117: Reflections

27 04 2010

Going down the building elevator at past 12 midnight. I’m going to sleep over at my cousin’s nearby so I don’t have to go home to QC. I’ll just borrow clothes from my cousin’s wife so I could wear something when I report back to work at 9am.

I’m starting to feel… not good about this summer internship stint. For one thing, I’m not yet 100% clear on the terms of the allowance they will pay me. Also, there’s the knowledge from my new friends that these overtime/overnight occur quite often. Finally, there’s this great big weight on my chest every time I go to this city. I do love Makati since I equate it to lots of good times. I love it while I was working here for three years. I still love this city but being there at this time in my life is a painful experience for me because my boyfriend isn’t here with me. He isn’t there waiting for me so we could go to work together; he isn’t there to pick me up after work; he isn’t there to ride jeepneys with me; he isn’t there to have dinner with. In other words, he isn’t there. The pain is unbearable.

Since I stopped living in Makati in March and boyfie has left the country in August last year, I have visited the city a couple of times and each time something tugs at my heart. Of course I don’t show it to anybody but every time I see a familiar street, a favorite hangout, even a freakin’ Ministop branch, I have give extra effort not to cry.

When I got back in the office at 9am, some of the people I left at midnight were still there, and apparently they didn’t get to sleep at all. I went back to work on what I was doing last night and finished it just in time for them to whisk off to the client meeting. Those who stayed in the office overnight went home and I was left with only a few things to do. I was able to go home at 6pm and by that time I’ve held back too many tears. I have decided I’m not coming back tomorrow, and my parents support my decision.

I can’t work in Makati anymore. Not right now, not when boyfie is not there to be there with me. It may sound cheezy or extreme, but that’s the truth. I could do work, actually, but I’ll be miserable the whole time. If that’s the case, count me out. I don’t want any of it.




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