Saturday, December 17, 2011

Sadness. Self pity. Dancing along the line between the two.

It is the season, they say. Everyone is cheery, wondering why Christmas couldn't come sooner. I have a lot of things I'm looking forward to, but somewhere inside the pit of my stomach, something screams that things just aren't going right these days. I can't explain it. I just feel it.

Whatever I do, I feel like I'm surrounded by gray clouds, waiting to rain on my parade. I'd like to think that tonight is just being one of those nights. After all, I was perfectly okay earlier today. I wasn't great or ecstatic or anything, but I was alright. Tonight, my mind wandered where I've long forbidden it to travel - the past, which hit me in the face with cheesy montage video worthy memories, fully equipped with inexplicable nostalgia and a power strong enough to make me rethink my decisions, take a second look at all the blocks I've built for so long, thinking all this time that they've been keeping me safe, at arms' length, at least, from being crushed by the tornado of  sepia colored photos of the faces I once couldn't look at without feeling at home. It only took one trip down memory lane, and suddenly, the earth beneath my feet was no longer the soil I'd recognized even with my eyes closed.

One snap of a finger, and all the pain that I've been successfully blocking came surging through my veins, right under my skin...The kind of pain more real than anything I've ever felt before. The kind of pain that came with the realization that I've been living in my head for too long, and that nothing is going to permit me to be able to do that again anymore.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Thee emotions, thee hundred words.


You hold me close until the music stops. When the lights go out, we each take a step, farther away from each other, as if we are not already worlds apart. I walk all the way home, wondering if you ever wonder how it feels like to be me, a safety net you fall back on every time you trip and fall. And then I realize, with everything you have gotten yourself into, you must know. The things you do to me are the exact same things she does to you. Best part? You do not seem to mind, too.


The contour of your face is etched in my mind. Every line has its own story of laughter to tell. Your lips curl into a smile, and suddenly, my world is on fire. I can close my eyes and still see, with clarity, the map of your veins tangled up in mine. I lay on my side, ignoring the glaring eyes of the emptiness you left behind. As long as I refuse to see it, it does not exist. Your warmth still lingers here, in this cold, miserable place that has become my home since you walked away.


Tell me, have you ever loved a boy with eyes like oceans? A boy who, when you press your face to his collar, smells of endless possibilities and outstretched horizons? He says my name delicately, each syllable sweet, as fragile as spun sugar. He looks at me as if he has never known a world before me, as if the idea alone might sound strange, unthinkable. We run in circles - endless, infinite circles, and time has as much value as a fine grain of sand - small and weightless and unnoticeable. The only thing that matters is this. This is ours.

Friday, December 9, 2011

November was white, December is becoming gray.

 Today, I woke up to find one of our pet rabbits dead.

I'm struggling to find the right words to say here, as if it would make this feeling go away. As if would soothe the pain. As if it would make me forget the fact that I could almost hear my heart shattering to pieces.

When I came out of my room, Yeyey was on the sofa in the living room, crying. This rabbit was our favorite. I went out to see what happened, and found his dead body lying limp on top of the cage. My first thought was this: where do rabbits go when they die? And then I ran to my room crying, because I didn't know.

I've only felt like this once before, when our pet dog that I grew up with died. Even that was not a big deal for me. He was old, and I didn't see him dead. This is different.

Everyday, at least five times, I grab a pair of scissors, go out, and cut grass from the fields to feed them when my sister has forgotten to give them food. I would always rub his back as gently as I could because I knew that rabbits have delicate spines. I did that yesterday, rubbed his back, then his stomach, and felt something unusually rough and hard, which turned out to be his fur near his feet. It was very dirty.

My sister and I took them out of their cages to wash their feet. My sister took the pink one, and I took the black streaked one, and soaked its feet one by one in the water. By the time we finished, the pink one looked like it took a bath, so I told my sister that she should wipe it dry immediately because it might die. Its body felt so heavy, but the black streaked one was ok. It even snuggled on my lap, but when I gave it food, it didn't eat. In fact, it wasn't eating much the whole day yesterday.

So I put it back in the cage and rubbed its back, just like the usual. My sister put the pink one back not long after. This morning, I heard my grandma asking why Yeyey was crying. "Are you crying because of the dead rabbit? What can we do, he's dead." Very comforting. But I closed my eyes and asked, why? I remember praying for them last night. I wondered how my sister felt, because the pink one was her favorite.

Imagine my surprise when I went out and saw that the pink one was alive. I just felt like I couldn't hold myself together any longer. Here was a proof that I couldn't care for another being without hurting it. What did I do wrong this time?

I feel like puking right now, but my stomach feels empty. My whole body feels hollow. People might say it's just a rabbit, but it's a rabbit I've come to love. I used to read to it. I made him listen to music. I was always the first to applaud when he would show off and stand on his hind legs. I adored him. He was a very important part of my life. Now that he's gone, I ache all over because I already miss him.

I used to think people who cried when animals died were hilarious. Now, I understand.

Rest in peace, nameless rabbit. You'll always be my favorite. I love you, and there's a longing in my arms about the same size as you are. I miss you. I will forever miss you.

Thursday, December 8, 2011


I'm feeling a lot of things all at once. One bad thing about being like this is the thinking that comes automatically during the nights, pulling me away from what could possibly be a deep, dreamless sleep. I don't know how to react to these things, so oftentimes, I just keep my thoughts to myself...but not today. Today, I stepped into the shower and wept.

I'm just excited that my mom is coming home next week, but lurking in the back of my mind are the questions I've been trying so hard to shove aside. What if the things I fear prove themselves to be true?

The last time my mom came home, a lot of drama has happened. It came to the point when I've decided that I was better off living without acknowledging the fact that I had a mother at all. I still remember how that afternoon, I got on a random bus and traveled for three hours without a specific destination; I just wanted a place to be alone, a lace where my pain was my own, a place where I could cry. That day, when I told her that she could start living like she didn't have any children, she begged me to give her another chance. That everything she was doing was for my sister and I.

Now, after roughly two years, she's bound home again. I really can't wait to see her,  but a part of me keeps telling me not to hope for too much cause I might be disappointed. Those things in the past might rise from the grave and haunt us all again, but I want this, too. It took me twenty years to realize that when it came down to it, I don't really have any idea what it feels like to have a mother.

I've spent time with her when I was young, that much I know. But sometimes, when you're 20 and your father has been dead for years and your mother is not under the same roof as you are, you just wonder what could have been. Most people would say it only happens in the movies, but the truth is, it only takes one quick look at a mother and father holding their kids' hands for me to feel jealous and self pity, because I don't remember ever having that. My mom never met my first boyfriend, the first boy to make me cry, and when she met one of my boyfriends, she didn't like him. Most girls would have hated that, but I'm only thankful that at least I have shared that part of my life with her.

You see, most of the time, when it comes to my mom, I feel like a beggar. I feel like I'm so lucky if I get even just an ounce of attention, a dash of love, a minute of her time. I know that she loves me, but I always end up questioning if that is ever enough for her to like me.

So now that she's coming home for 11 days, I guess I'm just hoping that we'll all make an effort to make things work. I'm wishing for some time alone for her and my sister and I, but I don't mind having my uncle along because he's cool. I just want to have this. This little fragment of time with her, so that if this is the last time that we spend together, we spend it happy together. No arguments, no shouting matches, no disappointments. Just some family time to hold on to. To last me for the rest of my life.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

December dreaming.

Someone needs to stop me from watching too many romantic movies.

I keep sitting here thinking someday will come when a man would jump to his feet and chase after me if I decide to run from him on our wedding day.

No... Really, what I keep daydreaming about is that my married life is going to be perfect. That I'm going to come home to a nice little house with cupboards the color of sunshine, with a living room overlooking a small garden with dim lihts, classical music playing in the background.

I'm so lonely. I know the right person will come for me, but when is that going to happen? I have so much love to give, and it feels like there's just no one to receive it. Okayyyy, I know I MAYBE too picky.......but I can't help it that I'm also intimidating. I mean, am I supposed to be like, hey guys, don't be intimidated, I don't mean to intimidate you blah blah? Siiiiiiiigh.

I'm starting to type like an illiterate person so I'll stop. I want a boyfriend! It's almost Christmas and I don't have one. :(