Conclusions

I drank my last cup of coffee
I have shown you each trend
A few more words and then
It is the end, it is the end.

Tomorrow is my last chance. I will tell you when we meet.

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Case 13: Motivation

When you asked me what was my secret for getting high grades, my answer was this: money, or the lack of it. I do not exactly get paid every time I receive good marks, but I needed to maintain my position in the top to be able to retain my scholarship (since kindergarten). Basically, the only way I could study is to study well.
And because of that, what eventually drove me to excel was this: competition. Ranking first was not only a necessity, it became an obsession. Thus, getting high scores is no longer the issue, but getting the highest scores is. A good rival is a great friend, and vice versa.
As a result of that, what pushes me these days is this: fear. Fear of failure, that is. Nothing is worth doing unless it is something to be worried about. And this mode of thinking gives me problems now. Because, unknowingly, I have lost that fear. And I do not know whether or not I should panic.
Perhaps I have found it pointless to prove myself, because people prefer to stick to their own judgments. And maybe it is useless to improve myself, because people have predetermined my limitations. And that is the end of it. I guess desperation, obsession, and fear are never effective motivations.
Which is a pity, since our lives are pretty much defined by our motivations.
When you heard my answer you probably realized that I would rather have your secret for getting low grades: freedom.

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Case 12: "I Love You"

Here are some instances when I hate being told "I love you":
I hate it when you say it just to make me feel guilty.
I hate it when you expect me to be grateful even though I did not ask for it.
I hate it when you are waiting for me to say it back.
I hate it when it makes me speechless.
I hate it when it turns my ears red, renders my arms immobile, and makes my knees rubbery.
I hate it when you say it over the phone.
I hate it when you print it in the school paper.
I hate it when you say it, then pretend you did not say anything.
I hate it when I have to pretend I did not hear anything.
I hate it when you say it, then laugh.
I hate it when you say it, then leave.
I hate it when it makes me wonder whether it was true or not.
I hate it when it makes me do stupid things, like hope it was true.
Those three little words can put someone in a state of bliss, or bring him into misery. I hate it when it does both.
But the time I hate the most is when you say it so easily.

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Case 11: Silent Treatment

When we were kids, you always find ways to make my life hell. It was a time of constant rivalry and fighting, and I hated you more and more as the days passed by. During the younger years, I retaliated by throwing things at you (coins, stones, carpentry tools), which surely got me punished afterwards. And so I tried to deal with you in a different way, which was a bit safer for the both of us. I tried silent treatment--three types of it.
First, I tried avoidance. I merely maintained a distance of five meters away from you. I do not enter a room you are in or I leave a room as you enter it. But then, you thought it was a game so you followed me everywhere I went. You celebrated every time you found me while I am hiding from you. That only irritated me more.
Then, I tried denial. I just ignore your existence. I cannot see, hear, touch and smell, and never tasted you. But then, you hardly even noticed that I am ignoring you. And it was utterly a complete waste of mind energy to erase your existence when you did not even care. That only infuriated me more.
Lastly, I tried aloofness. I simply treated you as a stranger, or probably someone I meet in the streets. And, at last, this one worked. You hated it and hated me because of it and that spelled victory for me. But then, I felt weird about it. Something had changed inside me. That had left me wondering.
Now, I use the silent treatment whenever I have a conflict with someone, and I am almost always the first one to give up and try to reconcile. Loneliness often gets in the way of pride. Perhaps because I do not have the luxury for things to end up in another case similar to ours.

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Flashback

It was during one of those annual floods and I was riding on a make-shift boat (an aluminum wash basin on a lifesaver). It was floating in front of our make-shift house (a small cube of plywood and tin). I sat there lazily, surrounded by brown water and enjoying being carried away by the current.
I could not see anyone near. The other kids were swimming in the streets, where the water was much deeper. I could hear the splashes and their laughters which made me wish that I knew how to swim. My mother was probably cooking breakfast at my aunt's house. I was starting to get bored.
I decided to return inside. I paddled towards the door using my hands. It was quite difficult because I was going against the flow. I reached for the post and held on it to stop moving. However, the boat did not stop. Before I knew it, I fell into the water and remembered looking at the cloud of sand that my plunge had created before losing consciousness.
I woke up shivering and vomitting at the thought of ingesting dirty water. I felt sick and ashamed. My parents and cousins would be laughing at me for that stupid error I committed. I explained to them I just really wanted to stop.
That incident will not be talked about for years, and up to now, I still do not know who picked me out the water. Whoever you are, thank you for giving me a second chance.

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