Life as he knows it

For the past few days, over the weekend mostly, I've been wondering about Freddy and his life. Specifically, how I figure in it.

I don’t have any problem with this emotional intimacy thing that OF has gotten into my head. Honestly, I don’t. If only Freddy would behave accordingly.

Last week, I celebrated my birthday. My 43rd, to be exact. I’d invited a few friends to a small dinner and videoke party. (The only thing to have in these here parts.) Of course, I invited Freddy.

That day, after a short meeting at my office between him and me, he confirmed the time.

“We’ll probably be there by 6:30 after work,” I replied, adding that we’ll be staying till late. A friend had offered his pad. “You’re gonna be there, right?”

“Sure,” Freddy answered with his usual confidence. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

I made a joke of his melodrama but he had this look in his eyes like there was something else he very much wanted to say. It was that shy, adorable look he gives me whenever he steals a look at me. I catch him at it sometimes. I wonder what look I have on my face when I do.

Anyway.

Freddy has his own life; I’m not a significant part of it. I’m in this area in his life that’s more the alternative, a corollary to his professional life as a doctor, considering that his medical practice takes precedence over his corporate functions. The latter he can easily drop; he doesn’t need it. And as I’m just a small part of the corollary, even, I’m more of an amusement for him than anything.

I’m being melodramatic myself.

I’m not saying that he doesn’t take me seriously or he has no sincere feelings for me. He does; that much is clear. But should push come to shove, his medical practice comes first. Duh. Of course, as this supports his family and that comes first.

And that’s where the problem lies: I don’t have that. Worse, I don’t have that with him.

Anyway. Moving on.

I’ll be back in school sometime January next year. Whoopee. It seems that the older I get, the greater the need for diversion. At PhP8,000 every six weeks, this management course has got to be the most expensive so far.

Which gets me to thinking: was law school a diversion? No. It was an investment. Didn’t pan out, but it was no diversion. I had dreams built on that one.

I can’t say that I have too many heartaches, but the few that I do have really go deep. I’m afraid that I’ll never get over them.

Freddy’s probably snoring his head off at this very moment, while I’m choking back tears, trying to find solace in words. Sometimes, even these don’t come easy.

I hate falling into the victim paradigm but I don’t think it’s possible to escape it. I wish I could die of a heartache. But no, that would would be the easy way out, wouldn't it? So. Till I pay back my karmic debt or learn my karmic lesson, I'll be blogging here and whining about it.