The point of no return

More than 8 months ago, I boarded on Philippine Airlines PR 104 bound for San Francisco, a plane ride, which, to me, is the point of no return. Back then, I looked forward to that plane ride. That plane ride would be the realization of a lifelong dream of living in America. I thought this meant the end of my problems, which I would leave behind in the Philippines. Little did I know, such ghosts would follow me around to haunt me.

As I reflect at what happened in the past 8 months, I am hit with the reality that, perhaps, I was never ready to leave the kind of life I used to have. I was never ready to leave the Philippines. I left in haste and sheer disappointment (and somewhat in anger). Today, I still find myself reminscing and wishing that somehow, I'd wake up and find myself in the past doing all the things I used to do. There are days when I wish I was somewhere else doing something else. Until now.

For most, they would have gotten over that feeling. For some people, it is easy to just drop it and move on. Unfortunately, I am not that lucky soul. The problem with me is that it lingers. Like a cancer, it disappears and reappears. And when it does reappear, it's like a slap in the face. It's a slap in the face that reminds me that I am unhappy and unfulfilled in this kind of life right now. It's a reminder that I cannot find happiness here in any form (such as job satisfaction or being with family), for real happiness to me is far, far away.

Thousands or even millions of other people would die to be in my place right now. To those thousands who line up at the US Embassy hoping to get any kind of visa, I am the realization of their dreams and aspirations. I represent what they call the "American dream", a dream of living in America to pursue success and a better life.

There is no doubt in my mind that in the long run, I made the right choice. A better life it is, indeed. I should be happy, knowing that I am living comfortably amidst all the struggles in life. I have a house, a car, a good-paying job now - everything that every immigrant hopes to have. Like my sister said, I should count my blessings. I should be thankful that everything fell into place nicely, such that I have no problems with lodging, transportation, unemployment, and even papers for me to stay in America legally. It is, indeed, a dream come true.

However, here comes the constant recurrence of a nightmare I've always had ever since it began last year with the death of a dream and the birth of a "what if". As a result, I feel like I came into America unfulfilled, not being able to experience everything I wanted to experience. I feel like my life isn't complete and sadly, this may be a feeling I'll never get rid of. This ghost might continue to haunt me until the day I die.

It's sad that I'm feeling what I'm feeling right now. While the others are out in the sun having a good time, I am inside an office or a dark and chilly warehouse busting my ass off for money. While others are happily in love, I am thousands of miles and an ocean away from my one and only love.

This is not about coming back immediately and giving up everything for me, for this is the point of no return. Somehow, I still have to think about things rationally, in such a way that I have to decide what is best for me. And logically, the choice is America.

I guess I was never really prepared to check out of the old life I used to have, especially the life I lived in high school and college. I guess that's my fault. Maybe it's my fault too that I didn't really plan ahead for my future, because to me, as long as I get back into America, I'll be fine. That was just my goal right after college - to cross the immigration borders safely. That was it. To me, everything ended in college. As such, all my plans were just up to college. Life after it was just a bonus of some sort, and I treated it with a "bahala na", "que-sera-sera" attitude.

Now, I feel the effects of that. My father often reminds me to set a career path - any career at all. Whenever this talk comes, I find myself blank, not knowing where to go or what to do. Sure, I have a job now but am I gonna be happy here in the long run? I don't know. I don't think so.

I had vaguely planned to get deeper into Psychology (maybe as far as a Ph.D.) but I know it requires further studies. I don't have the money for that, unfortunately. I don't have the right motivation either, because what motivated me in high school and college is now dead and cannot be brought back to life and reality. This is why I feel like I am stuck in time. This is why I wish I was just back in college. If I could just stay at a particular point in life, I would pick the ages 18 to 22 - right smack when I was in college. I wouldn't mind living it over and over again because that was THE LIFE. It was the life I had always wanted to live.

When I think about all this, I just think to myself that I'm now living in America. Sometimes, it's consolation enough to know that I'm living a much better life now (financially, that is). But no amount of money can ever take the place of real fulfillment and happiness. I can be the richest man in the world but still be unfulfilled and unhappy. Money is not everything.

I am still optimistic, though, that I will get over this someday. Maybe in a year or two, when I have fully accepted the reality that I'll never get back to the kind of life I used to have. It will just take time, I guess. But right now, let me grieve...