A CHEESE/DISS TO SEND US OFF
Goodbyes are always hard. Seeing my friends at work off to their newfound careers was sad. These people are really good friends of mine since college and being able to share almost two years of my professional life with them made the whole shitty corporate world more manageable. More importantly, they made it totally rock and roll. Our office would never be the same again without them. At least for me. Their empty cubes are a strong testament to that.
And now, until the company finally hires their rightful replacements, I have to be the sole writer in the office. Deadlines are doubled and more unreasonable than ever. Lunches will be duller too. 😦 And I don’t know if I’m up for new responsibilities and opportunities ahead of me.
Despite the ass-pain of saying goodbye, I think I’ve slowly managed to master the art of restraining myself from bawling like a baby whenever someone leaves. I guess, through the years, I finally accept that everything in this life is only for now (Thanks Avenue Q.) Change will always have to stab us in the back. I think it’s time to let it kill us. So, you know, we can be reborn again or something.
Sure, there are really no goodbyes. Unless you so deliberately want to never see the person again, there are always a whole slew of ways to keep what and who matters. Whether it’s through daily YM conversations, 30 minutes of tete-a-tete over coffee or dinner, a movie date or a ride home, what’s important is you are willing to go out of your way to keep the relationship going. To make everything not that different.
So you don’t have to cuss on change so much.
It’s gonna be sad. At times, you might want to lock yourself in the bedroom–as long as there’s a lifetime supply of pirated movies, Diet Coke and Ruffles to live by. But eventually, we all have to get up off our tushy and seek an alternative for our usual coping mechanism.
Denial is sooo overkill.
Your call. Face the harsh realities. Or recur 100 Years of Solitude in a non-fictional existence.
We can’t stop people from leaving us. But we can run from losing ourselves completely and from drowning to our flawed beliefs that everything will have to stay the same.
Because it can’t. It had to happen for us.
Okay, I think I’ve gone to the cheesy bandwagon again.
So, the whole parting ways business sucks, eh? It’s actually worse than seeing the whole emo community congesting public transportations, restaurants and malls. Adorned by their skull accessories, bangs-filled hairstyles, dark shirts and stony expressions strongly inspired by “the world doesn’t like me and I’m so depressed” bullshit propaganda.
In a parallel universe, I could actually die just seeing them. I could slowly die from vomiting over their black eyeliners drooping grossly from their swollen eyes, which are too worn out from crying for their broken hearts and dreams and for relentlessly clamoring for public attention.
Like me. Love me. Respect me. Worship me.
Ah, so ghastly.