What's important in life is that we've met people along the way, enjoyed their company, made memories, and moved on. That when we grow old, reminiscing in our rocking chair, we smile and remember that we've touched each others lives one fine day and made us a better person. And that’s you to me.

Choices…options…alternatives… recourse…

Does it matter in the end?

Every now and then I am torn between two options.  Love versus career. Freedom versus commitment. Money versus family . Generalist versus specialist. And with this, every decision entails a sacrifice.

Why can’t I have both?.

Sounds childish, really. And selfish too. My friends think I seem to appear overindulge in that bratty side of me, though I’m not a spoiled bitch. They knew I am lucky to have a mom&dad-to-the-rescue type of family, but they also knew that sometimes luck is not just on my side. That’s how fair God is amid all the world’s biased disposition. He does not give most all at once, at least to me.

It only takes a matter of time to realize why things don’t turn out the way we wished for. Or why prayers have been left unanswered or delayed. And only to find out later that it is essential in sharpening our skills hence becoming a better person. We have been so hard on ourselves, trying over and over, just to be the best of the best. We have been chasing this race longer than we think,  always competing for recognition and prestige, which only matters to those who control the standard.

Honestly, I might grow tired of this forward-always-onward pace. Was it really worth it working our buts off upgrading to obtain peer acceptance into a certain society? Career-wise perhaps yes, but its never an assurance. We are always slaves of time and circumstances. There’s no easy way to success, no short cut.

In the end, ruminating in our twilight years,  as quoted by many, what matters is how well we lived our lives. It is not measured by how popular we are, how many titles we had, and how many sub-specialties we placed on our wall board. It is suffice to say that life would  have better meaning if we partake in someone's struggles along the way, put a smile in their faces, and touched their lives.  And lastly, to me, what matters in the end is how well my children have become, how good I am as a wife to my husband, how well my husband loved me, how I am as a sister, a daughter and a friend.

Our short stay in this world is a reflection of ourselves, not of how far we have achieved, but of how less we have regrets in our life, in the end.

How could I forget this line? I have once written this to a beleaguered soul one foolish rotten night. Perhaps, in keeping up a front, I defensively protect myself and try to squeeze my way out of that particular jam. Had I foreseen the gravity of complication, I should have cast the white flag and scream to the world to quit it and live their own shortcomings.


I was stoned in shock when this 4-word line was passed on from one person to another, reused in their testi/discussion board, like secretly conniving for some allies in the open world. Classic, isn't it? It is indeed tempting for them to distort the angst, or misconstrue the story. And in that futile hour, I stood desolate, helpless even.


Let's face it. The world will never get rid of bullies. Some people are much harder than steel, they never reach their melting point. If by chance they can hurt you, they will never stop mocking you even if the past is as far as 6 years ago, ebbing away. Perhaps, blinded by their stupid notion that they were the ones that were stepped upon, when in reality, it was just their baffled mind playing tricks on them. A mind, hovering with colors of false hopes, yet in actuality, nothing is really uttered, not even a promise.


I have seen this kind of effort done in bold strokes through well-written letters, pretending to be a fly-in-distress, who ought to be pitied, taken cared and protected, almost pleading for attention despite being aware of someone's present commitment. And when this being have been forgotten, appearing crushed by the pain from unreciprocated passion, a torrent of vengeance from a dysfunctional family came rushing to wreck havoc, hurting people along the way, especially those who were barely innocent and fragile. Whose rights have been stepped upon, really? After all this mockery from five "phooeys" and counter "shoot-outs", I could guess this one was never sorry to have shattered the trust of a delicate being by one's acts and still has internal conflict unresolved.


Despite of it all, I was in my most diplomatic tolerance then, and am in my maximum perseverance now. I have not gobbled half-baked pies, those were served whole, rather than a vengeful throng of lies from half-truths and half-imagination.


True, I may have revisited my past too, waved hi and hello, and fired a couple of unresolved inquiries just to put an end on wondering, which I could not have done bravely have I not moved on.


Our wound may be deep and painful. And traces of our past plus the slash of heartbreak takes a long time to heal. Worst yet, some scars remain forever. But in my experience, no one should ever expect gain from loving a person. Should we fall, we still have to move on.


The world is our roadmap, the "road is our catwalk", we may not know what route we may ride into, but we know where we are heading to. So, move on. I just hope their healing process have not transformed them into a bitter and antagonistic person.