I find myself once again here at OM (overlooking Marikina) of the AdMU school grounds. When I was in college, I often came here to relieve myself of jitters, nerves, anxiety and everything-else-in-between caused by the demands of university life: never-ending papers and presentations, terror professors, surviving a real date, midterms, seeing an F, nursing a broken heart, thesis, orals, and all that. Looking over the distant Marikina, with the quiet cemetery very obvious and very bare, I would often count how many McDonalds signs I could find. Knowing that they were always there, relieved me. Yes, it relieved me.
Funny. I find myself once again here at OM. Yet, it is not college life that led me here, for that life has been over for almost 7 years. Now that I am here again, I wish I had those troubles again. After I graduated, I thought that life would be smooth, that everything would go as planned: get a good-paying job, move up the corporate ladder, save money, travel a little, buy a car, help the family, save money, get married and have kids. And yet, I find myself once again here at OM. And I can’t even begin to think what’s troubling me. I fear that if I think it out loud, or write it down, it would come true, it would be real. And dealing with it would cause much distress that I don’t want to face.
I find myself once again here at OM.
Seven years after college, and I am now 28 years old. Two more years before I reach 30. To people younger than me (especially my officemates), I am ancient. I am at the acceptable marrying age. To people older than me, I am still young, independent, and care-free. I feel that I am neither. At 28, I just feel mostly … trapped.
In my mind, I am still very young. I get freaked out at the thought of being married, of having responsibilities, of having kids, of a lifetime being mature. It seems very tiring. And yet, I also feel old. People whom I’ve known since college, or people my age in the office are getting married, having kids, buying houses and cars.
I know I still want to do things on my own: be independent, buy shoes/bags/clothes/gizmos, as well as travel, without second thoughts or guilt, make decisions without seriously affecting another person’s life, get drunk and have a hangover, have chips and ice cream for breakfast, take up an adventure sport or hobby (like diving or wall climbing).
But. But, I know I have to think about saving and investing money, buying real estate, seriously consider the dangers of childbirth during late 30’s (especially that most of my aunts from my dad’s side all got married late, and as a result, had or are having pre/post natal problems), raising a child, growing old alone, or growing old with one person for the rest of my life…
I don’t want to be mature, and yet, I cannot afford to not act my age. It’s like going through puberty once again. I don’t know if I’m a kid or an adult. I don’t know if I should take myself too seriously or not.
Maybe I’m just in this rut because of my state of mind. Maybe my notions of shallow independence vs. marriage are not as cracked up as I think they are. Maybe I can be 30 (or more), and still be youthful. Maybe I can be mature and still have fun (well, clean fun). Maybe it’s OK to go crazy sometimes and make mistakes when you’re over 30.
Or maybe I’m just plain crazy.
I find myself once again here at OM.
I think I need to go home.
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