I can't stand it anymore. I want to break out! And you only feel like breaking out if you feel trapped in the first place.
I can't believe this but I think I hate what I used to love. I can't believe I just said that. I think I really do hate it! I hate it so much right now I'm not even thinking of taking this back tomorrow when my nerves cool down
I don't think I can handle the pressure any more! I'm going crazy over all these hovering thoughts on whether I am making the right choices or not. I even go as far as imagining how my choices will affect my life 5 years down the road! Quarter life crisis at its finest!
I am hardworking and determined, even a perfectionist sometimes. I am not bragging, I'm just sure of myself regarding those traits. BUT being hardworking and determined does not mean I am a workaholic person. I love doing my best but that does not equal loving work. I do not like to look for work. I just make sure I do the best with the work assigned to me. There is a difference and a very big one if I may add.
I want work-life balance. As much as I want to be the best employee (since I have this thing about being the best I can be at everything), I also want to be the best sister, daughter, girlfriend and friend I can be. Right now, I am pouring all my efforts on the work part... and not by choice. I don't want to come off as whiny or lazy but work just eats up more time than I am willing to allot. I don't want to reject responsibility but I don't know how I can achieve "balance" without doing so. I repeat, I'm not lazy to do the work nor am I not capable of delivering. I just want time and energy and more time.
Whenever I hear songs, particularly cheesy love songs, I instantly create an MTV in my head - complete with slow motion, black and white and blank stares... actually, just like one of those tacky Windows Movie Maker auto movies! Sometimes I get very emotional since my instant MTVs can be a little too dramatic, almost like those tribute videos you play during funerals. More often though I become extra cheesy, just like last night when the song "I Knew I Loved You" by Savage Garden played on my iPod during the drive home. I matched almost every word of the song with a specific moment with Jose. See, it's sounding cheesy already! Anyway, let's just go to straight to the song and my matching MTV, okay?
Let me take you through the song with matching photos. Note that since I imagined it as a tacky karaoke-worthy MTV, I shall make tacky visuals for this post! Para buo ang experience! :P
It' not that I love my family more or I love my boyfriend better. I just love them differently. And since the love is different, there isn't reason to compare since this isn't an apples to apples thing. It's just sad that this is a continuous battle both external and [more] internal.
If you base my love on the extent of contact and communication, then boyfriend will win hands down. But I don't measure love this way. When faced with a life and death situation, I will, without a doubt, catch a bullet for any of my family members. When I need to give up food for my siblings to eat, I will willingly starve. When I need to miss out on my favorite show to help someone out, I will suffer in silence (Oh Lord, you know how I love my TV!) In short, I may not be with them as often, but I will be there when it matters.
But, being me, I try to understand why I choose to spend more time with the boyfriend than with my family. And as I put this unnecessary stress of thinking on myself, I realised that the reason I choose to be with the boyfriend more often is because the love we have is a love I chose. I wasn't born to love him. I found him on my own and decided to love him. The love we have requires more work so I have to invest more of myself in it. I had the advantage of being born to my family and spending every waking moment with them for the past 16 years so the work on our love kickstarted even before I was aware any work was happening.
I'm not sure if I'm just rationalising all this time I'm spending with the boyfriend so I won't feel guilty over less family time but whether it's true or not, my sentiments remain the same. Love does take work... and the love I chose just takes a lot more of it.