Today, I went to Glorietta with mom. She needed to buy medicines and stroll so she can reach her daily goal of 6000 steps a day. As usual, we went to the Home Department of both Landmark and SM.
I looked at the furniture - sofas (my fave thing to check out), dining tables, sheets, all those stuff. As I checked each item and its price, I said to myself "Someday, I'll buy something similar to this" and went on daydreaming how I want my living room to look like, that my study table/reading area will be in front of a large window overlooking a certain scenery - may it be nature or city lights. Of how I will come home to a quiet place, have coffee and write...or read..or both...to my heart's content. I stopped and asked how many times have I said "Someday" to myself? I remember imagining the same things way back my early teens. I do this all the time for as long as I can remember. Imagining the life I wanted. A life that may not exist. Now, nearing 40 and I am still saying "Someday." It brought a wave of frustration and exhaustion. The kind where you start to evaluate your life and search where you went wrong. Haven't I tried hard enough? Did I make the right choices? Of course, it all looked like it was the best option at the time but still, was it all there is to it?
I think the hardest part of all this is the fact that half my life is gone and all those things I've been dreaming of since childhood remains just that. Dreams. What the fuck happened? What did I do? Or what didn't I do? My life has been a series of "someday" and "one day" and now I have to accept the hard truth that it may never be. Or maybe I am being unreasonably emotional this week due to another failed "one day." A simple "one day" that lasted for almost 2 years. More than two decades if you count history. Another reminder of the reasons of my "somedays."
Not to sound ungrateful to an all-knowing God, I admit it wasn't a bad life. It's just not what I wanted for myself. It's like you're thirsty and you're repeatedly given bread. The dehydration is killing me. A slow, painful death. I am so wrapped up in this vision of a future I have created for myself and just realized that the said future has come and gone. And I'm still here. Right where I said I won't.
Yes, it isn't the end yet. And that future may be closer now than ever. But it will never be the same one. Not this time. Not ever. Maybe it's my fate. I just can't accept it yet. I don't think I ever will.
I looked at the furniture - sofas (my fave thing to check out), dining tables, sheets, all those stuff. As I checked each item and its price, I said to myself "Someday, I'll buy something similar to this" and went on daydreaming how I want my living room to look like, that my study table/reading area will be in front of a large window overlooking a certain scenery - may it be nature or city lights. Of how I will come home to a quiet place, have coffee and write...or read..or both...to my heart's content. I stopped and asked how many times have I said "Someday" to myself? I remember imagining the same things way back my early teens. I do this all the time for as long as I can remember. Imagining the life I wanted. A life that may not exist. Now, nearing 40 and I am still saying "Someday." It brought a wave of frustration and exhaustion. The kind where you start to evaluate your life and search where you went wrong. Haven't I tried hard enough? Did I make the right choices? Of course, it all looked like it was the best option at the time but still, was it all there is to it?
I think the hardest part of all this is the fact that half my life is gone and all those things I've been dreaming of since childhood remains just that. Dreams. What the fuck happened? What did I do? Or what didn't I do? My life has been a series of "someday" and "one day" and now I have to accept the hard truth that it may never be. Or maybe I am being unreasonably emotional this week due to another failed "one day." A simple "one day" that lasted for almost 2 years. More than two decades if you count history. Another reminder of the reasons of my "somedays."
Not to sound ungrateful to an all-knowing God, I admit it wasn't a bad life. It's just not what I wanted for myself. It's like you're thirsty and you're repeatedly given bread. The dehydration is killing me. A slow, painful death. I am so wrapped up in this vision of a future I have created for myself and just realized that the said future has come and gone. And I'm still here. Right where I said I won't.
Yes, it isn't the end yet. And that future may be closer now than ever. But it will never be the same one. Not this time. Not ever. Maybe it's my fate. I just can't accept it yet. I don't think I ever will.
(photo taken from Google images here)
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