Room 428.

Room 428

By John Paul Lazaro

It was a dark and stormy night; the stars that usually lit the night sky were covered by a blanket of gray clouds. It was gonna rain. I took out from my bag a small contraption that normal people would call an umbrella and opened it over my head. The rain began to pour as I walked on the pavement on my way home. Halfway through the 2-kilometer walk, I felt obliged to look to my left. I don’t know why, but I did. Just as I was turning my head, a small white ambulance caught my eye. I figured right then and there that the world was trying to send me a message. I needed to visit my friend.

The moment I got in my house, I punched in the number of the institute in my phone and informed the person on the other end of the line about my visit the next day. They have grown accustomed to my frequent visits. This friend of mine is very special, probably even more special than what people know. That night, I grabbed a quick snack, brushed my teeth, took a cold shower, and called it a day.

The next day, I woke up to the annoying beeping of the alarm clock. 8 A.M. Oh shit, I’m late. I propped my self up the bed and smelled my armpits. Still fresh from last night’s bath, so I slipped into my jeans and shirt and grabbed the car keys. It was a 45-minute drive from my place to the institution. I turned on the radio and played my favorite station. After a couple of blocks, I pulled over to a small fast food joint and ordered cheeseburger and fries to-go. Nothing says quality breakfast like fast food.

After half an hour, I was already near the institution. I circled around the block where the institution was in the hopes of finding a good parking spot near the entrance of the establishment. Lady luck was probably on my side that day because I was able to find a spot just across the institution. I parallel parked in one take, not that I’m bragging.

As I opened the door of the institution, familiar faces greeted me with smiles.  I walked over to the counter and asked the lady in white as to my scheduled visit. In less than a minute, she asked a nurse to escort me to one of the rooms. The hallway was faintly lit and reeked the smell of isopropyl alcohol and cough syrup, an unappealing combination. At the far end of the hallway, there it was.

Room 428.

The nurse opened the cold steel door and let me in.

She was sitting on the bed, her face painted with a smile.

“Hello.” She finally said. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

I grinned. “Sorry about that. I’m trying to visit as much as I could, trust me.”

“I know. I was just joking.” She let out a stifled laugh. “Can you tell me more about your wife again? I really like listening to your stories.”

“Of course. What about her do you want to hear?” I smiled.

We talked for hours and hours. Time flew by quickly. The next thing I knew, the nurse is knocking on the door. Visiting hours is over. I had to leave. The sun was setting and it was getting late. I had to bid farewell to my friend. She smiled and stood up.

“You’re the best friend a woman could ever ask for. Your wife is very lucky to have you.” She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek.

All I could give her was a smile. I turned my back away and walked out the door.

Outside, the nurse escorted me out the establishment. He looked puzzled. I knew he wanted to ask something.

“Sir, if I may ask. You’ve been visiting that patient since she got her. Are you her relative?”

I simple smiled and looked away.

“She’s my wife.”

Frustrations and Insecurities.

Sorry if I'm not perfect. Actually, I'm very far from perfect.

I am far from being the son a parent wants.
I am far from being the brother a child wants.
I am far from being the student a teacher wants.
I am far from being a friend a person wants.
And I am far from being a lover a woman wants.

But I try my best to be, it's just that it's hard for me.

Frustrations and insecurities eat me like a piece of pie. They devour my whole and leave me in a state where I can't seem to know my worth, if I am worth something. I wouldn't bother to expound as to what my insecurities are. As if anybody would care.

As I write this blog entry, tears are pouring down from my eyes. Not because I am weak, but because I am strong enough to cry; to admit to myself that not everything is okay. I write this blog entry to let people know that I, too, have my own frustrations and insecurities. Actually, I'm full of it. People just don't know it.

People see me as the happy fellow; always smiling, laughing, and cracking jokes. But haven't they ever thought that probably, maybe I have a problem?

It's tough being the tough big guy. Nobody would bother to ask you if you're okay. Nobody would sit beside you and check if you're doing good. Nobody.

I will keep this short and brief. I don't wanna piss more people off.

Frustrations. Insecurities. They eat me like a piece of pie.

For Women

Women set their standards too high sometimes, but you would forget your standards once you meet the man for you. We fall in love. We don't walk into love. We don't jump into love. We fall in love. We don't mean to, but we do. You don't really choose who you're gonna fall for, my dear. It's as if Cupid would fire his arrow to the heavens and god-knows who he's gonna hit.

Romantic movies and stories are responsible for women's high standards. They are responsible for making women wait for their "prince charmings" who might not exist. Don't wait for your prince charming dear. Wait for the man who would make you his princess, and eventually his queen.

Don't expect to fall in love with the man that meets your standard because you'd probably end up disappointed. There's no perfect man, nor is there a perfect woman; but rather, wait for the man who would see you as a perfect woman and you will see him as a perfect man, no matter how imperfect you both are; because when in love, you won't see each other's imperfections, you'd only see each other's beauty.

You would actually forget your own standards the moment you meet the man who would make you feel special every single day of your life.

Skin-deep beauty would only bring you so far. Character, personality, and attitude, on the other hand, would last a lifetime.

You'd meet your gentleman one day, my dear; maybe tomorrow, or the next day, or god-knows, maybe you've already met him. Do not forget darling, we shape our own destiny.

Jealousy

Jealousy [jel-uh-see] noun - mental uneasiness from suspicion of fear or rivalry, unfaithfulness, etc., as in love or aims.

Perhaps I need not define what jealousy means. Probably most of you know what it is. Probably most of you have been jealous before. Maybe jealous of a person of a higher economical stature, jealous of a someone who has better things than you, jealous of someone who owns that red sports car you've always wanted, or probably jealous of someone who you think has a crush on the woman you love.

Nonetheless, all of us have probably felt jealous about something or someone before.

I hear people say "I have no right to be jealous" all the time. I strongly disagree most of the times. For me, as long as you love someone, you have the right to be jealous even if you're just a friend.

Yes, I know. You're probably thinking that I'm giving bad advice, but trust me, a little jealousy is necessary.

Just imagine if a husband never gets jealous of his wife. Would you think the wife would remain faithful or would not engage in an affair when she knows that her husband won't get jealous? I don't think so.

My mother had always been the jealous type. And that's one of the many traits that I have inherited from her.

Yes, I get jealous easily. I even get jealous when a close friend of mine makes a new friend. I sort of don't like the idea of losing someone's attention.

But that was well beyond the past.. I hope.

Jealousy is a bitch. It makes people think stuff; do stuff.

Jealousy is a bitch. It weakens relationships, eventually destroying it.

Jealousy is a bitch, and I am infected.