Fifty weeks and counting

As always - well, not as always, but after fifty weeks as a torn employee, I've gotten used to this sort of conversations. Virtual, and deep despite the fact that we should be doing something else. In my case, news articles. In Ariane's case, well, whatever she's being asked to do.

"Niko-niks," she said.

"Yannie-yan," I answered.

"I'm torn," she started off. "Or, should I say, lost. As always."

"Between two lovers?" I quipped.

"No, not really," she answered. "Love is okay." But I wasn't thinking of love during the time. I was in a metaphorical state of mind, and after all this time, I knew what she was talking about.

"It's work that bothers me," she said. "Dude, mag-wa-one year na tayong wala sa DLSU. At one year nang nagtatrabaho."

"So what's your point, then?" I said. I didn't mean to sound snobbish, but she should have a point.

"Wala," she admitted. "Kinukumusta ko lang tayo. You and me both."

"Alam mo na ang sagot," I said.

"Eh, ayun na nga," she said. "My frustrations are starting to resurface again."

Familiar situation, I figured. It's when you've gotten tired of thinking of them, but you haven't really any choice. "Alam mo na sasabihin ko," I only said. Not a good line, in hindsight.

"Humor me," she answered.

"Me?" I went.

"What about you?" she continued.

"Ayoko nang ulitin," I said.

"Okay," she answered. "I guess there's an answer in that. In itself." I didn't understand what she meant. I was too sleepy to press her. Besides, she somehow changed the topic.

And your responses...

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