Because I like structure, I enjoy the idea of putting closure to things in the form of a culminating event like a party or a dinner. Sometimes though, the end of a stage in my life signals a beginning for someone else – just like the turnover of duties in an organization. That is always a messy affair for me, emotionally speaking.
This particular student organization I will be talking about, I’ve been part of it for three years. I served as an officer for two of those years, and the bulk of what I had to do was to make sure the organization’s finances were relatively healthy, so that others could do what we as a special interest organization were established to do. Funnily enough, I am not very close to the other members of the organization. I did my job to the best of my ability – and given the circumstances I don’t think I performed that badly – but I just couldn’t connect with the thirty-or-so other members. It’s not because they are unlikeable people. I’ve always thought the problem was with me.
Yesterday, we went to a pool venue in Marikina for the induction of our new members and officers. That meant, too, that my time as an officer and a member of the organization had officially come to an end. The place we were at had a large, aquamarine pool with a covered lanai on one side and a swing bordered by trees on the other. As I sat on the swing alone, watching everyone else on the lanai chatting while waiting for the program to start and looking very much like a light-hearted movie of which I was not part, I realized I am always on the other side of the pool. I am always on the other side of happiness, and what is worse is that I put myself there.
The realization that you’re stuck in a place where you don’t want to be and the knowledge that you can’t get yourself out of there very easily is one of the worst feelings in the world, I’ve always thought.
Photo (c) stockpic.