It's About Time

I changed my mind. Sorry.

My morose days are over and it’s time for me to get out of the cocoon made by the evil ministrations of some people who cannot live with the fact that happiness, indeed, exists in this world. Sorry, but no amount of harassment, intimidation, bullying, and threats can stop me from writing nor keep me away from blogging, neither.

I deeply apologize because it is uncomfortable for me to write about this topic as I was gone for a while, but I strongly feel that the time has come for me to react and defend myself. It is just about time.

I have to say that this year, right from the beginning, has not been good to me. I lost so much that I felt it could well be the end of everything. But I held on. As hard as I could. Steadfastly. And it was a struggle, if I must say. A difficult one, and it was a continuous battle against my wit. An intellectual challenge, a moral argument, a spiritual clash. And I dealt with all the difficulties with decency, sincerity, and honesty. For my upbringing can only allow me that and not less.

And then sometime last month, in the sweltering heat of April, something very, very good happened. Something unexpected, unforeseen, and totally bewildering. But good. So good that it felt like Christmas morning to me. So good that it didn’t seem real at all. It still doesn’t feel real after more than a month, and I pinch myself from time to time if only to convince me that indeed, this beautiful thing is happening and that I am in the middle of it.

Then again, the cruelty of this world kept up with me. While I was busy basking delightfully in my new nest of joy, happiness, and bliss, an evil gloom crept in like those thick, dark rain clouds.

It all started with text messages sent to my friends meant to warn them about me and my “shady character”. The person began calling me names, and inventing things in his/her effort to discredit me. This person claims to be someone from one of my previous relationships and told my friends to stay away from me because I am simply bad, evil, and not to be trusted. She said I destroyed her, broken her family, and even took her away from her friends. She even maligned my family by calling us witches. A family of quacks, that’s what she said. Wow. That was a huge blow on me. Call me names, that is fine. But touch my family and you’re going to hell.

At this point in my life as a near-middle-age-adult, I can confidently say that anyone can call me names, and say anything bad that they want to say about me, for whatever their reasons are, but I won’t budge. Why should I?

Why should I feel bothered if there is not even the minutest amount of truth in their words? Why should I fear anyone when I knew in my heart that I didn’t hurt anyone? Why should I feel intimidated by these people who do not even have the decency to at least come out in the open and say it to my face how bad I am and how much they hate me? Why should I falter when my conscience is pure?

Let me make this clear, that I am not giving this person the dignity of this situation because of an entire blog post dedicated to her. I am writing this as a farewell note to her evil ministrations and malicious deeds. I am writing this to send her the message that unlike her, I do not have the habit of intimidating and harassing girls and women to coerce them into a relationship with me. That unlike her, I do not force people to stay friends with me. That unlike her, I treat friends and colleagues with so much respect and nothing less.

You underestimated me, you know. You underestimate me if you think I am incapable of courting and winning women's hearts just because I can. And you know what, I just so hate it when people underestimate me.

Your days are over, you scheming bitch.

If you want your own woman, go get one. But stay away from mine. Because if you do come near her, I will turn your world upside down for you. Whether you like it. Or not.

And lastly, Miss Scorned-Jilted-Dropped-Ditched Woman, I want to tell you this, in your face, so read on.

I am my father’s daughter. I am Clement Dionglay. And yes, I feel so sorry for you.

Sorry dear, but I have arrived. When you were simply too late. Sadly.