TUESDAY:

It ended in defeat for me. A black eye, a broken and bleeding nose, and bruises on my face that, as of this writing, still haven't healed. My hands also hurt. It hurts when I carry things with my left hand. I can't wear glasses, and it also hurts when I read. I got grounded for a handful of days, because, well, Dad didn't like me fighting with my kid brother.

By now, people know about it, and I've broken my silence regarding the matter. I figured that I ought to keep quiet because the policy is never to let other people in on the 'dirty laundry' about the family. In this instance, I didn't want to keep quiet. I felt for too long I had been keeping mum about how my brother causes conflict and friction at home, and how I always just accede and let him have his way to keeping the peace.

Well, the peace ended, if only for a brief two minutes of much punching.


WEDNESDAY:

Forgiveness is often easy for me, forgetting less so.

What really sucked was how nobody really believed me when I said I forgave my brother. Not my brother, not Dad. Hell, I even got chastised about how "I was making it worse" and all that, but what the hell. He was ranting about how I wasn't nice and how I ought to change. I say, that frankly, I'm right because what I did was something Dad himself wouldn't be able to do.

At least the doctors say that it's not too serious.


THURSDAY:

Slow.

Although Roel suddenly joined Days. I'm now in a frantic pursuit to make his batch a memorable one, as I'm de facto sponsor.

Admittedly, I'm delighted at the news. Finally. I won't be alone here in this household as being a Dayzer. The tricky thing was that I didn't think he'd jump the issue on me THIS SOON.

I'm still skeptical whether or not this is brought by a genuine interest in becoming a better Christian, or if it's because he's guilty about the fight and he's just trying to make amends. Because nobody just 'jumps the gun' with Days. It's too big a deal just to take so lightly.


FRIDAY:

I felt so alone. I cut class and decided to go to the mall. I shopped for a few gifts for classmates, and I watched "The Nativity Story". Lame movie, but it had its moments.

It somehow made me realize that yeah, I do someday want to fall in love, settle down, have a family, and be happy that way. In essence, that's the simplest and happiest life goal that people ever could dream for themselves back then, and it showed there. A simple and happy family life was what they wanted; then God sends his angel and poof! No more simple.

I guess that now that I'm in law school, I realized how simple my dreams really were. I'm part of a sad generation of youth, who were raised by hard-working middle class parents who sent their children (like me) to expensive, good schools and left them with a good education. Then, it's my generation that realizes there's more to life than 'perpetuating the family business'. Like how my Ateneo friend Leloy, a doctor's son, wants to just be a teacher. Or how my friend May, daughter of a lawyer, doesn't dream of more than just working as a manager for a hotel.

Or how I'm thinking of leaving law school, and I've no real place to turn to after.


SATURDAY:

It was a fun, busy kind of way. I'm still tired.

No, I still am too demoralized to be back on the school saddle. I'm losing my fire. I'm losing the purpose of why I'm still here, of why I keep trying to convince myself that I'm happy where I am when I curse every challenge. Especially as this cursing is what I do instead of welcoming these trials and travails like I used to, when I was doing work I really loved.

I read a blog entry today. I realized that sometimes, I let my daydreamt image of what would make myself happy lead me to be carried away. That the way things are, often, aren't as happy or as nice as I think they can be going, no matter how bare I've peeled and pared down those paradigms I've got.

I'm hurting physically and emotionally, and that mefanamic acid pill I've got doesn't look like it'll help much.


SUNDAY:

The day is still young, but already, I found myself strewn on my bed, like two years ago on that fateful night that changed everything, muttering to whoever's listening:

"Ayoko na, ayoko na, ayoko na..."

I'm half-wishing I won't be as lucky as before. I feel the exact opposite of what I really am, as I'm not alone, I'm not unloved, and I'm looked out for by people who matter to me.

I don't know why, and I'm trying to get through this, but I don't know how to either.