So much for job hunting. Yesterday, I broke my Sweetie's heart and it felt oh so bad.
I already mentioned that I am resigning and I'm tagging him along as well, ne? Well, doomsday is about to come (I call it more of Salvation Day, harhar) and of course we have to have a job ASAP -- y'know, responsibilities, responsibilities! So off we went to Dear Old Mommy and asked for referral. We applied in this big tough pharmaceutical firm, without realizing and knowing what we are getting ourselves into. Of coursed, we passed the qualifying exam (with a combined IQ of 140? who are you kidding, hehe!) and we already passed the 2 sets of interviews. This company is really tough, and we still have to go through a total of 4 interviews -- and so far we already went through the 3rd interview. Was it a blast? I think so, for me. But not for him.
He thought he blew it. I'm really frustrated and sad and depressed for him, but I didn't know what to do. He keeps on blaming himself for being such a bummer at the interview and I couldn't help but be disappointed. I wanted to poke my little index finger at him and tell him that he should be more optimistic and pleasant, but I couldn't. God, how I wanted to console him, put my arms around him and tell him it's going to be ok. But I can't. I just kept quiet all throughout because I know that one wrong line would totally snuff him out. Arrrrrrggghhhh. So much for being idealistic me.
Can't help but blame myself, either. In the first place, I was the one who prodded him to try this out and put my Mom's name as his reference because I know she's a bigshot in the industry and would help him somewhat but turns out the other way. This company has this sick policy that if you're married and both employed with them, one has to go. They can't help scrutinizing the fact that we're "lovers" and jumps into this stupid conclusion that we're gonna marry somehow (which is wishful thinking for me, *chuckles*). Anyway, I think it's partly Sweetie's fault too because when asked how he knew my mom, he told them it's his girlfriend's mother. Damn. If this was another case, I'd be more than happy to accept the fact that he finally had the guts to tell others that (and that would put an end to my eternal question: Where do I stand?) but this is anotehr case. When he informed me what he told them, I didn't know what to say, how to react. I was happy, yes, but I know the truth: I am never his girlfriend and he would never love me. And it would always boil down to the fact that I, Mariko, am just another of his passing fancy. Bullshit.
What was my motive? Why did I tag him along? I wanted him to build a career, wanted to get him a job so he would be able to make his ends meet. I wanted to help him, and let him succeed in life. Nevermind about me. I know I could always fend for my self, but before I go, I wanted him to be in A-ok condition. I wanted to be sure that I'll be leaving him perfectly fine and doing great in his life.
Sigh.
We ended up having dinner in G-belt and talked about it. Talked about some things as well, and perspectives on love and life. Can't help getting hurt from what I knew, but life must go on. I already resigned myself to the fact that after a few months from now I will be a part of his past. Another girl of his past. Another passing fancy, another one who loved him so well.
At least, I got to know him as him. At least, even for just a short time I was able to love him... at least I got Little Sweetie. It doesn't matter to me now where this road will lead us to, but I'll just savor each and every moment I am with him.
The time will come when I have to go. And I shouldn't cry --- again.
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Bring my heart back
Everyday seems more and more hopeless.
Where is the drive? Where is the old Mariko I used to know? She was hidden somewhere out there, in the stacks of boredom and ecstasy piled high in a room of probabilities and impossibilities. I can't believe that all of this is happening to me right now --- suddenly, I am at a lost. I don't know where I am going, what am I doing and who the hell I really am.
Yeah, fuck it. Fuck it badly, man.
What do I really want to do? It's like Shakespeare's "To be or not to be" line, and in this crossroad that I am trying to traverse, I cannot hit two birds with one stone.
Let's start off with the biggest shock of my life:
Today, I visited one of my friends' blog. It has been quit some time since I last posted something here so I was damn excited to browse, browse and browse. And lo and behold! HE posted something in the tagboard of the dear ol' friend. Fuck, man. The last thing I wanted is for him to find out about THIS blog. I don't want him to know how I feel. Princess Tutu, some shit this is! And who's the "Angelica" who posted something on the tagboard? Uh-oh. I don't wanna be paranoid, but it's eating me up...
Next ---
I'm resigning. Good Lord Gracious, I want my ass out badly on that goddamn company. Lord, I know I'm not a good girl but please don't let me stay in that hell anymore. I've had enough mental, emotional and physical torture and the last thing I wanted is to let my dreams crumble away in the fires of that office. Dante's Inferno would be put to shame by that company. I still haven't talked to Dear Miss Team Manager yet, and I do hope she agrees.
Every day that I have a shift, I have to literally drag myself out of bed. And I always don't feel good. The demons in that office are worse than I am. Please please please I want to be out. As much as possible, I want to be out NOW.
Little Sweetie.
The darn little munchkin is eating me up alive! I developed this habit of watching those cheesy soaps in Channel 2 and believe me, it must be those raging hormones that drive my tears to above sea level. There are times when I hate Little Sweetie, but there are times when I would succumb to the thought of taking care of him and cherishing him. Well, I think it depends on the way the father treats me. And speaking of which, lately I don't think that he treats me okay. I understand that he has more important things to do than sit up, cuddle up and do those fuzzy wuzzy shit but oh well.
How long would you sacrifice, Mariko? You've always been the self-sacrificing devil that you are, always believing in ever-afters and silver stars. Moonbeams are not from the moon, my dear. And don't expect that all the missing pieces of your lost heart will be returned to you. If you must, you should continue living alone and dance in the infinite sadness of the song that plays in your head.
I don't know where all this is leading to. Maybe he already knows. I wanted to prove that I am strong, but deep inside I am weak. My strength comes from the knowledge that I must continue to fight, half the battle is not yet won. This is just the beginning, and I already lost myself completely.
Bring me back my heart.
Where is the drive? Where is the old Mariko I used to know? She was hidden somewhere out there, in the stacks of boredom and ecstasy piled high in a room of probabilities and impossibilities. I can't believe that all of this is happening to me right now --- suddenly, I am at a lost. I don't know where I am going, what am I doing and who the hell I really am.
Yeah, fuck it. Fuck it badly, man.
What do I really want to do? It's like Shakespeare's "To be or not to be" line, and in this crossroad that I am trying to traverse, I cannot hit two birds with one stone.
Let's start off with the biggest shock of my life:
Today, I visited one of my friends' blog. It has been quit some time since I last posted something here so I was damn excited to browse, browse and browse. And lo and behold! HE posted something in the tagboard of the dear ol' friend. Fuck, man. The last thing I wanted is for him to find out about THIS blog. I don't want him to know how I feel. Princess Tutu, some shit this is! And who's the "Angelica" who posted something on the tagboard? Uh-oh. I don't wanna be paranoid, but it's eating me up...
Next ---
I'm resigning. Good Lord Gracious, I want my ass out badly on that goddamn company. Lord, I know I'm not a good girl but please don't let me stay in that hell anymore. I've had enough mental, emotional and physical torture and the last thing I wanted is to let my dreams crumble away in the fires of that office. Dante's Inferno would be put to shame by that company. I still haven't talked to Dear Miss Team Manager yet, and I do hope she agrees.
Every day that I have a shift, I have to literally drag myself out of bed. And I always don't feel good. The demons in that office are worse than I am. Please please please I want to be out. As much as possible, I want to be out NOW.
Little Sweetie.
The darn little munchkin is eating me up alive! I developed this habit of watching those cheesy soaps in Channel 2 and believe me, it must be those raging hormones that drive my tears to above sea level. There are times when I hate Little Sweetie, but there are times when I would succumb to the thought of taking care of him and cherishing him. Well, I think it depends on the way the father treats me. And speaking of which, lately I don't think that he treats me okay. I understand that he has more important things to do than sit up, cuddle up and do those fuzzy wuzzy shit but oh well.
How long would you sacrifice, Mariko? You've always been the self-sacrificing devil that you are, always believing in ever-afters and silver stars. Moonbeams are not from the moon, my dear. And don't expect that all the missing pieces of your lost heart will be returned to you. If you must, you should continue living alone and dance in the infinite sadness of the song that plays in your head.
I don't know where all this is leading to. Maybe he already knows. I wanted to prove that I am strong, but deep inside I am weak. My strength comes from the knowledge that I must continue to fight, half the battle is not yet won. This is just the beginning, and I already lost myself completely.
Bring me back my heart.
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