il bel far niente

Hello, my dear blog. Aren't you glad I'm kinda back? Yes, I know, I haven't been around lately. I'm sorry for that. But believe me when I say not even you would want me around at the time that I've not been. Because, I don't know. Maybe I'd only be redundantly and overly dramatic over some fact we both know is as steady as steel. One post is enough, isn't it?

So what have I been doing during those times that I have chosen to neglect you? Frankly, nothing much.

Well, you know I've quit working (I told you, right? But if I didn't, well, now you know.) in that mad slaughterhouse of a company. Not a lot of hard feelings there, just blatant truth. I'm not ready to die for them, to be succinct about it.

Now, I'm looking for a new job. This time, it's harder. Because hey, I have my reservations now against companies of the same skin as my old employer's. Or not, entirely. I just want to make sure that my second job would be kinder to me, that's all.

Also, I've been through life-related news these past few weeks. The start and end of a life, whether or not it's closely related to you, is harder to comprehend than I've thought it would be. I still don't understand, and I think I won't for a real long time. I can't even say it's good that these aren't happening directly to me or I'd go nuts. Because, honestly, I'd rather they happen to me than to them. But life has its reasons, that much we know.

I'm pausing a lot, to tell you, to think of what else to tell you. I cannot be sure if my mind has simply gone blank or nothing worth talking about is occurring in my life now. Or maybe I have developed indifference anew. Maybe I don't care anymore. Again, like before.

But I hope not. Seriously. I find my surroundings more interesting when I pry and look at them with more than a passing glance, really.

It's going to be Christmas soon, dear. And I'm sad and happy at the same time. Happy because it's Christmas, after all. Time for presents and merry greetings. But sad because . . . well, because even if I do get a job before that I still wouldn't have 13th month pay. (That is sad, 'kay?)

*big sigh*

That's enough for now, blog. (Sometimes, I think it would be easier for us if you get a nickname. What do you think?) I promise to brood and contemplate deeper so I'd get to write about more substantial stuffs to you.

But for the time being, let's enjoy il bel far niente.

Translated Transcript

She: So, what's up? You surprise me sometimes.

He: I wanted to tell you something important

She: So I felt.

He: You do know what November is for me, right?

She: Your birthday, how can I forget.

He: Next year will be more important.

She: Because you're getting married?

He: You know already?

She: I guessed. But I know you more than enough that my guesses usually come true.

He: Maybe. You're right.

She: I see. Good for you.

He: You're the first person I've ever told.

She: I'm not coming. I'm telling you now before you even ask.

He: You don't want to?

She: I do. But I cannot. I can play godmother to your child all you want. But that's the best I can offer. That's all I can give. Nothing more. And definitely not this one.

He: I understand. Although of course I'd be happier if you're there.

She: I know. But after all I've given up just to make you happy? I don't think you're being fair. I can't, that's final. I have myself to love, you know.

He: Do you think all of these would happen if we ended up together?

She: Of course not. I can't give you what she's given. I can't be what she is now, not even for you. Not then, not now, and not in the nearest future.

He: But I wouldn't have asked you those. I know you two are different. I would have settled. Things would have been different had you given it a chance.

She: I came back. You know I did. But there was nothing waiting for me.

He: I didn't know you would.

She: Nor did I, to be honest. I didn't know I would, or that I could.

He: I should have waited.

She: No, you shouldn't. You did the right thing, moved on. Now, after everything, after the pain, I know what you did was right. Because even if you waited and I did come back, it wouldn't last long. I wouldn't last long. And I would have hurt you again. More than I did when I shunned you. And I would be in more pain than I was before. And who knows, that might be sacrificing what little friendship had remained now. This, what we have right now, this would be gone. I wouldn't like that.

He: Maybe.

She: You're my bestfriend. And you'll always be. Maybe you're tired from hearing that, but it's true. And someday, we both would be thankful we stayed that way, that we didn't risk it.

He: I'm already thankful for that.

She: Then you shouldn't really be asking me what-ifs.

He: Sorry.

She: So that's all?

He: Will you think about it?

She: Coming? No. I already said no.

He: Then I'll just see you on my birthday.

She: This year?

He: Yes.

She: Okay. See you.

Just This Once

Please stop asking me what's next. I don't have a list of what I can do. And frankly, I don't think the world has one for me either. I only have a list of what I want to do, which as you have made a bit clearer, is not good enough.

I know I've failed. In so many ways one can put it, I have failed. But that doesn't mean I will again if I get the chance. I am not born a failure. Whatever you think on the subject of my intellect, I am not as stupid as you call me.

Please give me another chance. Please stop giving me your options, not because I don't want them but because I can't do them. There is a difference between choices and dreams. I am living off choices right now. I have been living off them ever since I can remember.

No regrets, no hard feelings. Love makes choices bearable, that I always believe in. So I daresay my choices were, are, will always be bearable. Sometimes, with so much love backing those choices up, they even make me happy.

But please, this time, let me at least start thinking about chasing my dreams. At least, give me the chance to hope that maybe, just maybe, my dreams are worth working hard for. That's all I ask.

I ask that you give me this, not as a form of returning what I have given, but as an indication that you believe in  me. And that you love me enough to set me free.