I remember

Let me write you a story.

This is not about all the romantic joys you have given me but all the pains you brought into my naïve heart. This story lingers on the sleepless nights that you have caused me by breaking my heart and destroying my soul. This story is all about you and all the dumb shits you possess. Quite a talent, my dear!

I remember the time when you were frustrated because I didn’t show the world how lucky I am to have you. I remember that look in your face – I slapped your ego.

I remember how you wanted me to be proud that I was your girl- cloaked with your thoughts that you are the most ravishing guy whom all girls die for.

I remember how you often told me that I should be thrilled I was your choice and not the other girls around drooling for your attention.

I remember how you always dump me or making me the prettiest wall flower because you have a gig to attend to and you wanted me to scream that you’re the hottest of them all.

I remember how you cuddled me like a puppet so I would conform to everything you say and anything you wanted me to do.

I remember watching you looking at other girls showing off your cutest smile. I remember how my heart bled looking at those eyes not wanting me.

I remember how you shattered my being – telling me that I wasn’t good enough for you, that I wasn’t the one you dreamt of, that I was just an ordinary girl – lost and insecure.

I remember.

Now, I remember the moment when I finally told you to set me free. I remember you were surprised that I have the guts to leave you.

I remember that look in my face – happy and free.

Tell me, was it a surprise?

Perhaps, I will never see you cry losing me. Perhaps, I was not a great loss. 

Perhaps, I am just nothing to you.

But today, I was happy. 

For once in my life, I learned to ignore the person I loved most.

An Open Letter to My Future Daughter

My child,

(not my photo)

You are blessed with gifts. Gifts that not everyone has. You are special and you know that. As you grow old, you will witness the love and joy of life but along with these are pains, regret and sorrow. I know you will think of giving up but my child you have a long way to go. Cry if you must but do not stop. You may bleed but you can scream. You will feel alone and that feeling will linger for a very long time.

People around you will not understand the hostility happening inside you. They cannot help you even if they want to. Be strong because you have to battle it on your own. You will lose. Many of it. You will taste the bitterness of defeat.  You will be hurt and your heart will sore. My child, you will weep and beg for help but you see nothing and no one will be there. You will feel alone and you will not forget the feeling of being one.

You will feel hate. Show them. They deserve to know that you are hurting, that you are helpless. You needed to be strong so you turn everything into films of hatred. Your soul is breaking and dying inside and you find hatred as the only way to survive. So feel it.

But my child, you will still feel the isolation. Grudges only consume your soul – burying it even more to the gaping abyss of the unknown. You will be lost. Your soul feels empty. Lost and empty.

Remember my child, when you feel this way. Do not wander too far because enemies are lurking over you. They know you are weak. You are vulnerable. You will stumble in the dark. When this happens, someone will offer his hand and you will accept it, thinking he will rescue you. You run to him for safety. You will feel his heart and will listen to the melody of its thumping heartbeat. You will let him embrace your soul. You will let your guard down because you think you are saved. But my child, you are being deceived and when you find out, you will be crushed. Your heart seems to stop beating but tears keep on falling. You have to remember this moment; light will guide you to the right path. You will squint for the light is shining strong. But do not be blinded. The light will take your vision and that’s all he wants.

Go on my child, crawl if you must, but do not stop. You will get there. Dirty, tired and thirsty. But you will get there.  You will tell yourself, “Im done. I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m cursed. Of all people, why me?”.

My child one lesson I will teach and you have to remember this.

When you feel alone, people will see you as someone full of hatred and anger. But they do not know, you just needed one thing -  love. But I’m telling you, Take care of your heart. Other than your soul, it is the most vulnerable. The heart feels anything and everything. Bliss. Pride. Success. Sorrow. Pain. Regret. Failure. Love. Hatred. Disappointment. The heart is strong but weak at the same time. So take good care of it. Do not love when you are hurt. Do not love when you feel alone. Do not love when you are mad. Do not use love as your escape. Do not risk your heart even if it demands freedom. Take hold of it. Do not give in to its ingrained defiance.

Love does not exist for these awful reasons. Love is love. It is pure. It is a blessing. So learn to recognize a deceitful love from a pure love. You will not notice this the first time but you will learn eventually. Do not stop loving. You have a lot to give. Keep it that way. Give your best. So that when it’s time to walk away, you’re sure you will never look back ever again.

Do not stop. Remember these words. Take these words seriously. No matter how bruised you are. Do not stop. No one has the right to tell you to stop.

My child, sometimes life will throw shit on you- everything at once and you will think you are the unluckiest person there is. You will build walls and hide in your own cocoon. Because you believe being by yourself is the safest way to avoid life. Life will be hard, I know. But do not stop living. There is much more to discover other than the pain and sorrow. You just have to live and see for yourself that life is worth living. Everything including all those shit happens for a reason. One day, you will understand that you are made for something great because you are special. So do not stop being one.

SOLITARY PIECE

Dear Rolan,

It’s been months from now since I have written a love letter (if that’s the right word to describe this). You know that I would willingly write a million letters than to talk things with you over in just one night. However, these past few days, I haven’t written anything. Perhaps, I was just too lazy to think or maybe I’m just too tired, juggling between school and work. But this doesn't mean I stopped expressing my love for you. My love will remain even if I’m at a loss for words.

Reading the novel “The Notebook”, my eagerness to write returned. I was envious of the words of love expressed by the main characters of the story. I may sound so dramatic but I know that you know I am a melancholic being, hiding behind words

.

We’ve been into serious fights lately yet we were able to end it right. We still have a lot of things to work out  - defining differences and understanding  them , but I know we can do it.

I am happy being with you and I feel safe when I am with you. However we are separated by distance, the only truth I hated so much. But then you will just tell me softly – “be patient. I’ll come home soon”.

A man so gentle and kind like you is someone I would not want to loss. For I know I cannot find another who cares and loves me with all his heart. No limits. No boundaries. Love beyond horizon. Love even after death.

I know my love will not be equal as yours yet I never heard you complained. In fact, you filled it with your own love and I hope you will never get tired of me.

There is no one besides you because there is no one like you. You are my lover and my hero who saves me from the depths of my loneliness. You are my happiness. You are my shield from those who want to hurt me. You are my strength when I’m at my weakest. I could never dare to love another because it’s a shame to think that someone could replace you. I would rather fight with you, wounded and bleeding, rather than win and savor triumph with someone else.

Others may doubt, skeptic of this relationship but I will only ask them –“is your love like ours?” or just another story of slavery caused by your own love?” I pity them for they will spend the rest of their lives with remorse and wishes, unlike ours – wallowing in satisfaction and bliss.

This may be my last letter for now but please know my love for you is forever.

                                                                                                                                                                                Love,

                                                                                                                                                                                Goldy

Dilettante

  A Lover’s Plea

I can clearly remember how joyful my heart was when I finally saw the man of my life. Standing in front of me, I saw the overwhelming energy of a grown man. By the time he stretched out his hands to mine, I knew he was going to be the man of my life. His eyes looked at me without any hesitations. He was overflowing with confidence and I must say his character fits him well. I was captured by his enticing mystery or maybe I let myself in. I never had second thoughts of what might this man bring to my life. Love or hatred or another unrequited love.

Perhaps I was so desperate, pleading God to show me the man I need, the man who will show me that love can save everything, that love is possible. God, who is always good and compassionate, answered my prayer. Rolan came just when I needed him most. Like any other wounded woman, a bleeding heart takes a long time to heal, Rolan exerted effort to win my heart. He needed the perfect words to please me, he thought of the funniest jokes to make me laugh and he even bought time to beg for my yes. The dim sky that night cried for two people who searched for change and love. Our hearts met halfway. It was bizarre.

This world gives us so much pain and worries, so why not treat ourselves with true love?

This life offers us helplessness and hopeless dreams so why not hide from it under warm and caring arms?

Well I did. I gave myself a gift of love. I selfishly accepted this gift because I believed I deserved it. I deserve a man who would rather die just to let me live. I deserve a man who will not hurt me by saying unkind words. I deserve a man who will tow me along the street, protecting like a little girl. I deserve a man who will cook for me not just because I didn’t know how, but because he knew as petite as I am, loves to eat. I deserve a man who will not forsake me no matter what happens, say Life and Death.

I told God I deserve all of these because I was a good daughter. Aren’t I? Didn’t I?

I pleaded God to give me someone, someone like Rolan. I prayed for it, Dear Lord! You heard me! You listened!

But I didn’t ask you to take everything away from him just to be with me. I would rather endure the pain alone than seeing the man I love suffering, giving up everything for the sake of love.

Why does loving truly hurt this bad? If this is love, can this also mean happiness?

Dear God,

               You know our love is true and we’ll prove people wrong by thinking that a fairy tale –like love doesn’t exist. You are love. So let this love come down and bless us.

               Our weeping hearts beg you to show us that love is eternal, that it will live forever even our bodies are dying. Don’t take this love you bestowed upon us. Take our souls instead, maybe in heaven, we can be together. I know I’m not wishing and praying at someone indifferent, so I’ll beg on my knees one more time. Let this love stay, please!

            I beg you to give my man the strength he needs to continue what he has started. I beg you to let my man live the way you expected from him. I beg you to let my man cry for your grace, let him feel your power. I beg you show him your miracles because he is a miracle himself. I beg you to answer his prayers like you always did to me and to everyone else.

               Don’t’ give up on us we haven’t started yet. Will you allow us to live our lives together? Will you give us another try?

               This is hard but harder for him. The days maybe so gloomy but I’m still holding on to the promises you uttered. 

____________________________________________________________

A Daughter’s Regret

“Regret is the only wound from which the soul never recovers”

Sarah Ban Breathnach

July 25, 2008, my father died. 

Three days after, my father was finally put into rest, laid down underneath the warm ground, wrapped with darkness and silence. I wasn’t there when that sorrowful episode happened. I wasn’t there when my father was finally put into his final respite. I wasn’t there when my family and relatives mourned for my father’s death. (I wonder if they showed sincere grief back then).

Most of the people who witnessed my father’s interment knew that I was my father’s only daughter. So they asked, “Why isn’t she here?” Some answered, “Perhaps she cannot accept his father’s loss.” Yet others, one in particular said,” She’s really a stubborn daughter. She doesn’t show even a little respect over his father’s death”.

Was I disrespectful 4 years ago, when my father bid farewell, forever?

July 24, 2008, a day before my father’s death, I was aboard in Cebu Ferry, on my way to the Queen City of the South, Cebu City. The place for my first job. Call Center. 

July 25, 2008, I arrived at Cebu Pier about 10:00 o’ clock in the morning. (Few hours before my father’s death).My batch and I went at once to my workplace, IT PARK. It was my first time to be in Cebu, so I followed the crowd of soon-to-be call center agents, afraid of getting lost. An hour after, we arrived at the HR office, right then and there, we were instructed to process our TIN at the BIR’s office at Lahug. Without any complains, we pursued to our next destination. Since the BIR was just right at the corner, we decided to walk. I can clearly remember that day. It was hot and I was wearing a black t-shirt, (a gift from my cousin, Ate Chix). I didn’t notice that I’m already set for the day, (wearing a traditional black colored t-shirt suited for mourning,) not until someone called me.  He asked, “ Is this Goldy”. I answered, “Yes”, why? I wasn’t ready for his reply and it caught me frozen, right in the middle of my transaction at the BIR’s office. “Your father is dead”. I quickly turned off the phone, took a deep breath and texted the number, “I don’t know who you are so stop texting me. My father is not dead”. But that stupid guy was eager to let me know how my father uttered my name in his last breath. So instead of stopping, he sent more messages on how my father struggled, on how he cried and mentioned my name, on how he wanted to live and on how my father wanted to go home and spend much time with his family.

Never a single tear fell from my eyes when I was informed of the sad news. Yes, I didn’t believe that guy on what he told me. I didn’t want to believe.

When we were done with our TIN, we went back to the HR Office and finally we were told to settle ourselves at a hotel where they booked us for our two week training.

When everything was fixed, I hurriedly went to my assigned room and tried to relax. Still baffled by the news, I sat down and tried to get some sleep, when my phone rang. (Now, I remember, NOKIA 1100, my first phone, a gift from my father). It was mama. “ Jing, Papa is dead”. I ran straight to the bathroom and sobbed. It was true. My father left without a promise of return, just like what he used to tell me when I was a young.”Papa needs to work. I will come home, Jing”. But this time, he will never be home. After talking to mama, I went out and without any hesitations, I cried furiously in front of two strangers (who happened to be my friends after, Corina was one). I cried and told them what happened. We just met so they didn’t know how to comfort and ease the pain I felt. I had no one to talk to, no one to cry on. I was alone. So I kept that pain until the day of my father’s burial. 

No one knew about what really happened before I walked out the day before the burial. No one knew on what I heard and on what I discovered. It was painful. It hit me, BIGTIME.

I knew my father wasn’t mad at me when I did it. My father knew me better than anyone else present in his wake. He knew that I was mad at the hypocrisy of some people. HYPOCRISY-I hated it and he hated the same thing.

If ever I was able to attend my father’s funeral will I get over it? Will my longing stopped right there? Will this emptiness be filled? Will this regret, this mortal wound, be cured?

I felt no remorse on why I decided not to attend his burial. I don’t want to remember in my lifetime on how he was placed in that small box. I don’t want to carry that picture inside my head in my whole life.

The only thing I regret until this very moment is that I wasn’t able to tell papa that I had already forgiven him. Maybe it’s too late now but before I turned 25, I will let everyone know that I have forgiven my father.

“I forgive you papa for hurting mama. I forgive you for hurting my brothers. I forgive you for hurting me. I forgive you for giving me unfulfilled promises. I forgive you for offering me unreachable dreams. I forgive you for leaving us. I forgive you for spending 2008 as our first and last New Year Together. I forgive you for telling me that I will become a lawyer yet you didn’t send me to a law school. I forgive you papa because you weren’t there on my first pageant night. I forgive you for not attending my graduation day. I forgive you papa for mistakenly greeting me on November 16 instead on November 5. I forgive you papa because you chose to die away from us. I forgive you for wanting to suffer alone. I forgive you for not knowing and believing that we waited for you and we never got tired of loving you. Papa, I forgive you for everything.”

Papa is gone and he took with him that “papa’s girl” part of me. Now it’s empty. I miss my father. I may happen to forget this longing sometimes but deep inside my heart is a girl who looks for his father to carry her around his neck. 

I miss you papa every night before I go to sleep. You used to brush my hair before I go to bed, remember? I miss you papa calling me by the name “JING”. You were the only one allowed to call me that and I tolerated it because I loved the way how it sounds when you call me, JING. You owned this little girl named, JING. I am truly your daughter.

I will never regret the fact that you are my father. You may not be the best and perfect father there was, but I am proud, because you taught me well. If I was born male, I will be your junior for sure. But I know you loved me for being me. This little girl who loves to be with you, wherever you go, to the beach, to the midst of the forest or at the middle of the battle ground. You know I will be there. 

Papa I’m a big girl now, I hope you don’t regret seeing me grow beautifully just like what you wanted. I love you papa.

I visit Papa every now and then. Standing in his grave, I still feel that sting of guilt and regret for not being there when he called me. I pray, Papa can forgive me too.

I am trying to move on and to live my life normally. 

UNDONE....

I thought I was okay. I thought everything was alright but I was wrong. Stranded in this cold, lonely place, I was a complete stranger. I certainly had no idea on what awaits me here. At first, I thought it was a challenge but after a painful realization, it was more of a bad luck or you can even call it a curse from the devil’s dungeon.

It was far from what I anticipated of this place. I thought the coldness of this place was sweet, a romantic haven but it was the other way around.

In this place, I tasted the bitterness of loneliness, licked the wound of solitude. Without mercy, this place took away all my weaknesses and showed it all to me. Like a helpless child, I was haunted, terrified and barely breathing. I needed a savior, someone came, just the right timing.

Overwhelmed of his presence, I never saw what was coming – DANGER. Instead of being careful, I was reckless, taking all the offers. Kind or unkind, sincere or deceitful.

I wasn’t blinded by love. I was blinded by the emptiness and longing I never knew I had inside. He was a human of pain, sadness, uncertainties, totally a lonely creature and it was contagious. The strongest challenger I had and this time with him, I lost something I have carefully kept for a very long time. Tough enemy.

Giving up was never an option because something was telling me that everything will be alright. That one day he will wake up looking for me and will tell me, “I’m still here because I know you’re coming. Now you’re mine”. I just wanted him to own me. Inside this cocoon of coldness, I was hoping that his cold heart will change for me, giving me the warmth I needed.

DAYDREAMING.

Just when I am ready to bestow my heart, taking the risk of his untold mystery, Good God, showed me of what may be the outcome of my fearless act.

Catch 22

( It took me a while to finish this one kay wala nako'y masumpay. Delayed akong emote.XD)

I am afraid. I am always been afraid. I can’t remember when exactly this fear started. Maybe it was when I used to see my mother walking away and leaving me alone at home. Maybe it was when Papa brought me in creepy places just to hunt birds and there I met strange bugs and worms. Or maybe it started when I fell in love and got hurt. BITTERSWEET.

I am afraid of life because it is unpredictable. I am afraid of what lies ahead. I am afraid of failures, of disappointment, of defeat, of breaking down, of being weak, of falling in love, of getting hurt. I AM AFRAID.

I am not a daredevil. I don’t take risks. I don’t believe in getting success through risks.

Risk of getting hurt, risk of being dumb, risk of oblivion, risk of choice and risk between losing and victory. COWARD.

I am too cautious of every decisions and actions I make. I want to make it perfect. I want everything to happen according to plans. Plans I made. I perfectly made. But then “circumstances beyond our control” as they call it, I always fail. Worst, I failed the people around me but it still fine, people are people, and they forgive and tell you “it’s okay my dear, everything happens for a reason”. LIES. Anything that is painful or disappointing is never okay. And the cliché “everything happens for a reason” is a lame excuse. Until now I’m still trying to convince myself that everything happens for a reason. How could that reason be unknown to us? I wonder.

I am afraid of “what might have been”. I am afraid of “I could have done better”. I am afraid of “someday I will make it". I am afraid of the past, of the present and yes, of the future. I’m afraid that there will be more failures ahead of me. I am afraid that I could no longer endure the burden. I am afraid of looking back because the more I recall the past, the clearer the picture appears, the tangible the pain there is. Maybe I don’t have the ability of moving on. And if did move on, I chose the safe way to oblivion. No relic.

How could I be so afraid now? Maybe because I’m once bitten, now twice shy. It seems I have lost everything and now, I have nothing to give. And this tortured anguish for a world deprived of luck; I don’t know where I am going. I’m lost in this long winding rough road. OBSCURE.

At the age of 23 I still have nothing to show off. FIASCO. I think I lost chances in this seemingly prejudiced world.

Procrastinations are everywhere and I’m caught with it. I am afraid of waiting, uncertain of what will happen tomorrow.

But then the unpredictability of life surprises me HUGE. ( hahaha..i used the term HUGE instead of MUCH, ambot ngano..) Just when I am at the brink of despair, God pulls me back and throws me up, enough to open my eyes on the things I cannot see. Shame to me that I only recognize Gods' endless clout when I am in trouble. SELFISH.

He took away all the fears I created and replaced it with hope. When I almost decided to settle for something less, God whispers,” Always set a high value of yourself. In that way, people will give you the respect you deserve.” CONFIDENCE.

Perhaps, fear may reside within me. It may haunt me some time but I know I won’t give in. For fear, won’t stop me from BEING ME. God never misses to reward those people who wait. And I’m Glad I waited. PATIENCE.

All these fears I have inside, I wish someday would vanish. For I know I can’t live my life in fear.

One of these days I hope I will not be afraid of sailing.

On Being Human

( I forgot to blog this one. Good thing I rummaged through my notes. I wrote this when I was still in Manila few months ago. Another dramatic moments.) What's new!

It’s hard to admit that sometime in our lives we are losing hope. When we are struck by immeasurable pain of tragedy, we cry and kneel in defeat. It’s hard to deny from people that behind our smiles and laughter, there hides a lonely and miserable soul. We cannot deceive others from the pain that we are feeling inside. Why?

Because each one of us shed a tear for the same reason. It may happen in different ways but still it’s the same pain and suffering that everyone has faced. Maybe this is one thing that makes us human – enduring the same misery.

There are times when I thought that I was so unlucky to experience the worst things in my life. I never realized that there are people out there who are suffering more than I am. Well when you are in so much pain, you will no longer notice what’s happening around you.

How could it be that a soul with good intentions is the one to suffer the most?

There are truths and even lies in this world that remain to be a mystery. Even if we try to figure it out the answers wouldn’t jus come out.

I am afraid of becoming selfish because I wouldn’t want other people to cry and be hurt out of selfishness. But at times I thought of becoming selfish. I wouldn’t deny that sometime in my life I wanted to be selfish. But I can’t.

I don’t want to see myself in victory out of stealing happiness from others.

Maybe this is what makes me human.

Searching for my own happiness and the happiness of others.