The past fourteen days ended quite too rapidly and I don’t know if I’m accounting them in such manner because I have mostly caught my Zs way ahead of my usual 1-2 am sleeping time or it’s just that when faced with an ill situation that leaves me agape and surprised as Dora and Boots when Swiper is, for crying out loud, finally in the range of their sight, everything seems to have been hit by VLC’s speed up option. To say that those two weeks was a roller coaster ride is yards away from the appropriate description I want achieve and not to mention, being inept in using metaphors and unfair to roller coasters that fancy me. Had I written a version of this post on every day of last week, this would have several variation in its concluding paragraph and the primary emotion it would want to suffuse. My fingers are crossed that what happened today is a definite ending to my potential Maalaala Mo Kaya entry. What took place will be condensed as much as possible and narrated hereinafter.
So it is no longer a hypothesis and is a proven theorem that my sisters are luckless in the love department. Maybe not entirely but if they happen to be lucky, there is something in that luck that is also being unlucky. If you cannot pin the idea down, then how is “a guy whom you love so much, complete with the falling royal red hearts, revealing to you that he’s been divorced twice and has four spawns” to explain that? Guess what, I’m revealing you’s antecedent in the wrong sequence: my sister who’s desperate to get married. Flame me not ’cause how else would you describe someone who officially affirms that she and her suitor are together after two weeks of chasing and who forcefully wants the wedding on May, even getting to the point that she had us believe that it was the guy’s idea originally?
To sum up the incident from two weeks ago, with her narrow mindset that’s good enough to be considered close working at its best, she eloped.. not with Dagoberto but with her notion that until the time he steps on the Philippine shore, he would support her with his 150 dollars whose frequency at which they would come God knows what. Either she is too fed up with her self-deprecating thoughts or too brilliant to tell her friends that we beat her just to sway their sympathy and win the comfort of their homes. As narrated by my mother herself, she went forth with a smile and a hint of scorn on her face.
She wasn’t home for quite some time and so was my mother’s usual self after being upbraided by my sister for not gifting her a laptop, for entering her room when she doesn’t want her to, for scolding her back when she was still tameable and simply for being her mother — okay, I just made the last one up but all of them allude to that, don’t they? No wonder her eyes were turgid from all the crying. And to be honest, as much as I wanted to show my sister that my life does not overlap with hers, I did shed some tears too after witnessing our mother’s self-worth decrease like the coordinates of a half-life graph.
Last week, for the most part it, was persuading her to come back home, to my displeasure. Hours ago, she finally went back with traces of hunger on her shrinking belly and her bullheadedness still present. But that’s okay because there is nothing more comforting than seeing my mother’s relief upon getting the household semi-tidy before my father’s arrival on the 28th and heart-warming than the thought of gathering everyone’s physical presence (except my eldest sister’s) on the first day of 2010. Also, I am happy that I no longer have to pat my stomach and have it suffer small servings of food intended to be my breakfast, lunch and dinner because apparently, there is no more reason for my mother to trim down the production of quality food in quality amount.