That's what I literally kept thinking since I boarded the bus going to Caticlan port September 10th, when all I ever wanted was to get there ASAP, take a bath, and rest before strolling the magical Boracay Island at night. Or at least that's what I kept convincing myself so I would not loose a screw.
The trip on the way there had been traumatic and unbearable to me. Almost 6 hours of sitting on the bus made me feel like the seat has made permanent marks on my behind. Not to mention there were barbaric uneducated teenage school urchins who were boisterous enough to rouse my murderous instincts. I kept mumbling “inner poise” and “I must forget that patience is not my virtue” to myself.
I read a book, exhausted my mp3's batteries, slept..(or tried to). Halfway in to the trip I was already delirious from hunger, stress, rage, drowsiness and anxiety to get to my destination. Not to mention I almost got caught in a brawl between the bus driver and a rude passenger. Here I imagined myself, haggard and emaciated, in the police station giving an officer my statement as one of the witnesses to a public manslaughter.
Gosh, and did I say that when I climbed down, my feet barely reached ground when the bus took off? Thankfully I have not disgraced myself in any way, since I was carrying two huge and heavy plastic bags of food along with my suitcase which contained my clothes. They all weighed like the world to me, they made walking a challenge, and I simply couldn’t wait to get rid of them.
The 10-minute pump-boat trip seemed like eternity because of my baggage (they psychologically weighed me down) and the tricycle ride from the port to my sister's boarding house was bumpy, in all aspects. I've been to Boracay several times before, but I had no idea how far the Balabag plaza was; she was supposed to meet me there. I told the driver to drop me off wherever I should be dropped off. When I saw her, I felt faint with relief.
Needless to say, after a glorious week stay at Boracay, I am not looking forward to the trip back. I sincerely wished I could do Instant Transmission like Goku did on Dragon Ball Z, or fly the like Superman. I braced myself for a hazardous journey again when I had no choice but to take the air-conditioned bus. I was told that a regular one wouldn't be in sooner than an hour, but I can't afford to dally much. It was a consolation I could still grab a seat by the window. But how I wanted to find a regular bus, so I'd be able to stick my head halfway out the window and there would be no nasty smell of lemon car freshener which I totally detested beyond words.
I never felt like puking up in a long time so I almost freaked out when that I had that familiar watery sensation in my mouth when it was not even that long since the bus pulled out of the terminal. I broke out in cold sweat and prayed that the trip would be over soon. WHY did time seem to be standing still? I fervently prayed that at least I wouldn't throw my lunch back up and make a mess of myself, if the dizziness wouldn't go away. I could fight off dizziness by forcing sleep. Tormenting images of my bed and pillows danced in my head manically.
The hours which followed were probably the longest 5 hours of my life. I fought the urge to cry and stamp my feet in frustration. The bus got crowded, the TV was showing death scenes, and vendors who climbed in thrust homemade pies to my face. I looked at the clock every 3 minutes, willing the hands move way faster, vowing to myself that I'd definitely write about this experience once I got home and rested.
Resigned, I thought of anything that could have been good or meaningful about my journey. I was not able to help anyone (except maybe the young girl who sold corn in the terminal, when I shared some candies with her, but I did not do much, did I?), I could not say my life has been altered, I did not unearth some treasure. I did not meet a long lost twin sister. I kept telling myself to be patient.
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