Let me begin this reflection paper with a typical story of boy-meets-girl. One cold afternoon of November, a short but charming guy decided to quench his thirst and to hush his grumbling stomach after a long jog. Seeing a small canteen nearby, he steadily rushed towards the mouthwatering banana cues and grabbed himself a small plastic bag of palamig. As he was enjoying his merienda, much to his surprise, he noticed the petite girl who was serving the diners. Somehow, she was familiar. Alas! She was the girl whom he wanted to dance with the other night at a party. Gathering all his guts, he hurriedly went to the girl to ask her name and eventually, to ask her out. A series of late afternoon conversations turned into a couple of dates, which in turn began a new chapter of the romantic phase of their lives. And as they say, the rest was history. This story typically sums up how I came to this world.
So, I’ve spent hours thinking on how I should introduce myself. I want it to be personal and intimate. I want everyone to penetrate the deepest part of my soul. With these, I would like to start by telling you my name. Of course, the typical “Hi, I’m (insert name here)” would be the most convenient. To be a bit different, let me say, “Il mio nome รจ Jeffrey Paulo Hernandez Perez.” So, how did my parents end up with my name?
First, Jeffrey was from my mother's officemate. My mom's officemate was an operator at the encoding company where she was the supervisor. Since my father had to go abroad to support our financial needs, my mother was left alone. Kuya Jeff, as my mom used to call him, was smart, good looking and very kind-hearted. He used to assist my mom as she walked down the crowded hall or as they rode the elevator when she was pregnant. In response to his compassion, she named me after his first name, Jeffrey. Upon looking its meaning on our very thick and dusty dictionary, I found out that Jeffrey, which means "peaceful traveller", is an American English variation of the name Geoffrey, which is the older, British English spelling. On the other hand, my second first name, Paulo, had a biblical origin. It is a popular variation of the name Paul, who is a well-known prophet and wrote a number of epistles in the Bible. From its Latin derivation, Paulus means "small" or "humble". Funny though, when you put together their meanings, it would appear that I have “little peace”. On the other hand, when asked why they didn't name me after my two late grandfathers, Alfonso and Antonio, my parents thought it was a bit old fashioned to name me such. If asked if they had considered other names, they told me that they once considered the name “Jan” since I was born on January. The Hernandez and Perez clans are both from San Antonio, Quezon. As a matter of fact, the Hernandez’s basically populates Brgy. San Jose while the Perez’s inhabits Brgy. Sampaga. The odd thing is it seemed most of my relatives are mostly either Perez-Hernandez or Hernandez-Perez. Imagine the confusion when my cousins on my mother’s side marry my uncles or aunts on my father’s side. Funnily, I even ended up having an uncle marry a niece. And that’s where things go complicated.
To know me further, let me aptly describe myself to you. Starting with the basics, I stand 5’6” tall and weigh 60 kilos. I have a fair complexion, curly hair and brown irises. As they say, my guilty pleasure would be eating. I really love to eat and it’s probably the reason why I don’t know where my money goes. I love sweets and hate vegetables. The only vegetables I eat are potatoes, beans, horseradish and squash, if ever those stuffs are considered as such. I am a born performer, whether be it on plays, dance concerts and musicals. You can always count me in when it comes to “stage matters”. Out of all the artistic crafts I love, dancing would always be the first on the list. Dancing has always been my passion and it will always be. In fact, I would love to create my own folk dance troupe someday.
I am crazy. My nerves respond to a particular stimulus that urged my reflexes to completely control my body. This is the reason behind all the reactions of people around me, expressions made by the cerebrum and expressed by a vocal and in a verbal manner, that never affects of how my cerebellum react about whatever they say. In which my heart never really hurts and I became immune to sudden reprimands, comments and criticisms made by such high race of apes. In short, I really don’t care about what other people say, or whatever they think. I am a being that tries his best to mess on other creatures peaceful lives. I like it when I make people happy in some ways but I enjoy seeing them in pain, sadist shall we say. One very exact adjective that will directly hit me and may actually mean me is “insensitive.” I have experienced many other situations that involved my so called ‘insensitivity’ and trust me, it is effective, I really don’t feel anything. I may call myself half animal and half human without considering the theory of evolution, active and destructive. In my veins flow unlimited sources of energy for reasons still unknown to me, the very reason that I exist in this particular manner, being enthusiastic and over alive, sometimes, you can even see me doing crazy things that you can’t see typical kids do. Shame is never a part of my vocabulary, one thing I failed to add and live with it; shyness is a word applicable only not to me. I am a monster. I am a man who can distinguish right and wrong and side with my conviction; though I tried my best to be open to certain considerable facts. I live on principles in which I had grown with. I am a great hypocrite. Oh crap, I lied again.
To tell you truthfully, it is really ironic that I'm writing a reflection paper right now about turning points that have made a significant development of my “self.” I think I might have had a very important one in the past. Maybe something involving a trauma in a dreary accident. Or finding loads of treasure like gold bars or jewelries. Or having a tea with a mad hatter and a hare. For sure, it's really important and really...turning. But I can't remember it just now. What I do remember happened a little more recently. About yesterday.
Though I can't really confine it to just one single day. It began months ago, maybe four to five, with a simple "hello", drawing to a premature, in my opinion, close last night. Or maybe last Friday. I do not know. It is hard to think straight when you've been hit hard on the head with the ball that has the word GRIEF printed on it in bold black letters.
I do love having friends. I like being one even more. I have a feeling that it's what I was born to do besides performing on stage. Being this one particular person's friend was the most challenging by far. But I pulled through because the person needed me, and I like being needed.
So many times in movies and books, bestfriends begin when they are old enough to sit down in narrow sandboxes, and still be there for each other's respective wedding days. But so many times in real life, (well, at least, in mine anyway) bestfriends are like a fashion statement you change annually. At least I was.
I already had visions of what color motif my bestfriend's wedding would be one day. But unfortunately, my bestfriend only saw as far as what I should wear on the last day of the semester.
This friendship was a little different. Lasting for a meaningful five months, it had been a friendship full of fun, sometimes with a tinge of pain. Five months of laughter, sometimes dabbed with tears. Either way, I liked it though most of the time was like a roller coaster of emotions, a mishmash of feelings. But it had to end like the others had. Except while all the others got tired of my plain-as-a-brick-wall face, this one ended for a very strange reason. It's strange because we don't really understand how it happened. Or maybe, we both do or either of us does; but I can't admit it because I don't want it to be concrete. At least I know I was loved as a friend, too. But no matter what cause, what ploy, what lie I had to use, another friendship ended in a conversation. You may think it’s childish because we fought over a wrong choice of dormitory to stay. And I just had to take it.
I believe that every moment in life is a turning point. Every breath, every step, every blink of an eye is a moment that could change the course forever, even if only in how a person sees something, even only if in that person's mind. I mentioned this one event because it has made me see all the others for what they are.
In one breath, I grew from a toddler to a teenager at the wonderful age of 19. With one step, I graduated from being a "probably-going-to-be-something-in-the-future" to "will-be-even-more-someday". With one blink of an eye, I see my family and friends, see that they have all turned out to be beautiful, wonderful and miraculous. I also see how much I have missed when I wasn't looking.
At this point in my life, things have changed - maybe a bit or maybe a lot. I am stronger now after facing different struggles in my life including life-changing friendships I've shared with some. So right now, before anything else happens, I have to make good in everything. Because if that fateful day comes, I'd have the most satisfying memory and most meaningful turning points a life could ever contain.
