I Am The Walrus

This is for my dear, dear friend who texted me today and asked me what she should do when she’s at the bottom of the barrel.

Of course, this is my blog, so I have to insert myself into the discussion. Otherwise, read someone else’s blog (belat!).

So. I lost my cellphone. It’s not just any cellphone, it’s a funky Nokia 6630 which I’ve jazzed up to hava a Scrubs wallpaper and a Scrubs ringtone. It’s an important phone because it’s a company issued phone which I’ve waited for four years.

I was shaken up for a total of an hour and then I just let it go. I didn’t cry. And that’s when I realized a shocking, disturbing truth in my life right now. I don’t cry anymore. In fact, I haven’t cried in about a year. Sure, I would tear up once in a while, but I can literally count my teardrops. Gone are the days when I would cry myself to sleep because I hated my job or my boyfriend or my parents. They’re all gone.

Not that I don’t have anything to cry about. I still get into situations at work, at home, and with my friends where I should cry, out of pain or sorrow or happiness, but no tears. Not for a year.

Crying is important. It means you still give a damn. It means the youth in you is bothered and restless. It means you’re still passionate. It means you’re still struggling.

The night after I lost my phone, I sat up in my room until 2am and peppered my brain with all the reasons why I should cry. Lost my cellphone, meager salary, spats with my parents over Cojie (they spoil him), not to mention the gripping sadness that just wraps us single girls at least once a month. (It’s not PMS). I did not tear up. I fell asleep.

When my friend asked me what she should do, I just told her that sometimes not doing anything and letting things fall into place will just help things get better. But I forgot to tell her one thing: don’t lose your spirit in the process. Don’t lose your soul, the way I probably have lost mine.