal. Put everything in writing. In other words, write my future.

Nothing beats writing what’s on the horizon. Do I actually have something ahead of me, apart from what I know. Am I really into this mission thing?

I want to forge my own destiny. And no one determines it.

Except God of course.

But somehow it ended last night. Seeing the choir master and her choir attending our show, I felt no resentment and greeted her warmly. Having the one who bestowed a project to another there, I casually went up to her and talked to her. It was her mother who was very nice to me who saved the day. Finally, the one who criticized our work also showed up at the concert, supporting us. That was great: sometimes we have to collaborate. The best way to subdue an enemy is to befriend them.

So I felt some disturbing things just ended. Good for them.

And good for me.

That was what it took for me to be at peace.

Funny how a few words can comfort us.

And how we can be hurt without them.

It is time then to pack.

This time without the heavy heart.

He never called or texted. Usually he responds late in the evening. And often once a day. He has a prepaid card, I know. But when he transfered to another service, I am not sure whether it is still prepaid or postpaid.

I have sent several text messages. I sent a group text: a general invitation for a nite-out with former colleagues. And there was not response. Not a single word.

I am wondering, and yes, worrying about what happened. Is something wrong between us? Have I done something not right? Am I pissing him off? And these questions, unless answered, are killing me. At the very least, a text (or just a word perhaps) will bring me peace.

My mind is beginning to wonder about another scenario. What if this is the end? What if he will call it quits? That is truthfully what I dread.

But I imagine saving myself. I put on a smile and say, “Wow, I have been waiting for this moment because I actually don’t find our relationship going somewhere!”

Who am I fooling?  His thought wakes me up in the morning and puts me to bed in the evening. At the end of the day, I — and only myself — know who matters.

I am like a vampire: all of my life is being sucked dry. And I have become bloodthirsty. This is what I am scared about: I don’t want to be one of those needy and attached guys. I don’t want to be paralyzed by clingy relationships. I am scared now, because I feel I am getting into that direction.

The momentum has already started. I have to put on the brakes.

To lounge with a book in hand, a freshly brewed coffee, and perhaps some spicy peanuts. Away from the crowd.

But I can’t be away from the noisy throng of students studying for midterms.

I can’t get away from my heart that yearns for someone.

Even if I escape and run to the most distant universe.

Some things just stays. Some things just bugs you wherever you are.

And it’s not pleasant.