You are currently browsing the monthly archive for May, 2007.
It is an all-encompassing kind of sadness. The kind from which there is no relief, even in sleep. I am reluctant to say “in the end” because with him, I am never sure that there is one. Nor do I want one.
A little over twelve hours ago, I found myself breaking up with the man I love. We inherently want and need different things, and I think in part, we have always known this. But love is the irresistable desire to be irresistably desired, and he is just that. Irresistable. He called us “the quintessential college romance” and I said that we were not quintessential anything. But I know what he was trying to say. The quintessential college romance is the relationship that you look back on, and be thankful that for however brief, you had the privilege of experiencing.
What touched me deepest, is that he said it was not because of one or the other’s failings. It was always the two of us, back to back, against the rest of the world. There is no shame in not beating the odds. We tried not once, but twice.
He told his brother that I was the girl that captured his imagination. And when I look at him, I see everything that I want. A man truly good, courageous, strong and wise. The kind of man you not only sacrifice a dream for but share with. The kind of man you trust to build the foundations of a life and a family with.
And yet, we have our differences. I am wildly carefree, hungry for experience and to chase after my dream. And he a few years older, anxious to begin a life with someone, or at least be in a relationship that is headed towards that direction. We needed things from each other that we just weren’t able to give. And in that moment, I have never wanted more to be someone other than myself.
Even in the parting, I could sense that incredible love and strength that I have been so in awe of. It was in the tenderness of the way he told me he loved me, called me by my petname and gently said “goodnight” instead of goodbye.
The other day, I had a long conversation with my friend, Matilda. She is in many ways, like her Roald Dahl namesake: young, precocious, and wise beyond her years. However what is very different about my Maltida, is if you were to talk to her, you wonder if she’s ever had a childhood.
Matilda aspires to be the CEO of the most prestigious investment banks one day. And to do so, she’s willing to do anything to stay in the country. (She is, of course, an international student and subject to the same visa restrictions that I grapled with throughout college) To guarantee a visa, she’s willing to marry, or get have a baby. She is single-minded in her pursuit of success, which at times I think is incredibly admirable, and at other times, completely unbalanced in her way of thinking.
The thing about Matilda though, is whether you agree or disagree with her methods or motive, she makes you think. There are many things that differentiate the way I work and think from Matlida, but one of the biggest differences is that she is all head, and I am all heart. It’s not that one method is better or worse, rather talking with her made me realize some of my strengths and flaws.
I’ve been told that I am analytical and insightful, and I think it’s because I am fairly introspective. Somewhere between freshmen and sophomore year of college, I grew out of my shell and developed people skills. I naturally gravitate towards teamwork, and find diversity refreshing. In terms of leadership, I believe in synthesizing ideas and making people feel accountable and valued. And I think the mark of a good leader is someone who genuinely cares about people, and can energize his/her teammates towards a common vision. Leadership is something that should be organic and natural, because power is not something you enforce upon others, but is something entrusted to you by those you lead. I have a clear view of what I want, and though I may not have the talent or the means, I have the passion to sustain and persevere in the long run.
So those are my strengths in a nutshell. My faults, however are the main things holding me back. While I have a clear objective, I’m not so great at forming the steps in between to get there. Faith, is not an excuse for poor planning, and many of my decisions are left to whatever happens to come my way. I am not talentless, but I don’t have enough of it to get away without working. Which is another way of saying I don’t work hard enough. I have a tendency to talk the talk, without walking the walk. This holds me back, because while I’m resourceful and great at making the most of opportunities, I often take the first one that comes along, simply because it’s there.
In just a few months, I am turning 23. I have already graduated, and will be working my first full-time job. I am, in every sense of the word, an adult. The time for childish things is over, and time instead for me to bear the good and bad of responsibility. To be responsible doesn’t mean to settle down or the burden of paying the bills. But instead, to be accountable to no one but yourself for your actions and decisions. There are no curfews, no RAs, no parents to keep you from getting drunk, pregnant or fail a class. In this day in age, especially since many of us go to college, it seems our generation has delayed growing up. It’s not that we are any less equiped to make decisions than our parents (in fact, we’re probably more equiped, since a greater proportion of us go to college.) But we certainly are more reluctant to take on responsibility.
Growing up doesn’t mean you stop dreaming and become a dull, mindless drone. I don’t think I’ll ever entirely stop dreaming. I have spent a great deal of time reflecting on college, critical on the opportunities I missed, and things I wished I could have changed. But now is the time to stop looking backwards, and start looking (and planning) ahead. With an upcoming transatlantic move, things are bound to change. I may have made my share of mistakes, but one thing that is a great quality about me – I don’t make the same mistakes twice. My conversation with Matilda might have been uncomfortable, illuminating more of my faults than strengths, but like most medicines, it was good for me. Passion is a key to success, and that begins in your heart – not your head. And what Matilda has taught me, is to put the two together.
You are the oak. Strong and stable, firm in your ways. When others look at you, they see the boundaries of territory; where their field ends and yours begins. Because that’s who you are. You are someone who refuses to play at a lower level and instead demand if any interaction is to occur at all, it’s by your rules.
You are, what I imagine the essence of strength to be. Tall and stately, not proud. A refusal to bow your head to any man. You tell me that the most important thing to a person, is their ego. Pride in who they are, and where they’ve been, and never any more or less. You tell me to firmly fix my sight on my reflection, to critically acknowledge my weaknesses and strengths. To be humble in all things, but never bending to another’s will.
You and I, we exhibit strength in different ways. You are tall and inpenetreble. Confident in knowing you act in the right. And I – I am more like the reed. More resiliant than strong. My existance is a stubborn refusal to be snuffed out, but bending and changing with the times. And while your tendency is to crack under the pressure, my weakness is the inability to stand tall when things get rough.
Though rooted in the same beliefs, sometimes I wish I were more like you. I wish I were stronger, more firm in my ways and more decisive. Something I am only beginning to learn. For now, all I can say is, I’m glad you are my oak tree. And like any tree, rooted deep in the soil, firm and not going anywhere.
it’s undenaiable that throughout college, I’ve faced some pretty outrageous roommates. There was the girl who liked to have sex in the room when I was asleep (and got upset when I tried to leave), the girl who liked to steal things, the girl who was an insomniac and repeated freshmen year, and now – the manic depressive angry rich girl who claims she’s the descendent of the Prophet.
While prior situations involved dorm housing (and therefore, some degree of policing and flexibility) this time I’ve moved off campus and am locked in a one-year lease. The likelihood of her violating the lease is probable, given she is more interested in screwing people over than in getting back her deposit. (Although I’m beginning to wonder if I might have misjudged this, since she’s been looking for replacements). I also wouldn’t put it past her to hire a locksmith to pick my door while I’m gone. (I’ve temporarily moved in with a friend of mine who has a 4-person apartment to herself, to focus on my exams.)
There are a few things on my mind that I’d like to get out in the open and whether it’s because I’m too nice, too passive, or just feel like it’s not going to get me anywhere, I keep trying to take the high road. Tonight, we’ll find out if it’s even working.
Amidst all this drama (which is a huge distraction) I can’t help but wonder if I do this to myself. What are the chances of landing a miserable roommate every year of college? (Save two semesters.. when I moved out on emergency) Whether it’s lack of planning, failure to manage personalities.. I’m not sure.
There are a lot of things I’d like to tell say in response to some of the emails I’ve received. It’s not that I’m afraid to speak my mind, it’s just it wouldn’t get me anywhere other than a screaming match. The amount of outside, irrelevant information she brings into a dispute is ridiculous. “You can contact the sorority to remove yourself as my little.” Right. Nevermind the fact that it has nothing to do with rent, or that she’s been absent for two semesters, isn’t missed and isn’t liked.
Up until yesterday, I felt intimidated and scared. Because when push comes to shove, EvilRoommate has her parents in the country, the financial means to walk out and a crazy mother who has already called and screamed at me before.
But after an extensive conversation with Veer, and the support I’ve gotten from M, I realize that maybe it’s a matter of perspective. Because when things get tough, I have friends offering a place to stay, a loving supportive boyfriend to bounce ideas off of and remind me of what’s important. I have the financial means of supporting myself without turning to my parents like a child, and I’m on good terms with the landlord. So maybe I don’t have parents who are likely to go beserk and scream at an otherwise defenseless college kid. And maybe she treats me like I’m a charity case (in spite of the fact that she’s got loans, and pays less rent). Even in spite of her “wealth” as Veer reminded me, I have a pretty sweet life. In two days I will be graduating from a top tier university. I live in one of the nicest areas of New York, have pleanty of gadgets, and the means to pursue my interests, be it photography or martial arts. I travel when I like, go to exotic places and meet fascinating people. The future is looking bright, with great plans and adventure beyond the horizon. I may not have the support of people related to me by blood or marraige, but I have the support and respect of those who give it willingly. And while I don’t have as many means as she does, by the grace of God, I’ve never been in want. Though it’s been harder, but the rewards are sweeter.
So on Friday, I will be celebrating my independence from one of the bitterest, most caustic personalities that I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet. But the anxiety is gradually being replaced by strategy, and the insecurity, by counting my blessings. What I’m hoping for is that by 9PM tonight when I’m going to have to talk to her, the anger will be replaced by pity.
Nearly all of us characterize ourselves through change. We talk about what we were in high school, or college, the way things were, and what might happen to us five years down the road. I’m certainly no different.
Today is the first day of May. In one day, my brother turns 21. One day ago, I attended my last class in college and was stressing about exams. Tomorrow, I won’t be stressing about at least two of them, because by then, they will be over. Six months ago today, I was getting ready for semi formal on a cruise around Manhattan. Veer had just flown in from across the continent, and naturally, everything was up in the air. We hadn’t seen each other in over a year, and everything was new and familiar at the same time. Nothing was official yet (at least, not for another two weeks) and I had yet to go back and forth on the idea of staying in the US or going back to Asia. The biggest worries in my mind were SG and M, which now in hindsight, weren’t such a big deal afterall. Costa Rica hadn’t happened. I didn’t know I’d be jumping off 200 m waterfalls attached to a thin rope. I hadn’t gotten the notion to live in a latin country in my head, nor started full into the senioritis swing. I hadn’t committed to a country, told anyone about RG, or done anything about the prof.
Six months from now, somethings will be known and some not. Megan will be married, Ada not yet. I will be in Asia, and so will Veer (whether we’ll still be together is an altogether different story.) I will be working, researching grants for law schools, and probably applying as well. I’ll be looking into programs in Costa Rica, getting certified to teach rock climbing, and all the necessary and extraneous paperwork. I’ll be well into the first few months of work, probably starting to get a feel for the pressures of office politics. Probably not dating. I will have told Angela, but probably not Denise – we probably won’t be speaking. And I probably will have yet to bump into RG or made any further headway with the father.
Six months from now, Veer and I probably will be speaking, he might visit wherever I’m living and it will be awkward, probably more than this time. Hopefully by then, one or both of us will have come to a conclusion, and we won’t be swinging on this ridiculous pendulum.
Among all these changes, I can’t help but wonder how many of these will be actually significant in the long run. As much as I define myself by lables, these lables are constantly changing. Girlfriend, student, employee.. I’m wondering how important it is to figure out who you amidst the shifting times, and how important it is to just simply know yourself in spite of change. Is it more important to learn to roll with the punches, or just to walk past them?
There isn’t any particular insight behind this entry, save for the fact that there’s a lot up in the air, Veer and I are at a weird juncture and more and more.. I’m wishing it is a year and a half from now, and that I’m getting on a plane back to Costa Rica.
