Choices

For the sake of my future self, I write this entry to serve as a reminder that not all happy things stay that way. No matter how perfect things may seem, everything and anything comes to a close. It is up to each and one of us to cast our own cards in the gamble of life. All of us, at one point in our lives, need to make a choice, and it is by choices that we rise above being just victims of destiny and circumstance.

It isn't uncommon for a person like me to meet someone through online means. It was in the internet I met my boyfriend, Iyhan. He was my very first partner, and I felt very happy and lucky to be with a person like him. Knowing him more, he has overcome a lot of trials and obstacles in his life. His strong eyebrows reflected his strong spirit and personality: I felt very secure in the strength he carried around him whenever we were together. As each day passed, I fell in love in him again and again. The more I knew about him, the more I wanted to be with him. I felt so reassured that he will never let anything sad happen to the both of us because he has stood time and time again after each and every fall he took.

I felt safe and secure whenever we're together. That was what mattered that time.

A few months passed, I started to change not for the better, but perhaps for the worse for both of us. I became increasingly irritable and moody. Being a person who valued personal time and space, I felt that I no longer have time for myself. It was as if everywhere I looked, he was there. I was so desperate that I asked him to give me some space and time alone, and that he did. Three months into our relationship, we broke up, only for me to go back to him two weeks later saying that I couldn't do it without him. I have grown so reliant on him -- his strength has become my strength.

After our anniversary, I decided to let him stay here in our home, with my family. He was practically alone in Manila, since his family resided in Quezon. The only relatives he had here was the family of his aunt. Working until the wee hours in the morning back then, I was worried about his health since he was unable to sleep soundly during the day because there were rowdy, playful children in his aunt's house. Our house always a welcome home for our friends, my mother and my family welcomed him without any questions. I was at peace that time because I knew that from that day on, he will no longer worry about not getting good, quality sleep. He will no longer worry about things like doing the laundry and looking for what to eat, since my mom has welcomed him as her son. Of course, I was very glad that I will always be with him and that he would always be at my side.

But things didn't turn out quite so well.

Things were well for the first couple of months, but our relationship was strained to a melancholic tidal wave of ups and downs for the months to follow, the reason being my selfish desire to maintain a sense of the self. I was struggling to find who I was amidst the layer upon layer of being us. It was as if I felt so empty deep inside, and I wanted to know why. I was so enthralled by my lust for my own identity that I caused so much pain and agony for the both of us. There were times that my swings were so outright distressing that I would not talk or take notice of him for days. At first, he always asked me what was wrong, but all I ever gave him was a shrugged shoulder. Little by little, he slowly eroded away as he took hit after hit. Soon after, our relationship withered away to just a frantic reciprocation of negative emotions. Everything had spiraled out of control, until I mustered the strength to call our relationship as lovers to an end. Back then, I thought that was the best thing to do. Tears both rolled down cheeks as I told him that we cannot continue living and feeling like that. I hated myself for causing him so much pain. A man like him did not do anything to deserve the amount of grief I caused him.

There were of course a lot of times that I wanted to make amends with him and start once again, but I wasn't able to overcome my fear of causing him so much pain. I was always moved to tears whenever I thought of it. I was frightened that if ever we came back, everything would yet again just descend to a pile of deep-seated sorrow and regret, and end up us more miserable than before.

We still stayed under one roof, sleeping in one bed even after our breakup. The first few weeks were saturated by an awkward air, but after some time, both of us agreed to try our best to love one another as brothers, and no longer as lovers. Many months pass with us being well and good. But, in reality, the wounds have never healed: they were only covered up by bandages made up of self-denying lies and escapes from the painful, sad truth. Now, him moving out seems to be the only solution for us to find ourselves once again, hopefully to be better people for our own future partners. I have to admit that I am sad that it has come to this, that even until now, I am still causing him so much sorrow and pain. However, I keep reminding myself that for him to be the indomitable person he was before, it has to be done.

In retrospect, I cannot blame Iyhan becoming this way. I can't blame him because I know he has done whatever he could, and it was probably because of my choices that things didn't work out. Both of us changed into persons even each of us wasn't familiar with because our lives changed, and we failed to adapt to that change. Maybe he changed because he no longer had to be as strong as before, since he has a family that takes care of him now. I cannot talk for him, but for me, the problem was that I insisted to hold on to my own personal space even if I knew that sacrifices had to made since I was no longer alone. My emotions raged on probably because of me subconsciously denying to let go to what I deemed so valuable during the times that I was alone and miserable. Even if I can already accept my own faults and shortcomings, after eight months, I admit that I still haven't moved on, at least completely. I chose not to because I can see that he still can't fully accept the things that happened, and I will only be able to fully move on if I can see that he can already move on with life as well.

In the end, I have learned a lot from my experience with Iyhan. I would be lying if I said I didn't have any regrets with what has happened, but I know deep within me that I never blamed it on him. I never blamed myself as well, because everything happened because we chose to do so. Our relationship started because of choices, and it has ended because of choices as well.

Destiny gives us only chances, but in the end, we make our own choices. Our choices may bring us pain, but in that pain lies sweet sorrow. It is a subtle reminder that we are alive, yearning for solace in the ironies of life.