It's snowing again. As I write this I am wailing... *sob*

It’s not what you think. And it’s definitely not what I want it to be.

Let’s just say that today is officially the day that I am happy that I am in this country. It’s been what... four months since I arrived and it has been such a depressing time with winter and all. Having seen and experience snow was awesome, the first time. When it snows everyday and it’s cold everyday the cold and barrenness of my surroundings weighs down on my soul. Having no Zs makes it, at times, unbearable I want to kill myself. 

I used to think that I hold no ties in the Philippines (Tanduay Girl and her family is an exception) but today made me realize that I have a peculiar attachment to my country which is the warmness of my surroundings. Strange. I do not know why I was elated today when I was able to go out without gloves, wear my boots and just a Columbia jacket. I didn’t realize how much I miss wearing tank tops and shorts outside until I opened the door and took a walk out as the sun beat down the snow covered roofs. As my boots stepped on asphalt and not snow and my eyes swept across the street without any spec of snow or ice I was euphoric. This may seem farcical (I find it absurd myself) but heck! The sun is here. I want it to stay. Because for some strange reason it took me out of my depression.

Today, I am most certain of one thing. I am a racist. How much of a racial bigot I am, I am not certain. 

Since I’ve gotten here last October I’ve heard it said by my fellow Filipinos that Canadians are lazy. I’ve heard that statement being said by my German colleagues too. I try not to dwell on it. I get pretty worked up if people accuse me or put labels over me so I’ve lived the Golden Rule on that area... I don’t tag people because I don’t want to be tagged.

But despite all the years I’ve avoided tagging people, once in awhile an exception happens. Today happens to be that day when that exception occurred. For sure, this deviation did not happen in a snap. Knowing myself, I believe that it has grown over time. Every stony look she gave me. Every snide comment she dropped at me. Every smart ass instruction she threw at me was like being slapped. And when her destructive criticism became too dramatic and inappropriate I felt my mind shift to a defensive position. If it were not my years of experience locking my thoughts in my mind I would not have been able to stop my mouth shout “you fucking superior German bitch!”

Those words made me stop and ask why did I put the word “German”!?! I have a handful of German friends, and these people I have never thought ill of before or now. But then here comes one woman who happens to be German and thinks she’s the best at work has no manners, wants to be pampered, has no sense of professionalism making me sooo angry that I say her nationality with repulsion. The thing is... when I think about my other German friends I do not feel any bit acrimonious. But when my mind remembers her I feel so angry I want to hurt her and erase that arrogant look she gives me (too physical, tsk!). She brings out the violent side of me. And I know that I can complain about her so she can be written up and get fired.

Yet I won’t complain. I’m not masochistic. Erhmmm... Okay, I am --- in some areas, but not on this one. I won’t complain because the truth is, I’ve gotten to the point when I don’t give a damn. She can be the same bitch she wants and knows how to be and I’ll just look at her like she’s a paramecium. 

What I am more engrossed about is finding out how much of a racist am I. The answer to that than when will I be rid of that German bitch is more worthwhile. Strange that I will discover parts of me this way. Strange that when my mind was shouting those words I felt no shame or guilt. I guess I've been a racist all my life...just dormant and the racist in me just get’s triggered when the wrong combinations are pushed.

thank you.

thank you for your comfort. thank you for your silence. thank you for the words you say and write. thank you for making me laugh. thank you for, no matter how awkward, you sit quietly and wait until my tears stop falling and my sobs are quieted. thank you for never judging the time I left no matter how lost you were. thank you for not accusing me of not listening to you beg me to stay and not leave. thank you for holding my hand when we walk even at the age when people with the same age as you would find it uncool. thank you for the saying things that hurt because it is true and I needed to hear it. thank you because no matter how much I feel unloveable even the thought of you gives me joy that there is one person in this world that loves me for me...no strings attached. 

i’m sorry too. 

sorry for not giving you memories of a great sister. sorry for being too selfish and not caring if I cut you with my pride. sorry for not protecting you from the 3rd mate and his cruelty. sorry for not being able to discern that you were affected that Tanduay Girl was marrying so young...i thought you couldn’t grasp the implications yet of her pregnancy. sorry for putting a heavy yoke upon your shoulders and be the one to aspire the dream the General had for me and Tanduay Girl. sorry for not being able to teach you how to cook and cook really really good. sorry for shocking and confusing you the first time you saw me light my first fag and take a drag. sorry I rode a motorcycle with you and crashed it. sorry I gave you chicken pox when you were only one. sorry for not being able to have the chance to do a lot girly stuff with you like shopping for shoes, ogling at cute boys, watching movies, partying, going to the spa, going to the parlor to have hair and nails done. sorry for being away even if I was there physically. sorry for all the things I have said and not said that made you wonder if I cared for you. sorry for the things I have done and not done that made you believe that I really don’t love you. i had reasons but now they hold no meaning when I realize that I have left you scarred, beaten, broken, and cynical.

i love you.

i’ve said it many times, or maybe not enough, nevertheless, I want to tell you I love you. words will never capture the love I feel for you. the thought of you living and breathing is so much to be thankful of. from the very day I first saw you inside an incubator being wheeled by a nurse from the OR you were my anchor in the storms I went through which is why I’ve never gone down and drowned. seeing your tiny form as you slept inside that incubator I had decided that I will bleed and die first before I see you get hurt which is odd because I was only ten. and I want to tell you now that I will suffer through all hell if it is for you. because with you in my life I’ve strived to be the best me that I can be. and losing you will be losing the meaning of my existence.

I remember when I was a kid my dad would tickle me until I can’t breathe I’d think I was dying or my dad was trying to kill me. I didn’t know some tequila shots with this video would give me the same feeling...

My friend, Honie, and I had been video conferencing the other day. It’s such a relief to just be myself and talk freely. It is hard to bottle up emotions and when I had a chance to talk to my friend it seemed my emotions started overflowing. My friend’s presence seemed like mentos dropping in my simmering soda-like emotions and there is no other way for bubbles to go but out. Innocently she asked me what plans I have on Saturday. This got me confused. What is the big deal about Saturday anyway so I asked. She looked at me like I’ve been on drugs and smiled amusedly. I pressed F12 on my computer and a quick glance at the calendar on my Dashboard revealed the obvious. Saturday is Valentine’s Day. Joy.

I’m not against Valentine’s Day. I’m happy for people who have people they can spend it with. But that is a lie. Deep inside, I am jealous.  On this one day the reality of my singleness gets uncomfortable. It seems I’m the odd one. The square peg among round holes. Of course I know that there are so many singles out there just like me - singles without partners or whose Facebook status is not “In a Relationship”. And at the same time I know that there are a lot of coupled people there who wish they were single. But this would just be me turning lemons into lemonade. Deep inside I want to be with someone. 

But then again, I’ve been with someone. Not just even with someone. I was with two. The first I cheated on. And the latter I had the affair with. The first left me. And the latter saw through me. Both I loved equally. But both are not meant to be. Of course I think of things like what if I didn’t cheat, why can’t he love me, how can I forget them. But all these thoughts are futile. One way or the other, each of them has an uncanny ability to come back and remind me of the love I lost and the love I wished for. When they come back unintentionally bringing the memories with them it picks on the wounds I try to heal already. I feel that all the painful memories the wounds in my heart has caused it to fester and all I have left is an organ full of holes big and small like Swiss cheese. Something that resembles a heart but not, which makes me wonder why it hasn’t crumbled yet.

I know the best thing for me to do is move on. I had been thinking about this for quite sometime. How can I get over an addiction if I keep coming back? And why do I come back when circumstances are not meant to change for my benefit? So I started to subtly disengage myself from T and him. I have been quite successful though difficult. After all it’s quite easy to avoid people but entirely different avoiding my own thoughts. There are some distractions that help but it can only help me during the day. It is quite harder to escape my thoughts when I lie on my bed waiting for sleep. But even sleep does not give me a break as dreams turn into nightmares with me ending in more pain as my hysterical screams wake me up only to be faced again by a deluge of my own memories. So I force myself to sleep again. Waiting for a dreamless sleep which I will never wake up from or wake up but not remember anything about the two of them.

But like all my wishful thinking Fate has a way of turning it against me and laugh as it looks at my pained expression... The other day T asked if I was avoiding him. Today I get a parcel with a letter from him telling me he hopes I am not sad.

I know they both mean well. But if they do really mean well then I believe the best thing for me right now is be left alone. They shouldn’t talk to me. They shouldn’t be curious and wondering how I am because personally it’s not their damn business anymore. For the record, I feel sad but only when their memories arrest the great feelings I have. I feel lost when they come back and haunt me with the ghosts of our past and the eerie questions of what ifs. So I feel a stronger resolve to get over this rut and move forward.

Valentine’s Day is just another reminder of how alone and hollow I feel right now. I am quite optimistic that soon, if I keep on avoiding the things that bring back the pain a point will come when I will be able to pick myself up, brush off the painful memories and it would allow me to look forward to a time when I am most comfortable that I am single, unattached, and so what!?!

Since there's not help, come let us kiss and part;
Nay, I am done, you get no more of me;
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free;
Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we, one jot of former love retain.
Now, at the last gasp of love's latest breath,
When his pulse failing, passion speechless lies,
When faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And innocence is closing up his eyes,
Now, if thou woulds't, when all have given him over,
From death to life Thou might'st him yet recover.