Just a minor setback in my quest for world domination

One of my work benefits is a $1,500.00 reimbursable medical spending plan that I don’t really take advantage of. I don’t really get sick, except for the occasional cough and cold, and a yearly fever. The only major expense I’ve had so far was getting prescription eyeglasses that my boss insists on calling stylish glasses. He thinks I don’t really need glasses because I don’t wear them at work (I’m near-sighted so I just put them on when I’m outside) and the fact that they’re from D&G doesn’t really help me convince him otherwise.

I decided that I should probably go get a check-up. I didn’t want to get a physical yet because it’s only April and December is physical exam month, didn’t you know that? So I figured I should go see a gynecologist to get a prescription for birth control. Something was telling me that now is a good time to get myself back on it because oh, I don’t know, I’m coming home in four months? And I will be spending three weeks with my fiancé? And I’m going to be all over him? Oooh…I’m getting all hot just thinking about it.

Ahem, so anyway, I went to see my gynecologist, got a Pap and was asked to return after six weeks. Allow me to share my insights to those who have never gotten a Pap before. You’re going to be asked to drop your pants and your undies, get on the examination table, put your feet in the stirrups and open wide. Then the doctor will insert this giant q-tip in you and swab you. Done.

My mom always told me that I should put on nice undies when I visit my gynecologist. You know, nothing too racy, too lacy or too kinky. No granny panties and no bacons (that’s what you call the elastic when it’s not, uh, elastic anymore and it starts to look like fried bacon). But it just dawned on me that the doctor wouldn’t even get a chance to see your panties so why bother?

I come back 10 weeks after and my doctor tells me that she found a cyst in my right ovary.

My initial reaction was huh? Can you say that again?

My second reaction was huh? Can you speak a little louder because I can’t really hear you with my hands over my ears while I'm running around in circles.

My third reaction was @_@. I think I was like that for a solid ten minutes before I started to foam at the mouth. I vaguely recall my doctor saying that the lovable cyst only measures three centimeters and is no cause for alarm.

Yet.

Great.

So now I have to worry about the possibility of cancer. Which leads me to the possibility of dying. Which leads me to crying and worrying about all the things that I want to do but will now never get a chance to. Which then leads me to worry about my kids.

Now I’m not usually so emotional but I was still a little raw from having just reread Message in a Bottle and Dear John by Nicholas Sparks. I hate that he knows how to make me cry. Why does the man have something against fairy tale endings?

I know I was overreacting but I was in shock and I was alone. I think you would’ve been that way too if your beb wasn’t there to give you a hug. Then you have to be strong and try not to show your family that you’re scared, because you don’t want your kids to think that their mom is really sick.

I didn’t want my parents to know because I didn’t want them to worry about me. I already told you that I’m the head of the family here, and I don’t want them to feel bad that they’re not physically here to support me. It’s not their fault that they’re back home. It’s just how it is. I know that they’re praying for me. Praying that the cyst won’t grow and turn out to be cancerous.

I try not to think about it too much because it won’t do me any good. I guess I should be thankful that it’s been so busy at work for the past few weeks that I barely have time to think about it. I go about each day as I normally would, distracting myself with chores and just devoting my time to my son (my daughter is back home).

Sometimes I wish I had never gone to the doctor.

Now I believe that ignorance is bliss.

But then I think it’s good that I found out as early as I did so the doctor can monitor and treat it right away if needed.

You know what I want so bad right now?

I want my beb to be here.

I want him to take care of me like he always did when I was still back home.

I want the four of us to be together.

Is that too much to ask?

I still believe in happily ever afters

I have been in a relationship for, I don’t know, maybe six and a half years? I lost count after 60- something months. It was such a brilliant idea to count by months until I realized how hard it was to keep track of the number of months we’ve been together.

We have been apart for two years, eight months and six days. He’s back home and I’m here in Jersey. Yes, LDR.

So how is it? Being in a long distance relationship?

It was hard at first. I was always crying. I felt so alone. God, you don’t know how many times I called him because I needed to hear his voice only to end up getting in a huge argument with him. But I guess I’ve adjusted to him not being a part of my life here. We usually talk twice a month. You read that right, a month, not a week. We’ve only chatted four times and emailed about, maybe 15 times? And yes, we’re still together.

How do you know that he’s not cheating on you?

I don’t. And honestly, I don’t really see the point in driving myself nuts thinking about what he might be doing while I’m 8,000 miles away. It just causes stress. It’s going to eat me up. I believe what he says. Unless anyone can prove otherwise, I’m giving my trust to my man.

Wow, you’re one of the lucky ones. Most people I know would’ve broken up by now.

Thanks. I try to make it work.

That’s what I always say to people who ask me about being in a long distance relationship.

But now I’m just so tired of it.

So here it is.

The truth.

Our story is pretty much an open book anyway. Those who matter know every twist and turn of our story.

The way I see it, things haven’t been going well.

We rarely speak, sometimes going a month without any communication. It’s not because I don’t want to talk to him. It’s more of me being too busy with work and home. You all know I have to care for my son but I also have to be the parent for my two sisters and my brother. So I start my day at 4:45 and end it at 11:00 if I’m lucky. I’m on the phone for most of the day and the last thing I want to do when I get home is spend $4.50 for a 40-minute phone call. And when I do make time to call, we don’t have anything to talk about because most of the time, I’m zoning out. Like, I don’t even know the people he’s talking about. It’s like he has his own thing going on and I have my own life.

I’m also very irritable when I’m on the phone with him. How many times does he have to say, “Yun laaang...” and “Ano na?” Argh!

I have been asking him forever to write me a letter and send me pictures and three years later, he still hasn’t done it.

Now tell me, how hard it is to write a letter? Or mail a card? Or shoot an email? Or even post a comment on a profile? Even my eight-year old can do it!

One day it just hit me.

Do I even love him anymore?

I don’t miss him, I don’t think of him, I don’t even care if I speak to him or not. I must be going crazy. Here’s this guy who cares for my children and had asked me to marry him (Did I tell you about the so-called proposal? Remind me to tell you sometime.) and I’m just throwing it away! I’m not getting any younger; most of my friends have settled down; I’m probably going to be a single mom for life!

So I went and told him what I was thinking: I honestly don’t see the point in continuing this relationship. I’m just not happy. I’m not sure if I still love you.

He wouldn’t give up.

He wouldn’t let me go.

So we decided to spend a week together and see if the magic will come back. We went to Hong Kong, just the two of us, and tried to get to know each other again. I remember feeling so excited and nervous at the same time that I felt like throwing up.

While I was on the 16-hour flight, I was thinking of how I should react when I see him. Should I run to him in slow motion like they do in the movies? Should I stare at him, unable to speak, while tears of joy are streaming down my face? I was so excited!

When I got to the airport I couldn’t find him and had to use a pay phone to call him and let him know where I was. And when I finally did see him, I was just…normal. Like I-just-saw-you-yesterday normal. Which I really think was weird specially since he was so happy to see me. I can tell that he really missed me. He kept saying, “Three years! Three years!” And I didn’t want to just stand there while he was hugging me so I hugged him back and pasted a smile on my face. But all the while I was thinking, who is this guy?

The entire week I was trying so hard to bring it back. To pretend everything was the same. But it just didn’t work. He’s just not the same person I left three years ago. He even looks different. I don’t want to admit it but it’s like he’s more of a friend and not like the man I will be sharing the rest of my life with.

When it was time for us to go home, I felt a little sad to see him go. And that’s when I realized that maybe I had just gotten so used to being by myself that it’s going to take more than a week for me to adjust to being with him again. After all, it’s been three years. Sounds sensible right?

Or not.

Maybe I just don’t want to accept the truth that we had simply grown apart. Just another couple that further substantiates the claim that LDRs never work.

I think I’m having a hard time dealing with it because there’s no one to blame for it. No other woman who took my place, no lover who swept me off my feet. Just Anne. Just Girrard. I don’t think either of us even realized that we were drifting towards this.

But when I think of really throwing in the towel, of saying the words out loud, of actually ending it, I feel pain. Like my heart feels cold and I feel like throwing up.

I guess a part of me is still hoping that things will work out and that this is just a phase that we’re going through. I’m hoping that somehow, this will make our relationship stronger. And that it will make us work a little harder to keep things going.

I need to be around people I’ve known all my life.

I need to slow down.

I need to be home.