Homebound.

Yesterday, I asked Yeyey where we'd celebrate our birthdays. Hers is February 6, this Sunday. Mine's on the 8th.

Her answer? "Heaven."

 My aunt told her this: "Your Ate doesn't even have a child yet, and you want both of you to go to heaven already?!"

I faked a laugh, but all my worries resurfaced.

In a week from now, I'm turning twenty. But inside, I'm still that spoiled, what-I-want-I-should-get five year old. If you spent an hour looking at me, you'd see I'm just like any other girl my age. Self conscious, full of complaints, has three layers of dark circles in three different shades under my eyes. Well, the last was exaggerated, but you know what I mean.

However, if you'd just spend a minute staring at me, you'd see what I've been hiding. You'd see it in the way my eyes roll. You'd hear it in the crack of my voice. You'd realize how scared I am of the future, of growing old alone, of not being able to achieve my goals.

It's sad how when we want something so bad, we beat the bounds to have them. We don't think straight. We don't care about the consequences, the price we'd have to pay a few years later. Right now, the words I say the most are these: I wish I didn't.

They usually say our mistakes make us a better person. I wish I did a different mistake. I wish I could be a better person in a different way. I don't want to hurt the ones I love, but I will, and it's about to happen. I don't know how I'll get past this. Everything's just so cloudy.

I'm bound to find my home, but I'm struggling on my way. It's not an easy path, this one I chose. It's the one where in the beginning, there's a sign that says Enter At Your Own Risk.

And I, being the spoiled, what-I-want-I-should-get girl, did.