Monday, October 8, 2012

...Of Heroes and Dreams...

"Anong gusto mo paglaki mo?"
- Common old person line to a kid

I don't regret much in my life. I've always lived with the idea of dealing with the consequences of my actions. However, as I grow older, I realize that one of my biggest regrets in life would probably be the fact that I never really put much thought in what I really wanted to be when I grew up. I've always thought that it was just a stupid question old people keep on asking just to break the ice, but they don't really care about. I now realize that it actually is an essential part of laying the framework of what you actually want to be.

I have made it a habit of playing the hero for people around me. I don't go around in spandex fighting crime, heck, I can't even be a reliable person you can borrow money from. But I do what I can. I try to be present, to offer advise, and from time to time actually slap reality on friends figuratively and literally.

And now here I am, ambitious-less and in need of saving. I chose to leave my dead-end job of 3 years to turn to a higher-paying dead end job because of the hero in me wanting to "save" my uncle by being Robin to his Batman in his steadily growing Gotham. I am happily in a relationship, and have a good number of friends who I think enjoys my company, but at these moments of weakness when I think I need to be saved, I don't feel a hand holding mine. I guess it's my fault as well, for not admitting weakness, for feigning stability, for being stubborn when being given advise. But what kind of a hero am I if I show the people I want to save that I am vulnerable? Nobody wants to lean on weak walls. And I want to be leaned on.

My uncle didn't ask for help; I offered mine because I thought he needed it. People don't always come up to me to ask for help, but there are times that I see that they need someone to listen to them and I'm there. Lately, I seem to want that. I don't know how to help me, but I don't want to figure it out. I want someone else to.

At 26, it seems a bit late for me to realize all these. But I guess I'd take the late realization than going on with a life I am no longer content with living. I can't settle anymore. I now know what I want. I can't always be the hero. I can't save everyone. I need to be saved every once in a while.

If I were asked that annoying question again about what I want to be when I grow up, I'd know what to say: I want to write. I want to share my thoughts to the world. I have always aimed to be a little bit of everything, but as a result, I never truly became good at something. Now, I think I want to claim that I write pretty well. I am better at writing than I am doing anything else. Except eating.

I just hope that it's not yet too late to dream.