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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1

- Chapter 2 -

It turned out that the party had been a meeting of important cultivators, sect leaders, and that meant, of course, that his father had been there.

His father. No wonder his mother had been so excited!

And even knowing that nothing had come of it, that his mother had returned empty-handed, despite himself, when he heard it, Meng Yao was excited, too, feeling a frisson of hope run down his spine. He regretted, now, that he hadn’t been able to go to the party as a server, thinking of the might-have-beens if he’d gone, if he’d done something to impress the man, if his father had finally decided to take them away from this place –

“He was too drunk to recognize me,” his mother said, sad and eyes distant. “And some of the younger girls had gotten to him first…I couldn’t catch his eye, and in the end they sent me away with one of the other sect leaders.”

As a joke, she didn’t say, an old whore with a man too drunk to tell the difference, but Meng Yao wouldn’t guess at that truth, the source of so much bitterness, until much later.

“Not Wen Ruohan, right?” Meng Yao asked, and breathed a sigh of relief when she shook her head.

“You shouldn’t refer to your elders by name, A-Yao,” she reminded him, always trying to teach him etiquette – though now that he thought about it, Nie Mingjue had used the man’s name directly, too. Maybe it was his way of trying to make the man seem less scary. “It would be ‘Sect Leader Wen’…and how do you know any of the sect leader’s names, anyway?”

“A cultivator came here last night,” Meng Yao explained. “He gave me a qiankun pouch, and some money –”

“In return for what?” His mother’s voice was sharp. “A-Yao, I told you, you’re not allowed to make deals with people –”

Meng Yao’s shoulders went up by his ears. He knew what she really meant, that he wasn’t allowed to sell himself or his body because it’d give him a bad reputation in the future; he wasn’t allowed even if it meant the difference between a hungry night and a full one, a freezing one and a warm one.

“I didn’t do that,” he muttered. “I just –”

“There’s no just. No deals at all, A-Yao; if you get into the habit of seeing everything as something you can buy or sell, then it’s only a matter of time before someone buys you.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Meng Yao protested. “He gave me a pouch, and he said –”

It was the wrong thing to say, especially after a disappointment like last night, and his mother started scolding him fiercely, alternating with tears, and in the end he decided it was better to say nothing.

Nie Mingjue would come back with the manual, the way he’d come back with the money, or else he wouldn’t, and either way there was nothing Meng Yao could do about it.

And anyway, after a few months, he realized he had bigger problems.

It started pretty unnoticeably: a tightness in his mother’s face, an unusual refusal to take on clients for the more lucrative type of engagements, spending more on food than usual…at first Meng Yao thought that it was only that she was happy to have money again, even if it spilled through their fingers like sand on getting her new clothing and better make-up, larger shoes for Meng Yao and a warm coat, only slightly torn from previous use.

He’d been worried, although not unduly so, when she’d started being sick sometimes – she’d claimed it was food poisoning, and they had been eating more meat than usual, so maybe…

Foolish.

One of the other ladies called it out one day in mockery, not a single doubt in her voice, and his mother didn’t deny it. Meng Yao’s stomach dropped, his heart frozen in terror.

Pregnant.

Again.

And she hadn’t taken any steps to get rid of it, the way she should have – whores had their ways, even if they weren’t perfect, and his mother knew enough of them. He knew that she would have been acting very differently if she intended to abort, would have been less cautious, less resistant, less –

She’d bedded a sect leader at that party, he remembered, doing the miserable math on his fingers. Not his father again, no, she wouldn’t make that mistake twice - would she? She’d gone there to see him, after all.

No, in the end, she was still counting on Meng Yao to earn his way into his father’s graces on his own, for the sake of both of them. But she had gone to bed with another one, and if it had taken…

Meng Yao knew his mother loved him, but for the first time in his life, he feared losing that love.

He tried to keep his fears to himself, tried not to burden her, but in the end he was a child and not yet good enough at hiding his expressions; she spotted him soon enough, took him into her arms and coaxed his fears from him.

“You silly goose, A-Yao. Don’t you know it’s for you?” she whispered in his ear, putting his hand on her belly. “I’m too old and sick to have a strong child, all the doctors said so; even if this one is born, he’ll be weak and sickly, likely to be swept away by the first chill of winter. I don’t need that sect leader to support me – we know already that they won’t do that. I just need him to feel guilty enough to take you with him back to his sect as recompense for having burdened me with a child that was lost.”

Meng Yao felt a touch of ice run down his spine. “But...what if the child lives through the winter?”

“There are many ways for a child to die,” his mother said, and her voice was calm and gentle, a pool undisturbed by the ripples beneath, just the way she’d always taught him. “Only some of them are winter.”

Meng Yao knew his mother loved him, but for the first time in his life, he feared what that love might mean.

His mother had grown cunning since his birth and more cynical since his father’s most recent rejection. She decided not to write to the sect leader with the news at once – that would be risking a rejection, a dismissal, an accusation that the child could be someone else’s son, or worst of all a blow to make her miscarry. She planned instead to wait until the child was almost here and only then she would summon him, knowing he would come to check just in case it was true. It was said that cultivators had a means of testing birthright, the way regular people didn’t, and that they were very cautious about such things.

That way, when the child died at birth or immediately thereafter, there would still be enough time for the sect leader to feel guilt and to be coaxed into taking Meng Yao in as a disciple, and once Meng Yao had learned the basics of cultivation, he could make his way to his father’s place to prove to him that he was worth taking in, that it was time to make good on all the old promises he’d made.

It was a good plan, if a cold one.

It would have worked, too, if Meng Yao hadn’t blundered his way into something better.

Perhaps that was giving him too much credit: he wasn’t the one who did the blundering. That was all Nie Mingjue, who six months after he’d made a crazy promise to return had actually gone and done it.

“You live in Qinghe,” Meng Yao said accusingly instead of greeting him, because he’d gone to listen to the gossips talk until he’d managed to figure out where the cultivation sect surnamed ‘Nie’ resided. “That’s not even in this part of the country; how can you be back so soon?”

“I promised you I would, didn’t I? I keep my word,” Nie Mingjue said with a smile, as if it was that easy – as if a child could make decisions like that, ones that involved crossing mountains and rivers and going deep into another sect’s territory, when Meng Yao couldn’t even walk too far down the street without the brothel owners cursing him out as a would-be runaway. “Don’t worry about it. The Jiang sect doesn’t really pay attention as a general rule, and even if they did their current leader’s too busy with his angry wife to care about who’s traveling through his domain.”

Meng Yao rolled his eyes - he’d heard that gossip, too. But he didn’t care, that wasn’t what mattered; there were more important things to focus on. “Did you bring it?”

Nie Mingjue produced a manual out of his sleeve. The quality of the paper was far better than any of the ones Meng Yao’s mother had bought for him, and he knew at once by looking at it that this was no fake. He tried to grab at it with both hands, but Nie Mingjue pulled it back.

“Cultivation is dangerous,” he warned. “You need a guide, at least at first, to make sure you don’t make any mistakes – it’s easy to make mistakes, especially at the beginning, and that can lay the groundwork for a qi deviation in the future. I’ll let you read it, but you have to promise that you’ll only practice with me for the first week or so, okay?”

“You’re staying a week?”

Nie Mingjue’s cheeks flushed red. “Uh, well – I was planning on two, if you don’t mind…”

“Of course I don’t mind! You can stay with me in my attic.”

“I brought enough money for a room at an inn –”

“We can use the extra to buy more meat,” Meng Yao told him, already pushing and shoving him, and Nie Mingjue was easily convinced.

He was easily convinced to follow him back to the brothel, too, which was a little frustrating: how could anyone be that naïve? If Meng Yao had wanted to sell Nie Mingjue, he probably could do it, cultivator or no; there were a hundred things to fear in a brothel, hidden in the tea or the incense or the smiles of seemingly friendly strangers.

Nie Mingjue was lucky that Meng Yao had longer-term goals in mind for him.

They passed the day quite pleasantly, eating meat skewers and dragon’s beard candy and discussing the basics of cultivation – Meng Yao read the book (his book!) and asked questions, and Nie Mingjue did his best to answer them – and then in the latter part of the afternoon the women at the brothel roused themselves, coming out to prepare for their nightly work, his mother included.

She was fairly heavily pregnant now, but there were men who liked that sort of thing, as long as there was something she could do for them, and the brothel owners wouldn’t waste their money by kicking her out no matter how annoyed they were at her for keeping the child. She wasn’t allowed to roam too far out of her room, being as she was a specialized service that might frighten regular customers, and so it wasn’t until she came to find Meng Yao to make sure he was all right that Nie Mingjue saw her for the first time.

“This is my mother,” Meng Yao said, his back stiff with expected insults even though Nie Mingjue hadn’t said a single word about Meng Yao living in a brothel so far.

Nie Mingjue stared at her with eyes so big and round and surprised that Meng Yao irritably wondered if he’d never seen a whore before, or perhaps it was the idea that one might be stupid enough to get pregnant and keep it. Maybe he would save his insults for that, instead, and Meng Yao would be forced to try to break his handsome face…

“You’re the lady they sent to my father’s room,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice faint and shaking with shock. “You’re – is that my brother?”

It turned out that the Nie sect, unlike the Jin sect, cared a great deal for matters of blood and children born of it; Nie Mingjue didn’t even demand a test or anything before he’d insisted that they come back to Qinghe with him, both of them, absolutely certain that his father would be overjoyed by the news.

Meng Yao and his mother exchanged looks, each of them skeptical and cynical to the core, and tried to convince him to slow down a little. To write a letter, perhaps –

“No! You have to come right away,” Nie Mingjue insisted, his cheeks pink with excitement. “We have doctors to care for you, and, oh, he’ll need a saber, someone will need to start on that right away – and anyway, a Nie should be born in Qinghe.”

“There’s still some months left to go,” Meng Shi said, though Meng Yao could see that she was a little amused by Nie Mingjue’s earnest enthusiasm. “Tell your father to come here and take me away, if you’re sure he’ll care so much.”

“I am sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “He’s just busy at the borders again, with Qishan Wen causing trouble all over; who knows how long it’d take for him to get word? Why do we have to wait for him to come in person anyway?”

“Because we can’t leave,” Meng Yao said, finally condescending to point out the obvious. “Mother belongs to the brothel, and we haven’t saved up enough to buy her freedom.”

Even an old whore was an expensive proposition, especially if she knew skills like singing and dancing and playing instruments the way Meng Shi did – and one with a burden like Meng Yao could be exploited to do all sorts of things that a normal woman might refuse. It would be costly to redeem her, more costly than anything a young sect heir might have expected to buy.

Meng Yao had expected that to be the end of it, but he’d apparently underestimated Nie Mingjue’s stubbornness: he went to the market and sold every last piece of metal he had on him, right down to the silver crown off his head, and was about to go try to barter away his clothing or sell his strength to a dockworker when Meng Yao shoved the money he’d so carefully saved up into his hands.

“With this it might be enough,” he said, biting his lip with guilt as his mother gaped at the glittering gold in his hand – he hadn’t dared tell her about it, about the fact that he’d been saving up again. She’d told him before that there was no point in buying her freedom, that she had no other skills to sell and a bad reputation to boot; they would live free for a single summer only to have to sell her back again in the winter, and the brothel owners wouldn’t be pleased at all by that.

“It will be,” Nie Mingjue said. “Even if I have to buy the rest on credit, it will be!”

“At least be clever about this,” Meng Shi sighed, giving in even though she clearly didn’t think it was a good idea. Meng Yao supposed she figured that if it came down to it, there were brothels in Qinghe, too, and at least she’d be something new there with her soft Yunping accent and manners. “If they think you’re desperate, they’ll raise the price – you should be more arrogant. Act as if you were doing them a favor by taking me off their hands.”

Nie Mingjue’s nose wrinkled.

“Pretend they’re surnamed Wen,” Meng Yao suggested, and that did the trick: Nie Mingjue’s lip curled at once, vicious and angry (and a little scared, but only deep down where most people wouldn’t see it easily). He marched right inside the brothel and demanded they sell Meng Shi to him, flaunting himself as the son of what he called a Great Sect.

It might not have worked except that he made such a fuss that people started to gather, including a passing cultivator and his wife – a much more respectable-looking pair than gawky too-tall-for-his-age Nie Mingjue with his hair now bound only by a ribbon, with a horsetail whip in the hands of the woman and swords on both of them – and the man’s eyebrows had gone up as high as his forehead. “Nie-gongzi,” he called, and even saluted properly and everything. “What are you doing so far from home?”

“Trying to complete a transaction,” Nie Mingjue growled, glaring at the brothel owner even as he saluted back. “I think he doesn’t think I’m good for it.”

The female cultivator snorted, shifting the baby she carried on her back from one side to the other. “That’s brave of him. Doesn’t your Nie sect like to break things that disagree with you and pay for the damages later?”

“He’s too young for that,” her husband told her. “Look, he’s not even carrying his saber yet.”

“I wasn’t talking about him,” she said. “I was talking about the retainers his father almost certainly sent to track him down – didn’t you say you saw some very angry-looking cultivators entering town not long ago? They looked fit to slaughter.”

Nie Mingjue blanched, suggesting that he hadn’t expected company quite this early – or perhaps hoping that he could hide away from them – but the cultivators’ words had made the brothel owner quite contemplative. He finally agreed to sell him Meng Shi’s contract for all the money Nie Mingjue had and a letter of promise for that amount a second time over, an outrageous price even after they’d used all of Meng Shi’s tricks on him, but Nie Mingjue had agreed to it in a heartbeat.

“Won’t your father be angry at your spending?” Meng Yao asked, wondering. It was so much money.

“I’ll make it up to him,” Nie Mingjue said dismissively. “As soon as I get my saber and start night-hunting, money flows free and easy. It’s hard to explain, but you’ll see what it’s like once you get there.”

Meng Yao blinked. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to be a cultivator?” Nie Mingjue asked, blinking at him. “You’ll be part of my Nie sect, of course, so the same rules that apply to me will apply to you.”

“No,” Meng Yao explained. “I’m going to be part of –”

His mother pressed down on his shoulder. “You’d be willing to accept A-Yao into your sect?” she asked, her gaze sharp and penetrating.

“Of course,” Nie Mingjue said, sounding puzzled. “I was willing to do it before, just for helping me out, and now, well – he’s the brother of my brother, isn’t he? That makes him all but family directly, especially if you marry in as a concubine.”

They both gaped at him.

“…do you not want to?” Nie Mingjue – hapless idiot, fulfiller of dreams – asked, actually sounding worried. “I just assumed you would, to make sure the child isn’t born a bastard…”

“I wouldn’t object,” Meng Shi said, her voice full of rich irony that only Meng Yao understood. “But I think your father might.”

“You don’t know my father,” Nie Mingjue said simply. As if it was simple, as if people were like that. “He’ll do the right thing.”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #meng yao #jin guangyao #nieyao #meng shi #my fic #my fics #three gates

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patheticwithanem · 4 years ago

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2020 in Retrospect

Hey friend,

I know it’s late, but I HAVE TO DO THIS. I kind of promised myself I’m writing about the year that was. I’m not exactly sure why; maybe it’s to put things in perspective going in to 2021? And today’s my fourth year anniversary with my employer, so I guess it’s perfect timing? (More on that later)

So I was going through my notes (I have this habit of writing down what happens on a daily basis - be it activities, emotions, drama, name it) and one thing’s for sure. 2020 SUCKED. It did. But I’m committing to this no matter what!

First things first: lots of profanities along the way. Well actually, I was about halfway writing the letter when fucking Tumblr decided to refresh and delete what I’ve been writing for about one fucking hour now. So I have to fucking do it all over again. If this is the Lord telling me to stop being sentimental about 2020, fret not my Lord! I’m one stubborn son of a bitch, so I’m carrying on.

Here’s how the rest of the year unfolded. 2020. Let’s go.

JANUARY. Reunions?

January 1. Had a get-together with a few relatives in Malabon. It was fun! I used to be so allergic to family reunions but I guess age creeping in changes you? You value people even more now? This was also the last time we’re able to spend some time with my uncle from Singapore. He brought his family to spend the holidays here. He’s a sweetheart and a great father who’s missed.

January 9. I attended a college dormmate’s wedding. I remember contemplating whether to go or not only to realize I’m actually lucky to be even invited given the fact that I chose to be distant for them for a long while. I also told myself that not showing up is so far from what I’m trying to be. Although I wasn’t there for the whole thing, I’m glad I did come. I was able to bond with my roommates once again whom I treated like brothers ten years ago and that was nice. A not-so-close dormmate even introduced me to his boyfriend and that’s huuuuge. The bride was beautiful too, and I’m glad she’s in the best place right now after all she’s been through. She’s a strong one, that girl.

January 11. Got invited to a birthday pool party of a colleague at work. I have to say I’m actually quite surprised I was invited to this. She’s always had my back though and always kind of looked after me, so I had to go. It was fun but I didn’t get drunk AT ALL.

January 12. AND THIS IS WHERE SHIT STARTED HAPPENING. The Taal Volcano erupted. It was awful especially for everyone living near the area because everything was covered with ash. It was also a day before my brother’s birthday and we thought the ashfall would be worse the next day so we decided to celebrate earlier.

January 19. Went to a fiesta. Did not expect to survive that at all. It was a different kind of neighborhood, but the people were nice.

January 25. Went to a public market with co-workers to buy clothes, eat chicken wings for dinner and then our regular fix of karaoke. Good times.

Anything else? I was able to book a birthday trip to Yogyakarta, which I eventually canceled because of youknowwhat. Tragic.

February. Blindside!

February 7. Blindside’s a bitch. Yes, that’s what I had written on my notes. I legitimately felt blindsided. So story: I have a friend who I found out was pregnant (let’s call her Ms. Preggy, sorry) and me and her bestfriend (let’s call him Work Son because he was my work son in a lot of ways) decided to hold an intervention for her. The four of us including a friend I’m going to call The-Now-Bestie (kind of a spoiler) whom I had a misunderstanding and was not in speaking terms with will be coming to Work Son’s place. Essentially, the goal was to make Ms. Preggy open up about her pregnancy and her issues with the douchebag father; make her feel that she has us and she doesn’t need to be alone in this. I think it went well, in that regard. However, the whole thing was awkward in epic proportions. It’s as if me and The-Now-Bestie didn’t want to acknowledge each other’s existence, and when we didn’t have a choice, we were sarcastic to each other. I also really felt like an outsider among the four that time; like I wasn’t supposed to be there and wasn’t really contributing to anything. It was a really lonely feeling. I decided to distance myself to them after that.

February 13. WINNERS AT WAR PREMIERE! Words can’t even express how excited I was to see some of my heroes again on screen! Parvati with that “phoenix rising from the ashes” confessional? Damn, girl! Still a fucking legend! It was also nostalgic Yul working his godfather magic once again. I’ve always seen him as a top-tier winner and someone I looked up to for what he represented to the Asian community and the history of Survivor. It was also nice seeing Kim, Tyson, Tony, Sophie, Natalie and Sandra. But I must say I kind of missed Todd. He was my favorite winner and was a great storyteller, a great strategist and a great character with an amazing comeback story. He would’ve been perfect for a season with this caliber of players. And as much as I hate Jeff Probst for shoving him down our throats, I wanted to see Cochran play with these winners! Caramoan’s my first season (a late superfan, yes) and he’s the very reason I got so hooked with the show. I used to think it’s a game where people like me never win. So to see someone like Cochran who’s awkward in every sense of the word (and owning it) win Survivor, it is very inspiring. I like speaking in metaphors and it’s funny how much metaphorical Survivor can be to how I see life now. I see Cochran and if he can win in Survivor, I feel like I can win in life, as silly as that sounds. Cochran sucked his first season, but he then went on to play this dominant game his second try while still managing to be the adorkable underdog that he is. I love that story. Man, I get so worked up when I talk about Survivor! I wish I had that same passion with anything else.

February 19. Mom slipped and had to be rushed to the nearest ER. Good thing there were no fractures and she was fine. I guess we can thank the fats for that? LOL

February 21 ‘til 23. WEEKEND STAYCATION! I needed this! Drinking at the hotel taproom with a live band? YES! Indian for lunch and surf-and-turf buffet for dinner? YES YES YES! That lamb chops, MY LORD. Thank you.

February 29. Leap Day. I started journaling again.

March. FUCKING COVID.

March 16. The Start of the Lockdown we all come to love now (punk, sarcasm).

March 17. Politics is so taboo to discuss especially over dinner. But then BAM. I had a major fight with my dad (and by major, I mean MAJOR in a get-out-of-the-house-in-the-middle-of-the-pandemic kind of major). It was basically about a comment he made that’s so misogynistic (towards the Vice President) that I just knew I can’t just let go. It was sooo bad I got all pissed, and when I’m pissed, I can get scary. Maybe it’s the voice or the eyes or both, but the fight got really heated on the verge of getting physical. Which now that I think about it is stupid just because of fucking different political views. Well, I can never get behind the President and they’re huge fans of him and I’ve come to terms with that but it’s just... bleh. I’m not even gonna try to rationalize it because I can’t. It’s just.. disgusting. Oh fucking well.

April. Wander-fucking-lust.

April 1. I started a 30-day Financial Detox which basically meant no unnecessary expenses. No online shopping, no paying for leisure. None. It was April Fools, but I was dead-set on saving! (Spoiler alert: I failed.)

April 6. Meltdown. I just really couldn’t hold it in anymore.

April 11. Dad’s birthday. After not talking for over a month (which is no easy feat in a tiny condominium unit), we acknowledged each other’s presence. By April 15, it’s like nothing happened anymore. He even gave me a home haircut (which for a beginner, is pretty good). On other news, I started watching The Politician on Netflix and t’was the day I started obsessing on Ben Platt and his music.

April 16. A year ago, I was enjoying sidewalk pho and almost making friends at Cu Chi Tunnels and the Saigon Skydeck of the Bitexco Financial Tower in Ho Chi Minh. Damn, covid.

April 18. That crazy border-crossing from Saigon to Phnom Penh a year ago. That was fulfilling. Damn, covid.

April 19. A year ago, I was experiencing sunrise at Angkor Wat. Wander-fucking-lust UGH.

April 30. That Town Hall shoutout from our company’s President because of reaching my quota from last month. That really felt good. As much as I hate to admit it, I like being validated from time to time. It definitely meant a lot especially coming from her who took a chance on me. I was patting my back.

MAY. Endure. Let Go.

May 14. KING TONY WON. Very well-deserved win. A disappointment of a season if you ask me, but props to the king for dominating an all-winners season. Respect for that. Also Natalie and Michele played great games as well and they should be very proud of themselves. I feel like a proud father to these winners HAHAHA!

May 16. Was pleasantly surprised with Dead to Me. That car scene between Jen and Judy on that ninth episode from the second season? Damn. That’s one of the few moments I teared up because of a TV show. That was powerful. All that tension building up and then that sudden release? I really felt that.

May 26. Why do I always feel all this fucking rage inside of me? I try to think of any triggers but I can’t seem to find one that’s actually reasonable. It’s like the isolation getting the best of me. I initially thought quarantine’s going to be a cakewalk for an introvert like myself, but it wasn’t the case. I feel like I’m losing my shit because I was stripped off of the usual things I have access to whenever I feel uneasy and anxious and angry like this. Endure, let go, I know. But it’s so much easier said than done, right?

JUNE. Breathe.

June 12. So the plan to sell the condo and find a new place is real. We went to this great place in Valenzuela and it was a great house and all but I felt weird. Maybe I was having trouble letting go? Maybe it’s just me being averse to change yet again?

June 15. Slept 6am for that How To Get Away With Murder series finale. That speech. VIOLA. Chills all over my body.

June 18. New phone was delivered. That was fast.

June 27. First time visiting the village we moved to. We were checking a different house this time and was already picturing us living there. Still felt weird, but maybe less.

Looking at it now, I realize almost nothing happened in this stretch of months. Pathetic.

JULY. Change (that’s not necessarily good lol)

July 3. The Anti-Terrorism Bill signed. FUCK THE CIRCUS THAT IS THE PHILIPPINE GOVERNMENT.

July 10. Doomsday. The ABS-CBN renewal disapproved. FUCK THE CIRCUS THAT IS THE PHILIPPINE GOVERNMENT. Also, that first house we checked was bought this day. First heartbreak.

July 22. Decided to donate to one of my elementary teachers to help finance school supplies for his students in the province. That felt good.

July 24. folklore’s goooood. This is the Taylor Swift sound that I love. (I had to write that down because that was a 2020 highlight to be honest)

AUGUST. Getting older. Again.

August 2. Donated to another cause: to help a really close friend’s mom (who’s a school principal) on financing their students’ lesson modules (they needed more paper so the donation was going to be used to buy more paper). That felt good.

August 3. Started obsessing on Dear Evan Hansen. I mean come on. HOW COME I ONLY KNEW OF THIS NOW?!?! The story, the acting, the soundtrack... it felt like I asked the Lord for a musical for me and he gave this on a silver platter.

August 9. Lasagna, baked sushi, lechon belly, pansit, cake. Weird combination, I know, but that’s me!

August 11. Discovered the Slowly app. Changed my life since then! I’m not even exaggerating. I guess it has to do with feeling extremely lonely amid the pandemic and getting this platform where you can talk to literally anyone while still keeping your anonymity. And it strips you off of instant gratification you’re so used to because you actually have to wait for your letters to be sent and to arrive. A great exercise for patience if you ask me! And since you have to wait, you make your letters longer and more worthwhile. It’s a platform free of judgment which relies heavily on building actual mental and emotional connections. It’s a gift, truly. NOT EXAGGERATING; YES I’M THAT LONELY.

August 23. The house search continued. This time, the South!

August 24. It was my first time watching a Korean drama and I gotta say I get the hype now. Korea makes great stories and they take their time when telling these stories. The story centering about mental health was definitely what got me to try watching It’s Okay to Not Be Okay, but the show’s so much more than that. That was a great watch.

SEPTEMBER. Finally some light?

September 1. Second year anniversary. I still really miss her.

September 5. My cat’s 5th birthday! Of course we had to celebrate for her with baked macaroni and burnt cheesecake.

September 11. Lost uncle. He gave a good fight.

September 19. SENSE8. It’s a show that doesn’t need any explaining. It’s the BEST. I love this cast SO MUCH. I remember thinking if I ever get a tattoo (which is unlikely), I’ll maybe have the title of that Sense8 series finale inked on me. AMOR VINCIT OMNIA. Love conquers all.

September 27. After a series of unfortunate events, we were led to this house on the same village we keep going back to, and the moment we saw it, we were sold. This is going to be our house. And it happened.

OCTOBER. Surprises?

October 6. Hooked up with someone I probably shouldn’t.

October 12. Booked a trip for next year because I’M HOPEFUL AS FUCK.

October 21. Had the best conversation I had in a long time.

October 22. Hooked up with someone I probably shouldn’t.

October 28. Organized a digital event for work. I’m still on the fence whether I’m proud of it or not. It was my first event, and I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. While I enjoyed all the preparation that came with it, from making that tactical marketing plan to coordinating with the organizers and my team, I felt like it was bland. There were lapses here and there and I know that we all tried the best we could, but maybe I just pictured it a little better in my mind? It wasn’t a flawless event and maybe I wanted it to be flawless. But it was fun. I never would’ve imagined me hosting an event, but I did.

NOVEMBER. Decisions.

November 14. So news came and we’re finally moving. The buyer of the condo got approved and it was only a matter of weeks to settle documents and payment and we’re good to go. I had mixed feelings about it. It took me back to that time we started looking for houses. I wasn’t exactly ready to let go of the place I grew with for the past five years. And I wasn’t also ready to let go of the convenience, and the relationships I only have started building with friends I found along the way. But at that moment I knew I had to be happy because they were happy. My family was happy. I knew I have to be happy.

November 21. Started all the packing. Packing meant decluttering and reminiscing, so letting go of more things which was overwhelming at first, but inevitable.

November 23. I had something checked in the hospital, and something happened and it wasn’t supposed to go that way but it did and it was so fucking bizarre lol

November 28. HAPPY MOVING DAY. It’s that day of the year. Stress was off the charts because of the time constraint and frankly, the lack of preparedness. Good thing a few people helped us with the rest of the packing. It was an impossible task for me and my sister alone so we were glad we got all the help we needed. I did most of the heavy lifting, so I had bruises all over my body for weeks, but after all was said and done, it felt surreal. Felt like everything coming full circle. That first night in the new home? I’ll never forget that. That was special.

December. The end of an era.

December 2. I went back to the condo to stay for a few more days. Get to feel the place one last time. Also lost a huge deal at work to a competitor. I usually really get depressed with these losses, but for some reason I felt indifferent about it. I guess it was my mind telling me I’ve mentally checked out of work already? That maybe it is really time to move on to something that’ll make me care about what I do again? Make me feel again?

December 4. Met someone (who we can call the Professor) I’ve been talking to for a while now. We’ve had some really great conversations leading to this night; talks at 3AM that’s kind of liberating? I was upfront about the moving and that I only have a few days left in the place which is probably why it happened. Professor was also upfront about leaving the country in a few months for an opportunity to work and do research in Japan for five fucking years. It was awkward at first; but we eventually warmed up to each other and spent the night together.

December 5. Things escalated pretty quickly. The Professor gave me a shower (that was weird but I was feeling it and I thought it was sweet and sexy?). We cuddled until we slept and there was breakfast prepared when I woke up. I don’t usually get to experience this kind of stuff so I really appreciated that. I was feeling it. I thought I can get used to this! I left the place and was invited back again so I stayed over for another night. We’ve had a few more interesting conversations. I was not expecting some of the things we discussed especially the talk about long-distance relationships. The Professor asked me what I think about it and I was honest; I’m not against it but it’s not something I’ll take a chance on if I wasn’t sure about it. Mantra’s always been connection first before commitment. I’m not the “take a leap of faith” kind-of guy; I needed to be sure. Or at the very least be really mentally and emotionally connected with the person. I thought that made perfect sense. I still do.

December 6. So it was finally goodbye. Me and my sister went to the nearest church to donate a few clothes and shoes and to attend a mass. Bid farewell to the Professor too and promised each other to keep in touch. I also had an awkward encounter with my sister’s “friend” who she sneaked in the condo for God knows what for. Pretty sure they did the nasty.

December 13. We went to our old house (the one I spent my younger years in) to get a few stuff for the new house. I only really wanted to get my old bicycle because I want to be biking regularly for the next year. I want to take that fitness journey seriously! So I got the bike and I got to spend some time with some childhood friends. Good stuff.

December 15. A teammate resigned at work. The funny thing is he did it after getting that 13th month bonus HAHAHA! I can’t blame him though after learning about the salary he gets when he’s performing three functions in the team. That’s insane. But it really made me wonder: am I still in this for the long haul? Or do I move on too?

December 17. So I had my work desk and wardrobe delivered. Felt so nice buying things for my room!

December 19. We got a new dog! Another French Bulldog. He’s pretty sweet. Someone’s not happy! (MY MOM)

December 22. And then this happened. We were supposed to meet after my dentist appointment (which I only used as an excuse to meet and I thought that was obvious) but the Professor never showed up. I waited for FIVE FREAKIN HOURS. I had like clothes with me because we agreed I sleepover but FUCK. Good thing a friend kept me company, but that was horrible. I thought YOU NEVER DO THAT TO ANYONE. I deserve better.

December 24. We had our house blessed. It was all super spontaneous; we invited a few friends and relatives over and had an intimate gathering. Mom got emotional (AGAIN).

December 27. So Ms. Preggy (from February - oooh that rhymed) had her son baptized. Since she lives a little father from the city, we decided to have a little staycation with some friends there too. The-Now-Bestie and Work Son was there, and we had beer and homecooked food and a slew of great conversations to cap off the year.

Also December 27. I knew I needed to get something off my chest. And I just had to say it.

��You’re so unfair. You shouldn’t have done that. Gave me false hopes. Gave me a “3-day trial period” only to disappear without any warning. Made promises you never intended to keep. You could’ve just told me you’re not interested anymore and I would’ve been fine with that but instead, you ghosted me. For the past few weeks since that weekend, it never seemed like you wanted to get to know me better. Or even just keep the communication going. It’s been one-sided and I wonder: has it always been this way? Maybe I’m remembering things differently. I told you I like you and I meant that. I’m still wrapping around my head why and how it happened to be honest. Maybe it’s that weekend? Maybe it’s the conversations leading up to when we first met? I don’t know. But things changed after that and I should ask you for an explanation but it’s really not the point. The point is I thought we can work something out and you hurt me. You may feel like you’re running out of time because of Japan but it’s no excuse to do that to anyone, really. You seem so sure about what you want so I hope you get whatever that is. Merry Christmas. Thanks for the memories.”

That was intense.

December 28. The Professor responded. “I apologize... I am getting attached... I had to “ponder on its implications to me in the long run”... I decided to slow down... It hurts... “That weekend that we met felt like I knew you before”... I am afraid... “You have no idea how hard it is to leave everything behind every 4-5 fucking years not because I wanted it but because I have to”... I still hope to continue whatever we have... “I will always remember you. Please don’t forget about me.”... YADA YADA YADA.

I know. You know me. I try to empathize as much as possible. But I mean, come on. These are things I already know. It’s not what I needed to hear.

December 31. I needed to say something one last time. There’s already a lot of uncertainties in the world with COVID and life and everything else. I knew I needed answers; I want the binary. I want the black or white for this one. I’m not taking the gray with me next year. So I asked the following questions:

“What do you want from me? Do you want to be friends? Or we stick with occasional catching up on Viber every once in a while (because that’s what it sounds like to me)?”

“What do you want to get from your last two months here? What are you looking for? Just make the most “fun’? Or look for something that will stick?”

“Have you told me anything you really didn’t mean?”

“That one time we talked about long-distance, were you asking me?”

Fast forward to now: I never got the answer I needed. I guess this is one of those rare occasions where no answer is the answer. And after a few weeks of contemplating about it, I am leaving it behind in 2020.

I’m actually at peace with that.

So there you have it. The suck-fest that is 2020. The first month of the new year wasn’t so bad. I feel this great energy. This year’s going to be different. I did tell you that this letter’s perfect timing. That’s because I’ve resigned and I’m moving on. A friend told me a while ago that he’s proud of me for finally taking action. The 2018 version of myself wouldn’t have done what I did and he was happy for me. I wanted a clean slate and I took it. That I was finally taking ownership of my life.

I was elated. My friend usually spoils me with compliments and encouragement and my ever reliable negative self-image tend to disagree with him but for the first time in a very long time, it felt right. I’m not usually excited for New Years, but I guess I am?

I say bring it on, 2021.

Until then,

Patheticwithanem

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