Recap part 1 / Jan-Jun

12:00:00 AM

It's time.
(image from the internet)
I started 2012 by cleaning my room and writing like a mad woman. At the time, I was still recovering from a heartbreak, and I had a rocky start. There were some things I had to unlearn, others I had to re-learn, and of course, a lot to still learn. I vowed to make the year better than the last in all aspects of my life. I promised to travel more, to read more, to go out more - basically, to live more. I made the decision that I was going to be happy, and to be happy, I knew that I had to be open to everything.

But the decision wasn't easy. To be honest, I started by running away - literally. I signed up for the Condura Skyway Marathon, and I ran without any form of preparation. I actually didn't even sleep the night before. But I ran, motivated by a desperate need to leave everything behind me. A desperate need to be free from the pain of my heartbreak. And in running away from one thing, I ran into another. I ran into a fresh start. Into a new lease on life.

I traveled. I went to Batangas twice - first in Pico de Loro Beach and Country Club, and then in Club Punta Fuego. Both were actually for work, but I didn't let that stop me from having fun. With the little free time I had, I relived my young and carefree days. I swam to my heart's content, occasionally sprinting as if to beat the non-existent competition. I let the water embrace me completely, and I could almost literally feel all the hurt melt away to become sea foam.

Dumaguete was definitely the highlight (I wrote a lot about that trip!) of the first half of my year. It was the ultimate getaway, the great escape. I was fed up with the daily grind, and I just had to get as far away from everything as possible. I had to be alone. I had to jump, and I did. I had to be one with nature, and perhaps one with God, as well. I felt like a new person when I got back from that trip. I felt stronger, but more importantly, I felt free. Free from regret. From guilt. From emotional baggage. Travel healed me.

Things were looking up for me; my life was back on track. I signed up for gym in an attempt to get healthier. I devoured one book after the other. I watched movies and television series like there's no tomorrow. I dated someone (briefly). I went out with friends often. I shopped (mostly in the ukay-ukay, of course). I was able to do all those things because again, travel healed me. But what completed my journey of rebuilding were two other things.

First was music. This was no surprise - music has always been there for me. At my worst, it gave me comfort. I was almost always plugged into my iPod for hours on end, listening to jazz, rock and roll, metal, and even classical. I occasionally experimented with new genres. I sang at my friend Joy's wedding. I collaborated with my friend Gershwin to write, compose, and record original songs. We even talked about the possibility of re-starting a band.

And the second pillar of my regrouping process was writing. I re-vamped my blog and gave it purpose. I was no longer writing just because it was cathartic. It was no longer just a hobby, or a means to vent. I had a goal - I wanted to share my experiences in the hope that it could touch lives. I'm not going to change or save the world, but that doesn't mean I can't contribute to the cause in my own way. 


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Hello, reader! Thank you for wasting your time reading my blog. I do hope you enjoyed whatever you stumbled upon. :)