All I Need is One in a Million

I was uploading lots (and I mean lots) of photos of LB Times staff in my Multiply. All I could think of suddenly is all sunny and happy. Sir Harold might be right, after all. That after those months of toil and hard work, of swelling up of pimples and eyebags, of failing grades and excessive absences in all other subjects, we could only benefit and gain something greater from it. We certainly reaped what we sowed. Yes indeed, I hated and cursed a lot, but I loved and cherished more. The rage I kept and held on to everyday would not beat the true friends I made. That’s the best part of it all, actually. Of course I was able to practise what my instructors and professors preached all those years and learn more than I thought I could, but that’s just the best part of it all.

Now, we’ve churned out something that I know we are all proud of. Many thanks to our advisers who always believed that we could do better.

As much as I wanted to talk about all of the many experiences I had with LB Times, and the many people I built a connection with, I would like to stick to my real purpose of writing this entry (which obviously is not those mentioned above).

Above all, I am proud of my sweetie, for such a job well-done; and I am proud of myself too, because I know, somehow, I helped him. I have always believed in him and encouraged him.

Funny, how my friends (and other people, though not to me) used to say that I should not be with someone smarter than I am; and knowing the jealous person that I was, I thought so too. But then, that exactly was what happened. I fell with someone who undeniably has the smarts.

Contrary to what people think, his being clever has only made our relationship more exciting. I learn so many things from him – things I had never even given thought about. He shares so much with me that I know have made me a much more grown person. He always keeps me amazed and interested. So whoever says that intellectual men are boring, well, not for me.

Never in our relationship did we allow competition to come between. When people say how good he is at something that I try to do also, I feel proud rather than envious. I never felt jealousy and insecurity, not a tinge. He, too, never ever made me feel so little. I never felt so stupid with him. He makes me see my abilities and makes me see that there are also things that I could do better than he could (like shopping and dressing up, kidding, haha).

Some may even wonder why I keep on writing when he, in fact, is the one who’s a pro on this. It’s because he, too, inspires me and encourages me. It’s because out of the many people who can have an access to this, I know he will be the only one left reading this :)

Rerouting? Not entirely.

Today is my second day in IIRR as an intern, and I am already flooded with stack of papers to copy-edit. I am happy though. It feels great to be in someplace where people are actually familiar with what we are and what we do, as DevCom. It may not be the fanciest place to be, but I am having a blast, surely. I am constantly wedged to unfamiliar documents in my desk making my head aches and my eyes sore. But, at the end of the day, I still feel fulfilled than weary.

In no doubt, I have crafted a heart for DevCom. Its principles and values, I have learned by rote. Despite the fact that not many people recognize us, I am full of pride, knowing our influence and selfless intent.

But then, till now, I am still unsure whether this is the career for me. Sometimes, I still feel that there are other lines of work that I can be good at. I am going to discover that. I know I am still young to turn up other things that may allow me to pull off other forms of success and pleasure. But, by taking other routes, I will always bear in my heart everything DevCom has taught me. And I know, after everything, I will be led back to where I started, to where I have grown a healthy heart.