On cutting the strings that bind us

I've gotta say, I love December here in Puerto Rico. The temperature drops to such a nice level that it feels comfortable. I always know that Christmas is officially afoot when a nice breeze starts blowing through my window, the one next to me. Or well, y'know, when stores and malls put out insane sales that turn people into savage animals almost. And for those that think it only happens on our fair island, fear not, it happens in the US too (and at times, is far worse). Seriously, I'm going to find the bastard that came up with the concept of "After Thanksgiving Sale" and punch them in the groin. If the person is male. If the person is female, then I'll punch their breasts.

Very recently, a girl that I spent a summer with, when I was about four or five, messaged me on MySpace, asking if she remembered who she was. She was my grandmother's neighbor, in the barrio of Minillas in San Germán, and some time later, she would move to Sabana Grande. She's some years older than me, I think by about four. That summer, we spent every day playing and doing random things. It was really fun and it made that summer much more exciting than it might've been. Our friendship could've gone a couple of different ways from there. We might've kept hanging out if my father had decided for sure that we were going to stay in San Germán. I remember that my parents even took me to Colegio San José to enroll me in kindergarten. If my family was, instead, returning to Germany (because my father was still in the Army), or if we were to move to Conneticut with my father's youngest brother, then we would've just kept writing to each other. As it turns out, we ended up in Conneticut, mainly because my father left the Army, so my friend and I became pen pals.

After awhile, though, we finally stopped writing, since we were each going in our separate ways. Though I'd think about her from time to time, I figured she might've forgotten all about me. Now, here's were things go a little "wait, wow, really?" Last year, when I was but a Sagrado freshman, slightly confused but not entirely lost (and I thank high school for that), among the many people I met, one of them goes by the name Paco. I suppose the relationship the two of us have are that of brother-sister, kind of. Anyway, the point was, I heard him talking about his girlfriend, who lives in Arizona, a couple of times, but I didn't pay much attention (perhaps because I was trying to sleep in between classes). Later, last Christmas, we had a quickie conversation over the phone, and he says that he's in Sabana Grande, spending time with his girlfriend and her family, who lives there. Though I was curious, I still didn't ask.

Then, I noticed on his MySpace that his #1 was a girl named Zeliann. The name hit me, because that was the name of my friend from years gone by. I had wanted to ask a bit more about her to Paco, but I kept putting it off because I felt that I might be wrong. Then, finally, a week ago, she messages me. And it turns out that I was right; this was the same girl I'd met so many years ago, who was dating someone we both met in completely different ways. I guess you can say I was more than a little surprised. I mean, this is one of those wild coincidences that almost never happen, and yet serve to make the world fill just a little smaller than it might be.

I think that it's a little ironic, though. Since I moved to Puerto Rico when I was ten, I'd done my best to cut the ties of my past. I'd only recently started thinking about it more when I played Final Fantasy XII, and learned about the character Balthier. Balthier is the sort of character that appears to be calm, cool and collected almost all the time, dashing and charming and not the type to permit others to tell him what to do or where to go. Yet, deeper down, he shows remorse for the path he's taken, and an intense desire to run from the path, to cut those strings for good, and instead, his past comes running after him, and is clearly the faster one. I think that's what's happening to me now.

In fact, now that I think about it, why am I trying to cut my past out? I can't even remember the reason. Maybe I just hated the person I used to be, and just wanted to get away from everything that had become attached to my memory of the person. If that's the case, though, then I'm always going to look for ways to severe ties, because I'm not particularly fond of who I am now. Hence, the entire premise and background of this blog, in title, sub-title and what my lil' sidebar now says. I'm trying to fix myself, but at the same time, not really. I simply just put out my usual self on, the one that's aloof and independent and rebellious and absent-minded, and I go about my day to day life. Yet, if and when the opportunity presents itself again, and this time when I'm more mature to handle it, I know that I'd try to cut my past out again, and this time for good.

But maybe, just maybe, I feel this way because I've already learned that home really is where the heart is, and doesn't need to be tied to a specific place or events. If I can say with conviction that my heart is content, wherever it is that I am and whatever I happen to be doing, then I'm home. I think, also, that I'd like to find someone to call home, even if I'm greatly cynical towards that concept at the moment (since I tried and failed miserably at that). Still, maybe I just need to keep on going forward in life, not looking back at the past that will always tie me with a string, until I find the solution that works best for me.

I like the December breeze here a lot, almost as much as the beaches here. Maybe that's home for me. I also plan on seeing Zeliann when she's visiting family in Sabana Grande. We sure have grown up.

On an unrelated side note, I'm still tinkering with my layout. In other words, I need to put in the footer, and make the text a little bigger for the visually impaired. :) I made a more comprehensive about me page.