Lady Sansa

Myamoto Musahi the great Japanese thinker and swordsman also believed that true intellectual maturity is reached at thirty...

Given the infinity of planets in the Universe it would be foolish to assume there aren't extra terrestrial lifeforms somewhere abound

Si Damien, HI DAMIEN..

Alam ko ngayong wala ng pera sa account namin. Naubos niya sa mga kaibigan niyang jologs.

Panggabi trabaho niya. Callcenter agent, ako naman nagsusulat sa dyaryo . May trangkaso ako kagabi.

Pagdating niya, siyempre di pa ako nakamumog at di ako nakahilamos, nandun na ang mga kaibigan niya. Sige okay lang..Tapos pinagbili niya ako ng ice sa 711. Sa labasan pa yun ng village namin. Ni di ako makaimik, medyo nagtitimpi sa sarili dahil di ako nakapag CR para umihi, sumakay ako ng trike at pumunta sa 711.

Pagkarating ko sa bahay, komportable sila sa maliit naming bahay. Nandun siya. Hayun.

Lasing na naman.

Masama ang pakiramdam ko, tumutulo ang uhog ko sa potato chips para iserve ko sa kanila. Alam ko makukuha nila ang trangkaso ko.

Sa una okay lang ang usapan, trabaho at yung mga pinaalis sa training tapos wala na. Nagkanya kanya na sila. May wifi ako sa bahay, nagkanya kanya silang nagsurf sa mga tablet or phone nila.

Ngayon naman, sa kalasingan niya at kita niya sa akin na naiirita na ako dahil ang kalat ng bahay, anya niya na kunin ang ATM namin.

Sa totoo lang ako ang nagbibigay ng allowance niya dahil pinagiipon namin yun para sa pasko.

- huwag mo akong hiyain sa mga kaibigian ko! pera ko yan! AKIN NA ANG ATM KO

- PERA NATIN! atsaka di naman sila nakatingin! alam mo kunin mo na lang ang natira kong pera,heto sukli sa akin ng 711

- TANG INA naman! pera ko! Huwag mo akong hiyain!

- GAGO., pag kinuha mo ang ATM natin, WALA na TAYO! bahala ka sa buhay mo maghanap ng malilipatan! GAGO!

Nagwalk out. Actually di na bago ang ganitong sitwasyon. Ubos ang savings niya, aasa na naman siya sa akin..2 taon na kaming ganito.

Pagbalik ko, nandun pa ang callcenter friends niya. Kinuha ko na ang gamit ko, nagdeposit ako sa lilipatan ko kaagad at di na ako bumalik.

Iniwan ko ang ATM niya. Bahala na siya.

I remember the times when he asks money from me and never pays me back.

Oh wait..the good sex..yes i remember that quite vividly.

The sweetest thing he ever did was taking me out and buy each other some nice sneakers.

He had this dream. He said that he was in a white room and he's waiting for me. He waited for me and waited and he missed me.

He woke up and thought that the dream was a reality and then he saw me sleeping right next to him.

He hugged me and said that he thought he'd lost me and he's sorry for hurting my feelings the other day.

Dear Young Woman with the Shitty Boyfriend,

Your boyfriend is a total clown. Frankly, you have very nice hair and I think you deserve better.

My suspicions about him first arose shortly after I sat down. Despite the fact you both appeared to be writing essays (a fact later confirmed when he took it upon himself to tell you exactly what was wrong with yours), he spent a significant amount of time bopping along to the cafe’s music system while simultaneously pretending to type. I say ‘pretending’ because I refuse to believe that anyone can seriously focus on writing (an academic essay no less) while shaking their head to the Bruno Mars and grunt-humming under their breath.

AdvertisementThe thing is, everyone’s been out with obnoxious gits. It’s part of the glorious tableaux of romantic experience - we put up with dating assholes so that later on we can dine out on the tales of all the things they did that defy human understanding. I’ve gotten huge mileage out of the guy who turned to me with an admiring look and said ‘Well done’ when I told him I’d be paying for my own meal on a first (and last) date. And I’m sure somewhere out there, a man is entertaining whole swathes of people with the story of how I lectured him on abortion rights before the main course had arrived. We make mistakes, and we date mistakes. And we survive.

But I didn’t like how your boyfriend undermined your intelligence when you asked him for his opinion on your essay. I didn’t like that he suggested it carried all the sophisticated analysis of a 15 year old’s paper, and that HE would never make that mistake. I did like that you corrected him when he then tried to lay claim to always receiving High Distinctions, but I didn’t like how it led him to turn on you in a huff and decide to give you the silent treatment.

Being subjected to the silent treatment, that cold withdrawal of acknowledgement, because you’ve stood up for yourself and asserted your right to be treated with respect - even in disagreement - is a bad sign in a relationship. Eventually, you’ll find that you twist and conform and tread lightly just to avoid being punished for having a different opinion and being unafraid to share it.

Do not give your time, energy and love to someone who’s intent on making you feel like you might not be as smart as them. Because one day, you might start to believe it. And that would be a terrible shame.

We have to make our own mistakes, I know that. In the end, it won’t matter much what I say and I’m certainly not trying to make you or anyone else feel like you might need help to understand these things. I know that you’re fine on your own.

But I’m writing this mainly because of what happened when your boyfriend went to the toilet. I took the opportunity of his absence to tell you to trust your instincts when it comes to your brain and your writing; to let you know that there was at least one person present who might also see those gaslights that occasionally flicker in the room that houses your relationship. And rather than telling me to get lost or to mind my own business (which would be your right), you seemed relieved and thankful - as if maybe you needed to hear it, because you weren’t quite sure if that troubled grey cloud hanging over your head was real or all in your head.

We women aren’t really taught to trust our instincts. Instead, we’re taught to be polite. To bend and fold in the face of opposition. We are expected to maintain the illusion of feminine compliance, lest we deal with the consequences of defying it. I know what it feels like to sit there quietly as someone lists all of my faults, and to not know to what extent I am ‘allowed’ to disagree or retaliate.

Thankfully, I haven’t done any of these things for some years now. And while it doesn’t always make me happy, it never makes me feel trapped.

Love,

Anais

I love you Victor.