Whispers in the Pantry: A First Etching

Dear Moi,

My fingers tremble even now as I commit this secret to the digital page – a clandestine encounter that has left an indelible mark. It began as so many stolen moments do, under the cloak of night, within the most unexpected sanctuary: the work pantry. The air crackled with unspoken anticipation, a silent symphony played out in stolen glances and hushed breaths.

But tonight, the script took an intoxicating turn. My paramour, with a knowing glint in his eyes, had orchestrated a prelude I hadn't dared to imagine. A shared secret, a whispered invitation – the "rush" he offered was more than chemical; it was the dizzying acceleration of desire already simmering between us.

Then, the kiss. Not a peck, not a brush of lips, but a torrid claiming, a merging that stole the very air from my lungs. It was a promise whispered in the language of tongues, a prelude to the exquisite transgression that followed.

The cool, unforgiving floor became our forbidden stage. Each stolen touch, each gasp, each frantic movement was a rebellion against the mundane, a fervent dance fueled by pure, unadulterated longing. We moved as one, a kaleidoscope of tangled limbs and fervent whispers, exploring the contours of our desire in a breathless ballet of forbidden pleasure.

A shiver of delicious risk ran through me with every thrust, every moan. The thought of unseen eyes, the silent sentinel of the CCTV, only amplified the thrill. Were we captured in our rawest moments? The possibility added a razor's edge to the ecstasy, a secret thrill that only we would share.

This wasn't just a physical act; it was an etching. A moment seared into my memory, a testament to the intoxicating power of desire unleashed in the most unlikely of places. My marking, a brand of pleasure and secrecy that I will carry with a secret smile.

Dear Moi, some firsts are simply unforgettable. And this one? This one pulses with a vibrant, illicit energy that will linger long after the memory of the cool pantry floor fades.

Talk About Romantic Relationship

Dear Moi

May has arrived, and while a part of me feels a sense of lightness, there's still a lingering undercurrent of uncertainty. It's been a full year since I left my ex after his infidelity, yet the complexities of our connection continue to occupy my thoughts.

Despite the pain of his betrayal, I find myself still drawn to him. He possesses a captivating quality that keeps me engaged on multiple levels. Our paths cross daily at work, leading to playful exchanges and flirtatious banter. A part of me still feels a deep desire to care for him, and the words "come home, I'll accept you" often surface, even though a deeper knowing tells me his heart now belongs to the person he cheated with. Perhaps I've become someone he uses for lighthearted flirtation and a release of physical tension.

The truth is, the physical intimacy we've shared since reconnecting – four times now – has been undeniably intense, at least from my perspective. While I crave more of that connection, I'm trying not to become overly attached, choosing instead to appreciate these encounters for what they are. However, the weekends feel empty, knowing he's sharing them, and his life, with his current partner.

In the digital realm, I've also connected with someone new. We met on the "g app," and I've been struck by his intelligence and the surprising depth of our psychological connection. It's a bit of a rollercoaster, though, as he has ghosted me three times, only to reappear. Currently, we're in a phase of playful conversation and sexting. We're both in our forties, and while I appreciate our mental rapport, I have some reservations. He's a bottom, and on the curvier side, while I'm a switch and have only ever been with bottoms. I'm curious about exploring bottoming myself, and I've typically been attracted to leaner physiques.

Adding another layer of complexity, I recently connected with someone who seemed to tick all the boxes for a potential partner. Yet, I found myself pulling away and ultimately ghosting him. Fear gripped me – he seemed almost too good to be true, and I worried about setting myself up for heartbreak, especially knowing he had his own past wounds.

Despite these connections, I still have Tinder and hold onto the hope of meeting someone who could be a true life partner. I long for the simple joys of attending mass with someone special and miss the profound intimacy of sharing vulnerabilities, fears, laughter, and tears.

My heart continues to yearn for a genuine partnership. I'm sending my prayers out into the universe, hoping to meet the person who will truly walk alongside me through life.

Easter musings

 Dear Moi,

Happy Easter 2025! 

Things have certainly been interesting on my end. Remember that vacant position I mentioned? Well, I'm now the presumptive officer! It's funny because I was actually manifesting for a different role with the same rank, so this came as a surprise. I'm feeling a mix of fear and gratitude as I step into this new responsibility.

Interestingly, I learned some of the behind-the-scenes dynamics during the nomination process. Apparently, one of the administrators didn't vote for me. Instead, she supported someone within her own division – and here's the twist – that person happens to be my former protégé... and ex. Talk about a plot twist! I honestly don't understand her opposition, but as they say, you can't please everyone.

Speaking of the ex, we've been in contact for a couple of months now, both professionally and personally. To be completely honest, we've been intimate a few times, even though he's still with the person he cheated on. I'm grappling with a lot of complex emotions about this situation. Is he doing this to keep me attached, or is it simply pity sex? The only thing clear is the undeniable release of sexual tension during our encounters.

On the advocacy front, things seem to be in a bit of a lull. The NBI concern is still pending, although all the necessary steps have been taken. I anticipate things will pick up again in May with the re-accreditation process. For the other advocacy, we have the oath-taking next week, and with a manager now in place, I'm hopeful that things will run more smoothly compared to previous years. I'm also trying to figure out how to fit in my training obligations. I've already submitted some documents to partially cover the Thailand training from January.

Finances continue to be a major source of anxiety, especially with the looming mortgage. I'm three months behind on payments, and I'm genuinely terrified. I'm praying that the increased salary from my presumptive position, starting in June, will provide some much-needed relief. I know I need to explore the services offered by Pag-IBIG and SSS. I'm incredibly grateful for my mom's support, but the truth is, I'm really struggling financially right now – even my cat's food is in jeopardy.

On a brighter note, I passed the midterm exams for all three of my law school subjects. I'm now focusing on gathering the strength to push through until the finals, which are scheduled for the first or second week of May. If all goes well and I have some funds left over, I'm considering taking two subjects over the summer.

Well, that's where things stand for now.

No images because I'm too lazy.

Whiff of Anxiety and Change

Dear Moi,

The calendar flipped, and with it came a wave of dread. It feels like I'm living in a pressure cooker, where every aspect of my life is simmering on high.

The weight of unpaid bills and looming mortgages keeps me awake at night, each number a cruel reminder of my financial instability. My heart aches with the bittersweet taste of fleeting moments with my ex, a toxic dance I know I need to stop. He is with someone else, and I am destroying my own peace.

My body is a battlefield. The extra weight, the growing lipoma, and the years of neglected health are a testament to my self-neglect. I long for the energy and vitality I once had, a distant memory I desperately want to reclaim.

The academic path to 2027 feels like a mountain I'm ill-equipped to climb. The fear of adding more subjects is a constant shadow. I dream of summer courses, CLEP, ATAP, and Corporate Law, but the financial reality feels insurmountable.

Professionally, a glimmer of hope shines through the directorship vacancy. After years of being overlooked, this feels like my chance. The support of my colleagues is a lifeline, but the fear of another disappointment is a heavy burden.

My advocacy work, my passion, is also under siege. The credit cooperative's digital transformation and the ethics board's legal battles are draining. I feel the weight of responsibility, even though the legal issues are beyond our control.

The first quarter of 2025 is fading into memory. I pray for a second quarter filled with grace and financial relief. Mom's unwavering support is a blessing, but I yearn for the day I can stand on my own.

This is more than just a list of problems; it's a plea for change. I need to rewrite my story, to close the unfinished chapters and begin anew. I need to find my strength, my resilience, and my hope.