Me, the eternal sponge

Two of my close friends came by my office to see me yesterday, One was an old buddy, someone from high school; the other, an ex-colleague. As usual, as what most of my friends do - both were unloading their life stories, miserable or happy, unto me like I was some kind of sponge, or some garbage dump. Of course, I love it like that. They’re my friends, and I enjoy listening to what they were saying. Not only do I offer the ears they need, but I also can get lessons from their stories.

My old buddy is totally broke, but I’m glad she still has the will to carry on. She’s aiming to work in a first-world country to help her family, who is counting on her for almost everything. Theirs is the typical rags-to-riches-back-to-rags story. But my friend has shown courage and hope, something I could have not expected from her. She was the bratty girl friend I had in high school, speeding her motorbike with me at the back while I try to control my tears. We went to college together, but later she has given up engineering as aside from it being difficult, she thought her dad of good political connections could secure her a job with only a two-year course. She worked for a while, and started seeing a high school lad, whom she thought was the sweetest person in the world. Both work and relationship didn’t work as planned, apparently. Having just ended an 8-year relationship with a guy five years her junior, focusing on improving yourself and the situation of the people you love could be the sweetest revenge. And I applaud her. I believe she can surpass all these and someday lead a mishap-free, happy life that everyone deserves. Gambatte, Adelyn-chan!

My other friend, whom I thought got married for the wrong reasons, dropped by to give me her long-due Christmas gift she was telling me about. It turned out she gave me something I have been wanting to buy myself for like since history. And so, we started asking about each others’ lives. And, yappari, she was still having petty problems with her husband. The hubby, having had an earlier relationship that bore a lovechild, is trying to mesh his past with the present. I mean, this is where it gets tricky. Hubby wants the kiddo to spend some “quality” time with madrasta; madrasta/my friend, knowing the biological mom is still alive and thought that seeing another woman “playing mum” with her daughter is rather distasteful, kept her distance. I can’t blame both parties. And since I was there to supposedly just listen, I only blurted out a very important, short advice – “communicate with your husband everyday”. I have proven this to be a very effective method to stay with each other. In the real world, I and my husband only talk on the phone or chat while at our own work areas, and on weekends. I get home from work early; he goes home late. And when he’s about to get home, I’m already too tired to talk to him that even sometimes he’ll just see me already comfy in bed with our son. That creates the problem here. Because I would miss him, and when it’s weekend (when we wakes up between 11am-1pm), I would nag him, shout at him, in short – I hate him. But I really don’t. I just hate the idea that we didn’t get to spend time to talk, and now he’s wasting half of the day sleeping. And so, as my friend admitted, she was also being harsh, and thought she could’ve used the best words so that the hubby don’t get her wrong the next time. You don’t call her an editor for nothing! But I’m glad she has reflected on her actions, as well.

My crowd is already maturing, indeed. And I’m really glad.