The Doors We Close

Today, I did something that I always thought I'd never do: I locked myself out of a house.
I was just going to the neighborhood store, to get something to eat while doing schoolwork. With some cash in my pocket, I locked the doorknob and closed it behind me, only to realize that I forgot to bring the keys with me.
The shock hit me like a cold wave. I turned to the door slowly, and prayed that everything I did for the past ten seconds didn't happen. Twisting the knob, I held my breath. Clunk, clunk. I was shut off from the inside.

Good thing I have a relative who lives nearby, otherwise I would have been staying in front of the house for the whole day. The thing is, the experience was some sort of metaphor for me. It made me start thinking of the many 'doors' I have closed and locked in my life. Oftentimes, these doors are relationships and opportunities, some doors being open, as they are always present in my life. The doors that are closed are relationships that need to be rekindled, and those that are locked are the ones that I can never return to.

There aren't many open doors in my life. I have a tendency to close each door as soon as I see another one open. I'm not good at keeping friendships alive, I'm not good at catching up and all that jazz. Once people leave, they're closing the door to my life. Sometimes it stays that way.

Sometimes, the doors we close are the ones that we just open for a moment, and seeing that behind it isn't what we want, or what we expect, so we close them immediately, not giving it a second look. The doors remain closed, and what lies behind them are never fully discovered because of a nasty first impression, or because they just didn't make much of an impact. Sometimes, when you're looking for something, they hide behind that closed door, waiting for you to find them, to open the door and pick them up. To say something as silly as 'Found you!' and lead them out. But the door stays closed and we end up looking for things that aren't what we were looking for in the first place but are good enough (although the thing with good enough is that it's never good enough).

Sometimes, the doors we close get locked up for various reasons. Sometimes, we lock them on purpose, or by accident, or we are locked out. We lock them up, never to return to the room it leads to, hoping that what it contains never gets to you. Most of the time, these locked doors are conscious choices, thought hard about and mentally debated. But sometimes,these doors happen by accident (like what happened to me today). When you realize your mistake, you turn the knob, hoping that by the nth turn it becomes unlocked. Or you bang the door and scream, thinking that whoever is in the other side can hear, hoping they open the door, knowing that it was a mistake. And maybe, in a desperate attempt, you break the door, thinking that everything will be OK. But it's not because there's obvious damage, and shards and splinters all around. Yeah, it's open. But it's not the same anymore. You tell the person at the other side "I'll fix it" but you both know that the 'fixing' isn't going to do much, and then you realize that maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe you should have kept the door locked.

Oftentimes, the doors we close are by choice. Some are good decisions, and some are bad. But the thing about these doors is that although you have closed and locked some of them, there are a whole lot of open doors waiting for you. It's basically up to you whether to keep them that way.

I Still Think About You

I still think about you even if I tell myself that I don't anymore, which is a bummer because if my brain doesn't listen to me, who will? I've tried hard to stop, to be honest. I close my eyes every time I pass your school, so I won't end up analyzing the features of every male dressed in a student's uniform, looking for your signature features. I hid the class pictures you and I shared, and I'm this close to blocking you from Facebook (which is a pretty bad move, because everybody will know that I'm trying to forget about you, and I don't want them to think that way even though it's true).
I think the problem about forgetting you is that I don't know where to start. Most people tell you to cut off connections right away, because that's where it all begins. Like taking out weeds, where you uproot them  because without their little capillaries of life sucking out all the minerals from the soil, they'd shrivel and die. The problem about forgetting you is that there are no roots to uproot, no direct spot to target. The part in my brain dedicated to you is very abstract, where the lines are blurred and the colors are smudged into different colors. You don't know where it ends, much less where it starts.
So I still think about you, even though it's poisonous and sad because I know you barely think of me. I still think about you and your stupid green shirt, and the way you lost weight over the year. I still think about why I never said the things I wanted to say, and why I don't feel remorseful for not saying them.
You're there in the rain, when the weather is gloomy and gray. You are there in flash floods and little rusty tricycles. You are there in little notebooks with cheap padlocks.
You are still there.
And maybe, to start not thinking about you, I have to accept that you will always be there. Maybe accepting the part that you will never really go away is the first step- the fact that you may be significant now, but in a certain time, you may not be.
You are a part of me in a sense that most of my pubescent years were dedicated to you. And in order to start another stage of life, your part has to end. It may be slow, but I'm getting there somewhere, somehow. And one day, I won't be thinking of you anymore.

An Excuse for Inactivity

I haven't written for about 6+ months, which is kinda weird seeing how this blog is almost a year old and barely has ten posts in it. So much for being a keeper of everything that's changed.
I've somehow convinced myself that if I got a journal I could make it a more private way of holding my thoughts. I did get one though, and I even wrote on the first few pages. I haven't added a new entry for about three weeks. I don't think that's very good if I'm making keeping track of my thoughts regularly as a New Year's Resolution.
The thing is, I keep telling myself that I'm just being lazy. But there are times when I do take an hour to sit down and put my journal and a pen in front of me. Nothing comes out. I pick the pen, open the cap, and flip to a blank page, but the pen doesn't come in contact with the paper. Is that laziness? I don't think so. I've already put it out, but I'm still hesitating to bring out whatever's in my head.
I've considered a lot of things that have given me this writer's block- probably stress, or maybe I'm too tired. It's only recently that I've admitted to myself that I'm afraid of putting my thoughts down.
Probably it's funny, how putting down how you feel can be so frightening. It's supposed to be therapeutic, so it's not supposed to scare you, right? But the thing is, I find it scary. The thought of immortalizing the dirtiest, darkest parts of you on a piece of paper or on a blogging platform is probably one of the biggest things that can make my chest feel heavy and make me squirm in my seat. Maybe it's because when it's all in your head you can convince yourself that you've confused your feelings with your imagination-probably with a TV series or a depressing book. When you write it down, there's no turning back. You've verified and acknowledged that these feelings are real and that they exist somewhere deep inside you. You cannot deny it- it's in your nature no matter how hard you try to hide it.
I'm not sure if I should apologize or not, and if I do to choose to apologize, who would it be? To my readers? To myself? I don't really know a lot of things anymore. I'm at this point in my life where I don't know where I'm going and who I want to be. I don't really know who I am anymore. I've lost track of the goals I've set in mind, and I'm not sure that my thirteen year old self would be proud of me.
So much for keeping track of everything that's changed.

On Computers

As I'm writing this entry, I am sitting in my school's computer laboratory, leeching free internet. Apparently, the only reason why I'm writing this is because my university blocked the other fun websites and the only thing enjoyable to do is to write a blog post. To be honest, the mere thought of using flat screen computers equipped with the latest software excites me. I blame my high school for giving me this feeling.

I don't hate my high school. In fact, it was a very good school for my little island, and it gave me very fond (and not-so fond) memories that I will probably cherish for the rest of my life. However, it was quite financially deprived, and had to find ways on how to maximize their budget in order to give quality education to its students. I'd like to believe that they stuck to the 'quality over quantity' mantra, but I guess when you're running an establishment, you have to make sacrifices.

Apparently, they chose to sacrifice our Computer Science education.

The computers in our computer lab were not of the best quality. They were ancient, boxy machines with screens that somehow seemed to bulge a bit. The keyboards were of horrible quality, with the keys so hard that you had to jab them with your finger before a character appeared before you. The software, although supposed to be fast, hanged up and had numerous glitches. I could write about all of the struggles I experienced with computers there, but then that would be too long, and besides, we somehow managed to get through with it anyway.

Probably staying in a room full of lag-y, boxy computers made me long for a computer whose screen wouldn't turn yellow after five minutes. Probably looking at something that was big and ancient made me appreciate the ones that were thin and sleek.

But maybe that's just me.

16 Things I Should Have Done When I Was Sixteen

I was watching The Pacifier and then there was this scene where one of the kids is part of The Sound of Music. He plays Rolf and then sings a line from 'Sixteen Going on Seventeen'. Listening to the familiar beat of the song actually perked something inside me, like it was something I should remember. The song was basically a soundtrack of my last six months being sixteen, and almost every seventeen year old girl quoted a line from that song in their Facebook profile picture that celebrated their seventeenth year on Earth.

Which makes me ask the question: Was I too excited to be seventeen that I forgot to enjoy my sixteenth year on this planet? Maybe I was, or maybe I wasn't. I don't know that for sure. But I will post sixteen things I'm sure I wish I did back when I was sixteen so that some sixteen year old girl will try her hand on these things (but it's alright if you don't, though I'm sure you'll wish you did when you're seventeen).

1. Wear trendier clothes. Because when you're sixteen, dressing up like a ten year old is not the least bit cute. Nuh-uh, not at all.
2. Watch American TV shows like Glee, The Vampire Diaries, 90210, Pretty Little Liars, Revenge, and the list goes on and on and on...
3. Get piano lessons. Just because.
4. Learn how to socialize with others and not stick to the room's corner/wall/couch/soft drink dispenser.
5. Learn how to eat like a human being and not like a dog disguised as a person.
6. Buy a shoulder bag then learn how to look good with a shoulder bag. If you're going to stick with a backpack, you HAVE to wear only one strap and make the other dangle from behind. Wearing both straps will make you look like a nerd. Also, do not put much inside your bag, even though you know your bag is capable of carrying a number of things. A bulky bag makes a nerdy and awkward student. You do not want to be nerdy and awkward.
7. Finish one big tub of ice cream. By yourself. Brain freeze is acceptable.
8. Wear a bikini because when you're old you'll have wrinkles and then wearing a bikini is just darn disgusting.
9. Talk to boys. Gosh, they're not some foreign, alien creatures. They're just the opposite sex.
10. Sing 'Sixteen Going on Seventeen' with me as Liesl and a guy friend as Rolf. On video. No ifs, no buts. If he refuses, then friendship over.
11. Spend less time on Facebook and more time having fun.
12. Join Sinulog and have fun with the street party and get paint and dirt all over me.
13. Have a karaoke contest with friends.
14. Tell that one person you like since forever that you like them and not care if they'll reject you or not. If they like you, it's cool. If they don't like you, it's cool.
15. Have a Disney Princess and Nicholas Sparks movie marathon in one setting. 
16. Trust someone. Don't overthink, don't overreact. Let them take care of you, and if everything goes wrong, it's OK. It happens, life happens. It's better than haunting yourself with the possibilities.

The Janine Tugonons of the World

A goddess. That's what Janine Tugonon is to most people in the Philippines. She's both beauty and brains, having placed first runner up in the Miss Universe 2013 pageant, winning the hearts of Filipinos all over the world with her witty response in the Q & A portion, photogenic face, and- let's admit it- her super hot, ultra mega sexy body.

But even though she is a goddess, she dated a mere mortal. An ordinary guy, who wasn't really what you would call the most conventional type of handsome. Yet they were together for a year. It was like a Cinderella story, only male version. Cinderello. Hahaha. Okay.

But their seemingly love story came to an end when an international band member of The Script, probably Janine's all-time favorite band, came to the Philippines for a concert. Being the big The Script fan that she is, she obviously went and even met her idols! What's more the lead singer asked for her Twitter. Aw, how cute. 

Janine then breaks up with her boyfriend because she and her idol are sending each other direct messages in Twitter and she realizes that she's more attracted to her idol that she met only once than the boy she's been with for one year.

And that was how their unconventional love story ended.

I'm not going to chastise Janine's actions that much. Most of the people in the internet have, and I think this Facebook page's photo perfectly expresses what I really feel of the issue (it's in Filipino though, so if you can't understand Filipino you could always use Google Translate or whatever). I guess I just can't really be mad at Janine because of two reasons.

1. I don't really know her except that she is a beauty queen and a goddess.
2. I know people who are like her. She's not the only one who's like this.

People judge Janine for what she's doing to her boyfriend, but I think the main reason why she's receiving so much backlash is because they realize that they have met somebody similar to her.

There are girls (and boys!) who make you feel like you're the one, but leave when they've met someone better. They break your heart into tiny little pieces, then crush them on the ground, then expect you guys to still be friends. They tell you about their latest eye candy how wonderful, loving and cute they are together without even batting an eyelash.

They tell you they love you, but you know that deep inside they love themselves more. And you can't do anything about that. You're the one who'll have to love more because they know that they are wanted. They know that everybody loves them. You tire yourself out trying to catch up to their needs and expectations, only draining yourself out dry and realizing that your efforts have gone to waste.

You can't really win when you're in a relationship with one of the Janine Tugonons of the world. 

It Will Pass

Just because you'll try to understand somebody doesn't mean you always can. There will be a time when you will get tired of understanding others when no one understands you. You try to give without asking anything in return until you're flat out empty and drained physically, mentally, emotionally.
So you try to understand them some more, giving out a piece of yourself every time you do, hoping that someday, someone will understand you the way you understand them.
But that never happens. And you've given yourself away so much that you've become a ghost. A ghost of a person they used to know. You can't regain what you've lost. So you deal with it, hoping that it will pass.
But will it?

On Vday

Usually, when people know that you're single on Valentine's Day, they automatically assume you're bitter and ask you to join the Anti-Valentine's Day Movement.

Well, I've been single on Valentine's Day for seventeen years, and I've never really felt bitter about it. Maybe  because I like the holiday. I may not receive sweet nothings, chocolates, and other tokens of a person's affections, but I like looking at people who do receive them.

I don't know. Just because you're single, you don't have to hate on people who aren't. And just because you don't have a Valentine, doesn't mean that Valentine's Day is going to suck. It's a fun holiday, with love all over in the air. The least you can do is enjoy it while you can.

And if you don't, well, just boycott VDay altogether.

Happy Valentine's!

badum tss

Isn't it scary how hours become days, days become months, and months become years? You know it happens, how time slowly slips away from your fingers, but you don't really realize it until suddenly you're pretty much left with no time at all. You tell yourself "I'll do this tomorrow" or "Let's do that later", yet tomorrow never comes, later never really happens.
We keep on putting things off because we think we have time, when we never really had time in the first place.

So, this blog pretty much exists to document thoughts about certain issues in certain times. This one is going to be a bit more public, a little bit more formal. But if you've read my blog since who-knows-when, then I guarantee you that it's still 100% Pat Gallardo.
Or what remains of the Pat Gallardo you knew.

Because I want to look back in this blog five years from now and laugh at myself. Laugh at how young I am as of this writing, and laugh at how much I've changed and remained the same.
Five years is a long period of time. But it doesn't really feel that way when you think about it.

So I hope this blog does its job: being a keeper of the thoughts of a growing and changing person.
Because if it doesn't, well, dang.