Pity yourself because no one will pity you.
MRT sucks, work, an upset stomach the whole day, MRT still sucks going home, grocery shopping, a very heavy backpack, and a very heavy heart and teary eyes - that's how I marked my Monday.
I signed in as usual, hoping I would get a glimpse of him online. But until we were forced to evict by our boss who was to catch a flight, I didn't see him.
Hanged out for a while with my colleague at Powerbooks and Seattle's Best Coffee, while I listed my items for grocery shopping. Despite the crowd there, my colleague noticed I was staring at nothing - probably at the wall decor, probably randomly staring at some of people having coffee and WiFi there at SBC.
Hopping from one lane to another until I got myself a seat from the MRT Taft station, I was tired carrying the backpack with the laptop and other stuff, and tears, along with sweat, slowly fell.
I was pitying myself for being weak that I couldn't squeeze myself in during the morning MRT ride (it took me the fourth train until I cramped myself in);
I was pitying myself for being a loser that I took a round trip to get a decent seat, only to find that the train won' take any passengers from the last station;
I was pitying myself for having weak shoulders and arms that I felt the backpack was the whole world burdening me;
I was pitying myself I had to ask the assistance of a bagger from SM Hypermarket in MRT Quezon Ave. to help me carry four bags of grocery; I sincerely smiled though when fellow FX taxi passengers helped me opened the door and assisted me with my grocery bags when I had to get off and ride a tricycle to home;
I'm still pitying myself for not enjoying any dinner (living on yogurt now) because my tummy has been upset the whole day;
I'm pitying myself for being here, not doing anything concrete to win my man back.
I keep checking though my very long letter and book are on their way but the LBC Web site is not updated.
Later, I'm going to sign my employment contract and tying myself to the corporate world for a 7-month stint. Many asks why would I get myself tied to a corporate job when I have all the freedom being a journalist for years? This warrants another blog entry, I believe.
Four days to go, for days of my heart skipping, of my thoughts wandering, of controlling my tear glands, if I would be hearing or not from him ....
I maybe obsessed, but I vowed to myself that no matter what happens, I will fight until the end for my one true love.
That's why I may pity myself on occasions, but I MUST have the warrior attitude to carry on the fight.
Later: meetings, and squeezing in calls to check where the deal breaker or maker that is the gift is located now ....