Stuck in Love

Chapter 1

Running in circles.

That’s what my mind is doing right now.

It’s like the same scenario is on replay like a last song syndrome.

I just can’t move on.

I know I should get over it but how could I? He’s occupying all the lobes of my brain and all the chambers of my heart.

I’ve been staring blankly on the ceiling for nearly two hours. Dreaded. Confused.

It’s 10:37 PM.

I should get some sleep, I have to wake up at 1 AM. But I just can’t. He is in my inappropriate thoughts. And I can’t stop thinking about him, about what happened this morning. What could have possibly made him do that? What was he thinking?

I bit my lower lip and close my eyes but I just happen to recall everything.

***

At 25, I was single. I neither chose nor fated to be one. It was just, maybe it was, not yet time for another relationship. That’s why no one’s coming along the way. I was not even looking for one but yes, I was hoping; yet, I didn’t mind waiting if there’s really someone to wait for.

I had only been into two romantic relationships since I was born. The first one was with a varsity player in school and the second was with a friend’s friend, which lasted long.

I was not the very ligawin type. I was not even the crowd favorite. No one actually likes me that much, I think—well, except for a handful of friends, I was not sure.

I had a break up twice. And those were two of the most memorable times I had as of saying.

They both happened a few days before the supposed to be happiest moments I would have in a year—the first, before Christmas (December 17) and the second, before my birthday (June 17).

What a coincidence. Seems like 17 is my new favorite number.

***

I couldn’t remember when, where, and how I’ve become an underachiever.

Not to boast anything but hey I was only a laude and an optimistic leader in school. So, I could say, I was not just anyone six years ago. But now, as I would look at myself, it seemed like my golden days had gone. Where did I place my self-motivation? I must have lost it somewhere.

Again, for the 40th time, I was staring at the two journals I have—the year that was and the year that will be.

The year that was...

A year of bad health: I was hospitalized for three days because of dengue fever. I had never been hospitalized since summer of Grade 4 when I had appendicitis.

A year of bad cash: And because I was hospitalized in St. Luke’s Medical Center—Taguig, my bank account was swiped before my eyes just like that. I was almost empty-handed, considering that I didn’t have any medical insurance. Just PhilHealth and SSS which I only started paying months before I got bitten by that stupid mosquito—so they were no use. Not to mention, I’m also supporting my brother to college in a such a high-class school, (and of all school, why) Mapua Institute of Technology.

A year of heartache: Jacob, my boyfriend for six years, and I broke up. Though it’s slightly mutual, I still had a heart attack—I mean heartache.

A year of stumbling career: Working in a TV network for almost seven years now, I would slip from one show to another because either I would get tired of doing the same old things or the show would end.

I should turn everything to a year that will be...A-B-C-D-E.

Awesome and adventure-filled.

Bold and fearless.

Challenging yet triumphant.

Dazzling and fabulous.

Extraordinarily great.

That could be so much but yes, this year should be a year of surprising make-overs and turn-arounds. A year of big change—in all aspects.

Weekly, monthly, and yearly goals would be my guide to change, so that I could finally say that “This journal has changed my life.”

And so I pledge:

“I, Elizabeth ’Liz, Beth, Betty, Betchay’ Espejo Cordova, promise to make a significant change on my life this year, or else I would grow an old barren, unloved, and regretful lady.”

“Wait wait wait...it should only be until ‘my life this year.’ That’s it!”

***