Quintessence

May 2014

It's four o'clock in the afternoon and I'm just waking up. This would mark the end of a three-month long unproductivity since my new work starts tomorrow- I just got this job that I really didn't like but would actually pay the bills, which are already overdue. Congratulations are definitely not in order.

Still groggy from the job interview last Friday, I turned to the other side of my bed and saw my full name in the application paper where I've left it- Maxximillion Fuller- and felt disgusted at the sight and thought that this name will now be associated only with papers for mediocre jobs.

If you're 24 years old, I believe this is the age where you're climbing the stairs to success and ready to start a family, with the job that you are passionate about, a bigger salary you only imagined during college, and a girlfriend whom you are engaged to.

I could say that I'm already on that stage, except that I am gay and have... had a boyfriend. I was one of those big shot managers from a retail company who sells fancy yet affordable clothes and accessories; I handled an entire floor of the shipping department and it was, by far, one of the best jobs that kept me busy from thinking about the horrible issues in my personal life. My degree in Nursing didn't really give me an insight how to run this place, but it did develop my innate personality of having genuine concern for the people under my supervision.

With the way I deal with my team, they returned the favor and made me feel like the strongest leader there is, until I got laid off.

There are certain battles you have to fight for even when you know it's not yours to begin with. This year, random employees were being let go to maintain company stability, regardless of the fact that it is exceeding its sales target. Efficient delivery contributed to this increase. So when my boss's boss announced that there were people in my department who belong to the chopping block, I had to speak up and addressed him with a definitive 'no'. That same day I had to clear my desk and leave with my big mouth.

Three months passed and I still couldn't find a decent job. I even sold my beautiful blue Suzuki Swift, and moved from my luxurious condo to a shabby little apartment. My boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, also left me in one of my lowest points. I couldn't really blame him- when we met in college, he was straight and he was a happy-go-lucky guy but with concrete plans in life. I misread the signals and became persistent on making him more than just a friend, which he found amusing. He fell in love with the idea of spending his life with someone whose dreams are bigger than us both, regardless of our gender. So when I hit rock bottom, I never expected him to stay.

I was thankful for the love, though. Sometimes you get hurt so much that you just think about the memories you spent with each other. At times I feel that the relationship has made a toll on my emotional being, but at least I know now what it felt having a witness in your life even just for a short while- from the important up to the mundane things. Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, as they always say.

A cup of Joe, currently the only thing that makes me warm inside literally and figuratively, is just what I needed.

I stood and made myself a cup. I climbed back to bed with my mug, made a few sips, then chugged the whole thing down. This was part of what I have been doing ever since unemployment pledged its loyalty. The rest of the day I spent on my computer playing online games, and eat whatever I could buy from 7-11.

Sometimes I do some cleaning in my tiny apartment just to make myself move. Some days I just sit on my bed and stare at myself infront of the mirror- I became fat that my clothes rejected me amidst my average height, and aged so much I could pretend to be forty years old and get away with it. The only positive thing was my fair skin, but that too is masked with blemishes and some big set of what I call eye-luggage carrying two deep brown eyes, same color as my short hair. I sank so low, I felt like Titanic.