Unlike the previous years, I stepped into the conference room today without feeling remotely nervous or anxious.
Unlike the previous years, my contract meeting today was brief and didn't end with a tear-jerking thank you speech.
Unlike the previous years, I walked out of the meeting today without a contract in my hand.
I should be sad. Depressed. Crying.
I should be questioning my bosses' decision. Questioning my self-worth. Questioning my talent.
I should feel useless. Humiliated. Remorseful. Bitter.
I should be all that and more. But I'm not.
So what's next after this?
I don't know. Don't ask me today, for I have no plans yet. All I know is that there's a world out there waiting for someone as hungry for something new as I am, to grab everything it has to offer and make them his own. A world that doesn't need a fairy godmother for dreams to come true. A world that doesn't need another superhero but has enough space for personal victories. A world less magical and more risky. A world less familiar and more trying. A world less candy-colored and more chaotic. A world not-so-small but more real. A world where not everybody smiles and people kill. A world where the faint-hearted do not survive. A world where make-ups are not free and meals are more expensive. A world that doesn't give away free ice creams on scorching summer days. A world that I am cut-out to survive.
I'd be lying if I said I'm too strong to shed a tear. I wasn't that strong. I did shed a tear. It was after I saw my friends and colleagues get misty when I broke the news. And that's understandable. In that little world that became our foster home, the bonds that we have forged and strengthened will be too difficult to part from. Especially when leaving is not a choice that one has made on his own.
But when you're crying inside a comfort room cubicle, and the person occupying the one next to you lets out a potently odorous fart; and then you wipe your eyes dry with cheap toilet paper and you see your eyeliner getting smudged, you know it's time to stop crying and ask yourself the real question:
I choose the latter.
I am Rye. Unemployed in a foreign country starting September 25, 2008. Often broke, but can never EVER be broken.
A toast to the future!