17 Oct Younger, fresher
I would never date anyone younger than me, but after a series of failed relationships with the supposedly more mature older men, I decided that maybe, I spoke too soon.
Going out with someone of the same age, much less, younger strangely made me feel both older and younger.
Older because I was forced to grow-up too soon, having been required to step-up to the role of a bread winner early on. Younger ‘coz suddenly I’ m back to the days when all that mattered were games and laughter. The simplicity of it all refreshed me.
With older guys it was always about making things happen. They triggered in me an innate urge to excel and I’ve always used their own success as benchmark to motivate me to push harder, work longer and get things done faster.
But somehow, it always led to a breakdown.
Maybe I was too competitive, maybe I burnt them out early with my need to get better all the time or perhaps I pushed them too soon and too hard.
Whatever it was, it’s over. I decided to stop analyzing what I did wrong and just be at peace with the fact that it has ended, and that there’s no use trying to figure out something that cannot be fixed. I comforted myself with the idea that what happened is what should have, and that there’s was and is nothing I can do about it.
Accepting that I am helpless to the case is strangely empowering.
This time around though, I cant help but notice that things go by slower than it used to. I guess when you’re young, you don’t really need to hurry anything. The thrill of the chase, the rush of the competition was gone, and suddenly I find myself just relishing the stroll.
I realized that this is exactly what I needed at the moment–time to breathe.
I was so beat from my previous engagements that right now, the idea of slowing down is looking really good.
No mind games, no competition–just pure unadulterated fun.
Maybe this is what I’ve been missing all along.
Last Sunday was a surprise, what was supposed to be a simple luncheon at the local weekend market turned out to be a VIP tour in Manila ocean park. Funny how a place visited, or in my case, lived in, (I stayed in the ocean park hotel for a month last year) could still offer new experiences just by a change of company.
Again I was reminded, that what matters isn’t where you go or what you do, it’s who you’re with.
I’ve been to bigger, better oceanariums abroad and as I mentioned, I have lived in the Manila ocean park hotel for a month before, but none struck me as deeply as this.
It was like seeing things for the first time again, and I felt like a twelve year old on a field trip with her friends and crush.
I especially enjoyed having my callouses knawed at by the living fins in the fish spa, it tingled at first and I ended up giggling mercilessly much to the annoyance of the crowd but you get used to it after a few minutes. Funny thing is that my feet felt no cleaner or smoother after.
Made me wonder if the fishes were really eating at the dead skin or if they just wanted to kiss my feet– the thought made me smile.
Watching the jellyfishes dance was also very therapeautic. I was told that they actually have no control of their destination, that they just drift with the current. I couldnt help but wonder whats it like to be that helpless, to have no control of where youre going.
What freedom there must lie in such absolute resignation to the fates.
We had an early dinner at the asian restaurant and pretty much wasted the rest of the afternoon away on the couches by the bay. I dont know about my friends but I literally slept the entire time, only waking up every so often to check on my date if he was still okay. He didnt seem to mind, he seemed content watching me doze. I know because he said something sweet about it, but some gestures are better off without a response, at least for now.
It’s never what we didnt feel, it’s what we refuse show, it’s what we don’ t say–