James The Great.

I think I’m actually marching to that commencement music this March. Or maybe not- but hopefully, really crossings my fingers here, I do... because I would go out on a limb just to don that black damn toga - even if that means fighting my greatest nemesis of all; myself.

Four years ago, I joined the bandwagon of enrolling nursing as a college degree for all the wrong reasons. Sure, there was the thought of earning dollars involved. But my naïvite was so humongous back then that the sole reason why I chose nursing, aside from looking awesome in white, is to go to the States, change my citizenship, and be on Survivor. Top that.

Geez who knows what would happen to that show after two more seasons? By the time I’m going to be there, if reality and destiny even permits, production would have been already halted and everything I have worked so hard for at Nursing school would have proven to be futile.

Oh my god James, like, you have just shrunk your brains, or what?

And so I ask myself, again, “James, where do you see yourself in the next five years?” Shudder, right? I can hear the crickets chirping. “Well, I think, uhm, uhm”. You get the point. Go James, go. Make up something witty, clever or funny as always because that’s what you’re good at. Not. Somehow, when it comes to serious matters such as the temperature of Rhum being served and my life in possible ruins, I find myself lost in the nothingness of what supposed to be is common sense.

How feasible would it be If I just knock myself over, have amnesia, and forget who I really am? At least I wouldn’t have to worry anymore about my constant procrastination and the lack of action over my intentions. I’m sure I’d make good grades if I weren’t myself. I’m also certain all the clutters in my bedroom or my head would be all gone. And I’m vey positive I would be the assertive person I always wanted to be, graduate this March, and just rock.

No more daydreaming, no more boozing, and no more bitching about how I couldn’t be my own Kurt Cobain in this lifetime. How awesome is that? Uh, just follow the drift. I mean, it would probably transform me into a square and boring person but right now, I am not in a position to complain. I just have to face it. And grow up.

For that I would like to take this opportunity to air out my feelings.

Dear Mom and Dad, I’m really sorry for being such a mess. I promise to study my brains out these finals even if it means morphing myself into some kind of zombie. And James, you know what you ought to do. I don’t even have to tell you what it is. Or I’m just going to have to whack you in the head when you turn wacko every minute or so. So help me God.

Call Me An Ass, A Jerk, Whatever.

“What am I to you?”

“friends.”

“friends lang?”

“uh… yeah.”

And boy did I know I was in trouble. Or she was. It depends on how you see it. I don’t know. Besides if I was the villain in her story, I was in every right, the hero in mine.

Her friends could have killed me right there and then if they knew I broke their friend’s heart which would just do nothing but affirm the fact that, indeed, I was the victim.

We’ll what’s a poor boy got do? I didn’t want to lead her on. I didn’t have any feelings towards her of any kind. I just, like any douchebag of a guy, copied notes from her, occasionally flirted (but only when necessary). That’s just pretty much it. And some assignments.

I had to do what I got to do.

I entertained her didn’t I?

Call me an ass, a jerk, whatever.

It is undeniable she enjoyed my company.

And I was still doing her a favor by not leading her on.
I can’t fake love you know.

And for that my friend, I deserve a medal of honor.

I mean, in what scenario would she have thought that I was harboring some sort of affection? Exactly.

Again, call me an ass, a jerk, whatever.

I just want to make it public, for future disclaimer purposes, that if I do like you, being the most blunt and person that I am, I would have told you the moment that we met… or when I finally muster any guts, which is like… depends on the urgency. Most of the time, it depends on the need.

And If I had known you for the longest time now, and I still I haven’t told you anything, chances are… you know what your chances are or at least you get the point.

God.

So just get over it. And I’m sorry.

“Laagan kaayo ka dong. Pag-uli sa inyo oi. Pagbuhat inyo IS.”

We actually chanced upon each other one night. And by the tone she used on me, I guess I shouldn’t get my guards down even after two years. I could actually die from crime of passion, you know.

And dude that is just damn epic. ;-)