Thursday, December 31, 2009
Captured
Most likely when you are born and raised in the metropolitan Manila, you think you can never see yourself at another place in the country anymore. But what if one day—let’s say, the day after your high school graduation—your dad drops the bomb on you: “Hey Kiddo…you’re going to Dumaguete to study.”
What?
Dumaguete? What in the name of Batman have you ever done wrong? Dude, their so-called malls close at 7pm. And they have lunch breaks! The so-called malls close during lunch time! What the fuuuuuudge. I so pity you. :(
So anyway, you start complaining, looking at the the paper bags full of dresses and shoes you happily accomplished after one whole day of shopping at Greenbelt. Being the bratty daughter that you are, tears start streaming down your face. You know that whatever you do, once you board that plane to Negros, there was no more enjoying of the material things the metropolis has to offer.
You thought it was going to be such a My Super Sweet 16: Exiled kind of horrid experience.
But to your surprise, it wasn’t.
Over the years, you have come to realize that there are tons of things a person can do in Dumaguete City that no one can ever do anywhere else after all. And you actually weren’t being sarcastic when you said that. You were pointing out what makes Dumaguete unique—with all its unpredictable pedicab drivers, its ukay-ukays, its restaurants that close during Sundays.
You still don’t stop whining so much. But you have to admit that you have learned to love the City of Gentle People.
Yes, you’ve been captured by its serenity. Its simplicity. Its beauty.
And that’s the reason why for the nth time, you so can’t wait to go back. :)
..........
What?
Dumaguete? What in the name of Batman have you ever done wrong? Dude, their so-called malls close at 7pm. And they have lunch breaks! The so-called malls close during lunch time! What the fuuuuuudge. I so pity you. :(
So anyway, you start complaining, looking at the the paper bags full of dresses and shoes you happily accomplished after one whole day of shopping at Greenbelt. Being the bratty daughter that you are, tears start streaming down your face. You know that whatever you do, once you board that plane to Negros, there was no more enjoying of the material things the metropolis has to offer.
You thought it was going to be such a My Super Sweet 16: Exiled kind of horrid experience.
But to your surprise, it wasn’t.
Over the years, you have come to realize that there are tons of things a person can do in Dumaguete City that no one can ever do anywhere else after all. And you actually weren’t being sarcastic when you said that. You were pointing out what makes Dumaguete unique—with all its unpredictable pedicab drivers, its ukay-ukays, its restaurants that close during Sundays.
You still don’t stop whining so much. But you have to admit that you have learned to love the City of Gentle People.
Yes, you’ve been captured by its serenity. Its simplicity. Its beauty.
And that’s the reason why for the nth time, you so can’t wait to go back. :)
..........
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
For My Mass Com Loves. <3
This has previously been posted on my Tumblr account. I'm kind of just recycling this thing. Haha.
It was June something of 2007. Everything was new. Everything was strange. Everything was, well, scary. But no sir, amidst the shaking legs and the I-kinda-wanna-barf feeling, I actually wasn’t—gulp—lost. Walking along the corridors of the tallest building around (with the fascinating mystery elevator), I saw those struggling to carry their brand new Batman and Hello Kitty binders and yellow pads whilst holding their printouts with their two hands, not to mention having a big fat question mark on their faces, and I thought to myself: HAHA. Bleh! (The place was just so scary, I hope you understand)
Anyways. Because although like them, I was also sporting my new purple Precious Moments binder that I proudly bought from Lee Plaza all by myself and the yellow pad that I later on cried over when I found out professors all required intermediate pad (My explanation: one day when I was little, my mommy told me that yellow pads were used by college students, that’s why ever since then , I so waited for the day of graduation from grade school and high school and pad papers with red and blue lines…), I did know the location of my first class of my first day of my first year in college.
Ahh. Com Room 1, Guy Hall.
I walked inside. And from that moment on, everything about my life changed forever and ever and ever.
You know, I used to hear people say things like “I had the best years of my life in high school.” Or, “The most unforgettable guy for me is my high school sweetheart.” Whatever. Nobody dares, so I’m making myself the exception.
Yes, with three years of being under unpredictable professors and instructors, of experiencing those sleepless nights that gave me moments of bonding with the coffee mug and the little girl underneath the study table that nobody else could see, of staring at my locker for an hour or so every morning, chanting like a primitive person: “what to wear, what to wear” as if the gods would actually give a to die for outfit that would miraculously make me look like Meagan Fox, of encountering group mates who either don’t show up at all or purposely don’t adjust their watches that happen to be three hours late, of eating green eggs (it’s a specialty, a delicacy probably) during breakfast, of stopping myself from riding a pedicab to Ceres terminal during those I-can’t-do-this-anymore moments, of falling in line until forever at one corner of the library for piles and piles of photocopied materials, of required activities that I need to attend or else it’s buh-bye 100 bucks, and of stupid—stupid—encounters with those of the other species (aka as boys), I can say that I am having the best years of my life in college (don’t worry, my high school friends already know). And yeah, maybe, just maybe, the most unforgettable guy for me is yet to arrive here in college too (Don’t laugh; I still have three semesters to go, excluding this semester).
College is crazy. College is hard. College has full of drama. But it is from these same reasons that make College such a memorable part in each person’s lifetime. For those who don’t agree: YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. Get up on your feet, dive at Apo Island, play Frisbee with a stranger, jog at the boulevard at 5am and witness the unbelievable sunrise, eat kabayo (I just realized recently how stupid I am for taking the place’s name literally), ride a bicycle, shop at an ukay-ukay, hang around with people you’re intimidated with, sing Jai Ho(with matching dance steps please) in front of the class while waiting for your scary-strict teacher to arrive, buy pizza for the kids at the boulevard and play tag with the kids at the Early Education Department, say Hi to that pretty girl at the front row for the very first time, run naked in the middle of the night—the sky is the limit. This is college. College in Silliman, if I may add. Okay, but don’t forget to not wear rubber slippers during your major classes. And I was kidding about the run naked in the middle of the night part. Also, please take the New Vehicle Policy seriously.
One of the things I like about college is that changes are constantly at hand. And you know what’s funny? I actually hate changes. I can be a person with a boring everyday routine, but because of the many unexpected events of college, I am forced to get my sorry behind moving.
Every semester, we are given a new set of subjects with a new set of classmates and a new set of teachers. I realize it’s actually cool. Who would ever want to take the dreadful Calculus something subject for every semester of your four years (or more) in College anyway? Also, different teachers means broader knowledge—because you can really learn a lot of things from them, if you just stop thinking for once about what to give your uyab on your fifth monthsary or how to defeat your friend at level 36 of what on-line game do you call that one again, during discussions. And having different classmates means more people to wave hello to when walking around with your ultimate crush—trust me, it’s a major turn on. Every day is a new chance to try something new. Every day is a new chance to learn unsinkable lessons and absorb that Silliman-ness that we can truly boast of in the oh-so-near future. Ahh, I just heart college. College in Silliman. I can never imagine being anywhere else but here.
I still think about my first day in college. Most of the faces I first saw inside the room have already gone, leaving the rest of us hanging on as we pass piles after piles of news stories. I took up MassCom because there’s not much Arithmetic. It’s true. But sometimes, I feel like I’d rather solve nosebleed Algebraic problems than write. Don’t get me wrong, though. I love my course. I love my college. I love writing. I can’t imagine doing anything else but this one. What I’m trying to say is that—and this is a big shout out—I’ve had enough people asking me whether or not my course is hard, because IT IS HARD. It’s just as hard. Please stop doubting; it just so happens that we know the beauty regimen for eyebags and horrible breakouts.
But still, I’m halfway there, I think. I’m kinda almost at the finish line of college. I still feel scared sometimes. But not because of the same reason I had some two and a half years ago. I am now scared because I know that it would be so awful—heartbreakingly awful—to leave all of this behind someday. I am so having the time of my life that it’s painful just thinking about the fact that I have to say goodbye too.
I wonder how the batches ahead of me, whom I now see enjoying their professional lives—thanks to Facebook, were able to make it. I like to experience work, but not now. Let me savor college first; the joy and pain of it. And hey, why not join me, friends? Come on. Stop complaining so much. You’re missing a lot. Let’s all start enjoying our life here. Must love college.
.......
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Invisible.
Some weeks ago, I was writing about Those Guys Who Have No Idea That They Have Actually Wronged Me, and last night I had a
I am going to share with you, however, a journal entry about that person, to give credit to him for visiting me in my dreams and waking me up at 3am, sweating, panting, screaming.
And by the way, just to make things clear, this person I just had a
We’ll call him Chlorofluorocarbon, CFC if you hate tongue twisters. And if you’re wondering about the bizarre code name…don’t bother.
So before I share with you the entry, I ask please, don’t judge me. I was completely fooled then (and wait, if you think about it, I’m still fooled now considering that despite all the hurts, I still bother dedicating one whole post on my blog for him…TSK!!!). I was brainwashed and he didn’t even have to do anything.
But you know what? It just gave me an idea: if I become president of the Philippines, I would mandate a law that states No man should break a woman’s heart in any way—even when he’s oblivious about the fact that he’s doing it (aka the Heartbreak Law). Anyone who violates this law would have to pay a sum of P5,000,000 and serve ten years in prison.
Woohoo! WOMEN EMPOWERMENT!!! I mean hello, breaking a woman’s heart into a million bits is just like murdering an innocent person. I am not even imposing death penalty so I think all’s fair. And oh, the Heartbreak Law only applies to heartbroken WOMEN. Another law supporting heartbroken men could be issued. I just am not the right person to support that law. Sorry. :p
Anyway. Here’s the journal entry dated August 30, 2008:
I saw him last night. He was wearing his uniform. He looked really good it made me blush. I thought it would be our chance to finally talk.
“Just one genuine HI from you, Jeahan. That’s just what he needs for him to realize that everything did not just end last summer.” I hear my roommate talking and see myself like a puppy completely uwat-ed to whatever she was saying.
CHLOROFLUOROCARBON. He was my classmate but I don’t reckon ever talking to him during our class. We even became group mates, yet words just won’t come out whenever he’s around.
It’s not like I was even attracted to him at first. Yes, I knew he was kind and I thought he had that quirky smile I found irresistibly cute. And when our eyes would meet during class interactions, I’d feel just a little bit of chill down my spine. But I ignored these at the time for I liked someone else in that class.
The semester ended and summer came. I saw his profile in Friendster and decided to add him as my friend. After all, I knew him…he was my classmate, so why not add him, right? I never thought that it would be the start of that which added some sweetness to my summer (which later on made me realize that the beautiful things do happen during times when you least expect them to happen).
I once asked him why I’ve been meeting the wrong guys, the very reason, by the way, why I am like this: not completely a man hater but on a day-to-day basis, I try to keep my distance from the opposite sex. He must have laughed for I asked the question to him, of all people. Later on he told me (well, commented/typed) this: “You know, maybe you’ve already met the right ones, you just don’t know until you really talk to them and get to know them a bit (like what we are doing right now).”
When I read this on my computer screen, I actually cried. I CRIED!!!!!!! I kept on asking God, “Could he be IT??? Could that *insert his course here* boy from my *insert the class where we became classmates here* class be the person I have been waiting for all my life?”
He understood me. He listened. He responded. I didn’t have to pretend to be perfect or cool because actually, our imperfections were one of the things that we freely admitted with one another.
For many years I have been listing the qualities that I want to defy the man of my dreams. Hell yeah, he has to be TALL, SMART, ATHLETIC WITH A PERFECT SMILE AND A PERFECT LIFE. Maybe that is one of my mistakes. I’ve been keeping my standards so high. I’ve not been searching for the right person—I’m only searching for someone who can only live in the figment of my imagination, the one who’s undeniably perfect. But there is no perfect guy, I have come to realize. A lot of them out there try to be one, and that’s just so annoying. This guy, however, is visible, very much reachable and is just not afraid that he does something lame on many occasions. He laughs and learns from his mistakes. Isn’t he just the perfectly imperfect guy?
What I remember most about him is when he said (well, typed), “There is always someone in the world having almost the same thoughts as you do.”
Now here’s the thing. I have convinced myself a long time ago that it’s impossible to meet someone who almost thinks the same way I do because there are 6 billion people in the world and if there ever is a person who does think almost as I do, there’s only 2% chance that I’d ever be able to meet that person.
But that summer, the 2% chance that I laughed about suddenly became a hundred. Someone else in the world does have almost the same thoughts as I do. And that someone happens to be that boy, my seatmate during one activity, the one I completely ignored. Who would have thought??? While others searched high and low all over the world, I had mine inside the classroom.
He put the sweet, purple icing on the foamy, tasteless chiffon cake of my summer...
But the chiffon cake grew molds in time. Yes, everything started and ended that summer.
Everything ended because:
- After that summer, I never was able to muster up the courage to talk to him on campus, and why, you ask? I have no idea why, maybe I was scared, maybe I just wanted to wait or maybe we just weren’t meant to be, period.
- Wait. What ended? We never really had anything to begin with. He was just being a friend. A really sweet and good friend who makes you want to believe that you’re really special, like special I-want-you-more-than-a-friend kind of special.
- Again, ladies and gents. I WAS FRIGGIN ASSUMING.
I was being that natural assumer that I always have been so he got himself a girlfriend.
Oh you have no idea. Absolutely no idea how my world just shatters into micro pieces every time I see him with his girlfriend.
Let’s put it this way: I lived in this fantasy that I finally met Prince Charming and as it turns out one day I realize Prince Charming happens to be a toad…alright…not a toad, but just not the Prince Charming for me.
From the very beginning I have made myself believe that he has a thing for me, that’s why those comments I got from him signaled Like Like when it was just Like.
I REALLY WAS SMILING FOR NO REASON THAT SUMMER.
I thought I found love in him, but I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.
But tell you what. It really was hard getting over him. It took me many, many excruciating months to get over him. He really is the closest thing I ever had to a Prince Charming. HOW SAD IS THAT??? I used to think that even if he will never realize just how much I treasure him in my heart, I will keep on waiting that one day we would be able to talk and we will understand each other. I might only be assuming things again but still, I am opening my doors because maybe, just maybe, I am also special to him.
I can say that he is now placed in line together with the other people who can prove to you right now how much of a loser I really am. Especially with this. Especially with love.
I don’t hate him. I hate me. And I hate what has happened to us. If fairy godmother appears right now, I won’t ask for a new pair of Havaianas. I’d ask her to turn back time until that night when I saw his name in Friendster and added him.
I wish I never gave those comments. I wish he never was that smart. I wish I never let myself fall. I wish I don’t feel sorry for myself right now.
Yes, I have gotten way over him but sometimes I still wonder what would it have been really like if it had been us?
If he had become my first ever boyfriend since Land Before Time?
I used to believe he was perfect for me. But perfect is not perfect enough, I guess.
That’s why he never was able to approach me.
That’s why we never were able to talk.
That’s why we never got to know each other more.
That’s why we’re not together right now.
And that’s why they passed right in front of me, holding hands.
Enjoy, dude. I’m happy for you. At least you finally found that love you’ve been talking about some months plus forever ago.
Well, I'm not a fan. I heard this song from my sister's playlist one boring afternoon. It just struck me how much this song so much talks about how I kinda feel right now. Way to go, Taylor Swift. HAHA. By the way, I have nothing against The Girl.
Lyrics:
She can't see the way your eyes
Light up when you smile
She'll never notice how you stop and stare
When ever she walks by
And you can't see me wanting you
the way you want her
But you are everything to me
And I just want to show you
She don't even know you
She's never going to love you
Like I want too
And You just see right through me
If you only knew me
We could be a beautiful miracle
Unbelievable, instead of just invisible
There's a fire inside of you
That can't help but shine through
She's never gonna see the light
No matter what you do
And all I think about
Is how to make you think of me
And everything that we could be
Like shadows in a faded light
We're invisible
I just wanna open your eyes
and make you realize
I just want to show you
She don't even know you
Baby let me love you, let me want you.
You just see right through me
But if you only knew me
We could be a beautiful miracle,
Unbelievable, instead of just invisible.
She can't see the way your eyes
light up when you smile.
.........
Friday, November 6, 2009
You ask me about what I fear at the moment.
Let me start here: It's an obvious fact even a five year-old can understand that when you really, really, REALLY like someone everything that person says means something to you.
DUH.
And sometimes you interpret it the way you want because you want the feeling to be mutual.
DUH-rer!!!
But the devastating part is this: what if you’ve been reading between the wrong lines?
DUH-rest!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (sorry for taking advantage of the unlimited use of exclamation points on my keyboard, I just want to make sure that you understand my wrath or fury or whatever)
So tell me, what would you do if you ever found out that he only sees you as a friend?
Ohgoodnessgracious. Killyourself ASFASTASYOUCAN…
…fine I’ll cut the drama. :(
But I'll let you in a little secret: Yes, I like him so much that I’m afraid to get hurt if I find out he’s not interested to have me as nothing more than a friend.
There I said it.
I’ve been making my life miserable for many years now. See, I am an assumer. Yes, haven’t you heard? Assuming is the first step in making a complete fool of yourself.
Oh seriously. Just kill me. All I ever really wanted was for one to return the same feelings I stupidly had for him. Is that such a crime???
I am beginning to hear the "Feeler Feeler Feeler" and other side comments at the end of my laptop. Is that noise I’m hearing right at this moment from you guys? Fine. I deserve that.
Because no matter how I make myself appear kawawa right now, the blame should be put on no one else but me. I mean, what in the world did I ever expect from those stupid aholes (oops sorry)anyway? I was a guinea pig to them. I was so darn naïve.
But I want you to know that I've had enough of my stupidity. HOOOOORAAAAAY. For a change, I don't want to be that person who keeps expecting that in a sea of strangers, somebody would uplift me from the emptiness I feel inside.
I am tired of being the one who keeps chasing.
I DON’T JUST DON’T WANT TO LOOK STUPID ANYMORE, for pete’s sake.
Let me get this straight. Well actually, I can’t get this straight. Because we all at this twisted situation I am trying to make a big deal of are so clueless. Really. I have no idea that they make fun of me. They have no idea that they hurt me. I have no idea that they hurt me. I have no idea. They have no idea. Period. Forget me getting this straight for you. SORRY. :)
I keep avoiding the same mistakes but I guess I never really learn because at the end of the day, I always go for what my heart dictates. Yes, ladies and gents. This is very Jeahan. Because even though a guy would give me the humiliation of the century, I may still go on thinking that he was doing it for my own good or any other reason as stupid as that.
I DON’T THINK CRITICALLY much. I always go for what I only think would make me happy—yes, some things did make me happy, but only for a while. Nothing lasted because I’ve been choosing all the wrong options. That's precisely the reason why I am always surrounded by the temporary happiness that later on unfolds into something scary that can break my heart into a million bits.
So I am afraid. For him. For me. For us.
Funny, by the way, how out of the many guys that I have encountered in my life, he is the hardest to deal with. I swear!!! He is just so hard to understand it makes me cry every time I try figuring out why. Oh shoot I did not just say that. Anyhow, although he has become the hardest to deal with, he probably would be the most unforgettable guy in my life.
I know continuing the friendship that we have started will really make me happy. But as our story progresses, what will happen to us? Will we become something that I have dreamed of all my life, or will we be just friends foreverandeveramen? (Ohgawd. I hate that I can’t predict my own future).
So you see, I want to avoid making more mistakes so I avoid him. I don’t want to put an end to our fairytales-ish story that we started many semesters back.
I’m sorry I couldn’t make him understand. And I’m sorry I have to keep denying my feelings for him. I don’t want him to be like every other guy—that’s how special he is to me. I am trying my best to not keep making the same mistakes for him. I try not to assume anymore. I am saving him but until then I think I’m better off giving him the blank stares whenever we see each other on campus.
P.S.
Yay! Another post! I would like to thank him, those guys who have no idea that they have wronged me, the B*tch ringtone and my stupid fan that is no longer working. I LOVE YOU ALL no matter what happens. Promise.
Haaaaaaaaaa. :)
...........
DUH.
And sometimes you interpret it the way you want because you want the feeling to be mutual.
DUH-rer!!!
But the devastating part is this: what if you’ve been reading between the wrong lines?
DUH-rest!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (sorry for taking advantage of the unlimited use of exclamation points on my keyboard, I just want to make sure that you understand my wrath or fury or whatever)
So tell me, what would you do if you ever found out that he only sees you as a friend?
Ohgoodnessgracious. Killyourself ASFASTASYOUCAN…
…fine I’ll cut the drama. :(
But I'll let you in a little secret: Yes, I like him so much that I’m afraid to get hurt if I find out he’s not interested to have me as nothing more than a friend.
There I said it.
I’ve been making my life miserable for many years now. See, I am an assumer. Yes, haven’t you heard? Assuming is the first step in making a complete fool of yourself.
- In fourth grade, I assumed that ________ liked me when he announced to the whole class that his crush’s name starts with letter J. There were 15 of us whose name start with letter J. 15, mothaheffingsheek.
- Freshman year of high school, I assumed that _________ liked me when I caught him with his friends staring and smiling at me. Only later did I find out that the reason they were staring and smiling at me was because I stained my grey school uniform at the back. They didn’t even tell me, those Jerks.
- Junior year of high school, our Acquaintance Party, and the whole day all I’ve ever really been thinking was that ___________ would finally ask me to dance with him during the Free Dance. I assumed he liked me because he told me I was cute. Later on I found out that he says that to every girl in school (But that wasn’t the most devastating part, I realized, because what really hurts me even until now is that I never really experienced a slow dance in high school).
- Freshman year in college, I assumed that my long-haired classmate in BC11 liked me because he keeps staring at me. I found out I was wrong when one day, I saw him kissing a girl under that stupid tree in front of the soccer field. I never really knew the reason why he kept staring at me during classes. Maybe I was too ugly he just couldn’t stop staring, I don’t know. But anyway, because of that I have learned not to trust a Like signal from a guy’s stare…but that doesn’t really mean that I can’t keep making the stupid mistakes, right?
- Summer before my second year in college, I assumed that a guy liked me because of the long, sweet comments that he’d reply in Friendster. Even my friends thought he was IT. Now, you can only imagine the agony when right before my very eyes, he fell in love with somebody else. Add to that my discovery that he didn’t even type those comments. He made someone else do it. I was fooled when I already am a fool. Sheetofpaper. Can we stop talking about this now?
Oh seriously. Just kill me. All I ever really wanted was for one to return the same feelings I stupidly had for him. Is that such a crime???
I am beginning to hear the "Feeler Feeler Feeler" and other side comments at the end of my laptop. Is that noise I’m hearing right at this moment from you guys? Fine. I deserve that.
Because no matter how I make myself appear kawawa right now, the blame should be put on no one else but me. I mean, what in the world did I ever expect from those stupid aholes (oops sorry)anyway? I was a guinea pig to them. I was so darn naïve.
But I want you to know that I've had enough of my stupidity. HOOOOORAAAAAY. For a change, I don't want to be that person who keeps expecting that in a sea of strangers, somebody would uplift me from the emptiness I feel inside.
I am tired of being the one who keeps chasing.
I DON’T JUST DON’T WANT TO LOOK STUPID ANYMORE, for pete’s sake.
Let me get this straight. Well actually, I can’t get this straight. Because we all at this twisted situation I am trying to make a big deal of are so clueless. Really. I have no idea that they make fun of me. They have no idea that they hurt me. I have no idea that they hurt me. I have no idea. They have no idea. Period. Forget me getting this straight for you. SORRY. :)
I keep avoiding the same mistakes but I guess I never really learn because at the end of the day, I always go for what my heart dictates. Yes, ladies and gents. This is very Jeahan. Because even though a guy would give me the humiliation of the century, I may still go on thinking that he was doing it for my own good or any other reason as stupid as that.
I DON’T THINK CRITICALLY much. I always go for what I only think would make me happy—yes, some things did make me happy, but only for a while. Nothing lasted because I’ve been choosing all the wrong options. That's precisely the reason why I am always surrounded by the temporary happiness that later on unfolds into something scary that can break my heart into a million bits.
So I am afraid. For him. For me. For us.
Funny, by the way, how out of the many guys that I have encountered in my life, he is the hardest to deal with. I swear!!! He is just so hard to understand it makes me cry every time I try figuring out why. Oh shoot I did not just say that. Anyhow, although he has become the hardest to deal with, he probably would be the most unforgettable guy in my life.
I know continuing the friendship that we have started will really make me happy. But as our story progresses, what will happen to us? Will we become something that I have dreamed of all my life, or will we be just friends foreverandeveramen? (Ohgawd. I hate that I can’t predict my own future).
So you see, I want to avoid making more mistakes so I avoid him. I don’t want to put an end to our fairytales-ish story that we started many semesters back.
I’m sorry I couldn’t make him understand. And I’m sorry I have to keep denying my feelings for him. I don’t want him to be like every other guy—that’s how special he is to me. I am trying my best to not keep making the same mistakes for him. I try not to assume anymore. I am saving him but until then I think I’m better off giving him the blank stares whenever we see each other on campus.
P.S.
Yay! Another post! I would like to thank him, those guys who have no idea that they have wronged me, the B*tch ringtone and my stupid fan that is no longer working. I LOVE YOU ALL no matter what happens. Promise.
Haaaaaaaaaa. :)
...........
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Sara, oh Sara. :)
Lyrics | Sara Bareilles lyrics - Fairytale lyrics
I just wrote another item on my Things to Do Before I Die journal:
I must watch Sara Bareilles live and tell her personally about her awesomeness.
Oh my goodness. She makes the most beautiful lyrics (I'm taking back what I said about John Mayer, okay?).
This video I just posted is one of my favorite songs from her. Whenever I listen to the song, I'd imagine myself performing at the Luce Auditorium the way Sara does--you know, with the piano, the smokey eyes, and the jaw-dropping voice.
Now tell me, whyohwhy did I not take my piano lessons seriously?
Now I am finally realizing that those days when my dad would literally drag me to the music school...those days were not just a mere Stage Father phase my dad was going through. Those days have been for my own good all along.
Why does that Epiphany have to take this long to be realized?
........
Monday, October 5, 2009
Oh, Another Love Story
“Hey.” He looked at Jenna like she was the only person in the place. She could no longer hear the splashes of water made by the children at the pool side.
“Hey,” Jenna said back. She tried to keep her cool but her thoughts were blaring. His face was golden at the light of the sun. She couldn’t believe it was really him. Him. The man she waited for years to come back.
Who would have thought that after years of searching, fate would only bring them together to the same vacation spot?
“So,” Jenna could feel her legs shaking. He was still looking at her the same way he did when they were much younger. “How are you?”
“I’m okay,” he answered. His eyes were still glued at her. “You look great.” He smiled. Oh, Jenna swears she could have fainted.
“Thanks…so do you.” Jenna said. They both laughed.
Nothing much has changed, Jenna thought. Nothing much has changed.
………………
This is how Harry met her.
She was a senior in high school. Harry was working as a baggage boy at a big grocery shop in the city. She was a ballerina, a singer, a theater actress, a fashion designer, a cheerleader. Harry’s life had no direction. She was perfect. Harry had absolutely nothing.
It was Christmas time. She went with her grandmother to the city to buy ingredients for the cake she planned on baking in time for the Noche Buena.
The grocery shop was open until midnight for the buyers who were preparing for the season. Harry had to stay overtime because he wanted the bonus. He had nothing to do in his small apartment anyway. He had no friends, no family. He had been celebrating the season alone for two years already.
Harry was in his usual spot at the baggage counter near the entrance of the grocery shop when he noticed a pretty, long-haired girl walking inside. She was wearing a shirt of one of the most prestigious all-girls school in the city. She was heading to the baggage area.
“I’ll leave this bag, if you don’t mind.” She flashed a smile. Her teeth were all straight and perfect.
“Oh, of course.” Harry said. He couldn’t help but smile as well.
They were locked in each other’s stare for a few seconds when an old lady called her name. “Jenna! We have to hurry.”
She turned to look at the old lady. “Alright, grandma. I’m coming.” She looked at Harry one more time, smiled, and left.
………………
“So, what are you doing here?” he asked. “Are you taking a vacation or something?”
“Well actually, yeah.” Jenna said. “I am giving myself two weeks to take a break after the huge wedding I organized.”
“So. You and your dream weddings.”
She laughed. They were seated at a couch inside a gourmet shop now. She looked at him while he sipped his fruit shake.
“What about you? What are you doing here?” Jenna hesitated to ask for a moment but asked anyway. “Who are you with?”
“Well, believe it or not, I’m here for the same reason…I’m taking a vacation by myself while I wait for the judge’s decision on the case I was handling.” His eyes moved as if he wanted to say something more. It’s that look again, Jenna thought. How could she forget? That was the look he had when he left.
“So you made it. You got your dream. You’re a lawyer now.”
“Yeah.” He blushed.
“Well, time really flies by fast, don’t you think? And we both got what we wanted,” Jenna said. She wanted to tell him that more than planning for weddings of famous people, what she really wanted was him. That all throughout her last months in high school, to her college years, up to the time when she started working, all she ever did was wait for him. He said he would come back, but he never showed up.
Time made Jenna stop hoping. Yet it never stopped her from loving him.
………………
The pretty girl started visiting the grocery shop more often since that encounter with Harry. Harry wanted to introduce himself. But he thought, not when he was like that—a dropout who had not enough money and no family.
Harry’s life has not always been like that, however. Harry was the son of one of the most influential families in their province. He was expected to take over his father’s businesses after he graduates. But that wasn’t what Harry wanted; He wanted to be a lawyer.
Harry did not like the pressure. He just graduated from high school and everybody expected him to take Business Management, the same course his father had. But he wanted to take Political Science as his undergraduate course so that he could proceed to law afterwards. When Harry told his father about it one night, his father beat him.
And so without thinking about the consequences he would face, he ran away. Without knowing where to live and what to do in order to survive, Harry went to Manila. He faked his age and ended up as a baggage boy that earns him just enough for food and apartment rent.
Harry was sitting at the ledge outside the grocery building. He satisfied himself with his dinner—dried fish and rice. And then he noticed the pretty girl again. She was approaching him. Oh gosh, she’s is really pretty, Harry thought.
“Hi, I’m Jenna,” she said.
“Hi, I’m Harry.”
And that was the start of their long conversations outside the grocery building when she came after her class and Harry had his break.
………………
The sun was already setting and Jenna was also starting to feel exhaustion. She wanted to go back to her hotel room to rest, but she couldn’t leave just yet. She couldn’t leave without knowing right that moment why he never fulfilled his promise.
“Harry?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve wanted to ask you something.” It was all coming back to Jenna. Images of the two of them that night when he left were flashing right before her.
………………
A lot has happened since the pretty girl introduced herself. They fell in-love, they both took the UPCAT exam, she graduated and they were both accepted to the university of their dreams. She introduced Harry to her parents and they accepted him.
It was their first anniversary. Harry surprised her by taking her to a fancy restaurant. He was proud to say that he saved especially for that surprise. It could have been perfect if not for the other surprise that both caught them off-guard.
It was Harry’s father. He found him and wanted him to come home. Before Harry left, he made the promise. Yet that was the last time she ever saw Harry again.
………………
He looked at her like he already knew what Jenna was about to ask. “I’m sorry I did not fulfill the promise.” His eyes were filled with tears now. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, Jenna. I never meant for this to happen…I never meant to hurt you, or to keep you waiting.”
“I never loved anyone else but you, you know,” Jenna said. She could feel her eyes burning from her tears now. “I never married anyone because I still keep living by the hope that I might still find you someday.”
“I never loved anyone else but you too.” He looked and Jenna’s heart ached.
“But you did not come back for me. You broke your promise. Why?”
………………
Harry left her that night because he was afraid of what his father might do to her. Harry’s father could hurt her, and that was the last thing Harry ever wanted to happen. The thing is, Harry’s father did not want his son to fall in love—not until he gets to be a professional.
Harry’s dream of being a lawyer has finally been accepted by his father. Harry was sent to the United States to finish his undergraduate course and eventually to proceed to law. Harry wanted to come back to her but he was scared that his father might find out. He just did not want her to be hurt by his father.
Harry then vowed that he would study hard to become a real good lawyer—so that he would be deserving enough for her. When Harry graduated, he went back to the Philippines. The first thing he did was look for her.
Harry heard she was a budding wedding planner in the country and that she was engaged to a rich person. He attended one of her events and saw her with another man. Harry saw her 24-carat ring; he was devastated.
………………
“Yes, I was engaged,” Jenna said. “My parents wanted me to marry him. But during our wedding day, all I could ever think about was you. I knew I couldn’t do it. So I said no in front of the priest, in front of our families, in front of everyone I know.”
“I’m sorry I did not approach you that day.”
“That’s okay. Whatever happened during our past does not really matter anymore. What’s important is that you’re here now.”
“Yeah. After many years, we’re here together again.” They both smiled.
And then he hugged Jenna—assuring her that he would no longer leave her, that they would finally be able to continue their unfinished story.
Note: This is the love story of my friend’s uncle and aunt. Their marriage turned ten last October 2nd, 2009.
.........
“Hey,” Jenna said back. She tried to keep her cool but her thoughts were blaring. His face was golden at the light of the sun. She couldn’t believe it was really him. Him. The man she waited for years to come back.
Who would have thought that after years of searching, fate would only bring them together to the same vacation spot?
“So,” Jenna could feel her legs shaking. He was still looking at her the same way he did when they were much younger. “How are you?”
“I’m okay,” he answered. His eyes were still glued at her. “You look great.” He smiled. Oh, Jenna swears she could have fainted.
“Thanks…so do you.” Jenna said. They both laughed.
Nothing much has changed, Jenna thought. Nothing much has changed.
………………
This is how Harry met her.
She was a senior in high school. Harry was working as a baggage boy at a big grocery shop in the city. She was a ballerina, a singer, a theater actress, a fashion designer, a cheerleader. Harry’s life had no direction. She was perfect. Harry had absolutely nothing.
It was Christmas time. She went with her grandmother to the city to buy ingredients for the cake she planned on baking in time for the Noche Buena.
The grocery shop was open until midnight for the buyers who were preparing for the season. Harry had to stay overtime because he wanted the bonus. He had nothing to do in his small apartment anyway. He had no friends, no family. He had been celebrating the season alone for two years already.
Harry was in his usual spot at the baggage counter near the entrance of the grocery shop when he noticed a pretty, long-haired girl walking inside. She was wearing a shirt of one of the most prestigious all-girls school in the city. She was heading to the baggage area.
“I’ll leave this bag, if you don’t mind.” She flashed a smile. Her teeth were all straight and perfect.
“Oh, of course.” Harry said. He couldn’t help but smile as well.
They were locked in each other’s stare for a few seconds when an old lady called her name. “Jenna! We have to hurry.”
She turned to look at the old lady. “Alright, grandma. I’m coming.” She looked at Harry one more time, smiled, and left.
………………
“So, what are you doing here?” he asked. “Are you taking a vacation or something?”
“Well actually, yeah.” Jenna said. “I am giving myself two weeks to take a break after the huge wedding I organized.”
“So. You and your dream weddings.”
She laughed. They were seated at a couch inside a gourmet shop now. She looked at him while he sipped his fruit shake.
“What about you? What are you doing here?” Jenna hesitated to ask for a moment but asked anyway. “Who are you with?”
“Well, believe it or not, I’m here for the same reason…I’m taking a vacation by myself while I wait for the judge’s decision on the case I was handling.” His eyes moved as if he wanted to say something more. It’s that look again, Jenna thought. How could she forget? That was the look he had when he left.
“So you made it. You got your dream. You’re a lawyer now.”
“Yeah.” He blushed.
“Well, time really flies by fast, don’t you think? And we both got what we wanted,” Jenna said. She wanted to tell him that more than planning for weddings of famous people, what she really wanted was him. That all throughout her last months in high school, to her college years, up to the time when she started working, all she ever did was wait for him. He said he would come back, but he never showed up.
Time made Jenna stop hoping. Yet it never stopped her from loving him.
………………
The pretty girl started visiting the grocery shop more often since that encounter with Harry. Harry wanted to introduce himself. But he thought, not when he was like that—a dropout who had not enough money and no family.
Harry’s life has not always been like that, however. Harry was the son of one of the most influential families in their province. He was expected to take over his father’s businesses after he graduates. But that wasn’t what Harry wanted; He wanted to be a lawyer.
Harry did not like the pressure. He just graduated from high school and everybody expected him to take Business Management, the same course his father had. But he wanted to take Political Science as his undergraduate course so that he could proceed to law afterwards. When Harry told his father about it one night, his father beat him.
And so without thinking about the consequences he would face, he ran away. Without knowing where to live and what to do in order to survive, Harry went to Manila. He faked his age and ended up as a baggage boy that earns him just enough for food and apartment rent.
Harry was sitting at the ledge outside the grocery building. He satisfied himself with his dinner—dried fish and rice. And then he noticed the pretty girl again. She was approaching him. Oh gosh, she’s is really pretty, Harry thought.
“Hi, I’m Jenna,” she said.
“Hi, I’m Harry.”
And that was the start of their long conversations outside the grocery building when she came after her class and Harry had his break.
………………
The sun was already setting and Jenna was also starting to feel exhaustion. She wanted to go back to her hotel room to rest, but she couldn’t leave just yet. She couldn’t leave without knowing right that moment why he never fulfilled his promise.
“Harry?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve wanted to ask you something.” It was all coming back to Jenna. Images of the two of them that night when he left were flashing right before her.
………………
A lot has happened since the pretty girl introduced herself. They fell in-love, they both took the UPCAT exam, she graduated and they were both accepted to the university of their dreams. She introduced Harry to her parents and they accepted him.
It was their first anniversary. Harry surprised her by taking her to a fancy restaurant. He was proud to say that he saved especially for that surprise. It could have been perfect if not for the other surprise that both caught them off-guard.
It was Harry’s father. He found him and wanted him to come home. Before Harry left, he made the promise. Yet that was the last time she ever saw Harry again.
………………
He looked at her like he already knew what Jenna was about to ask. “I’m sorry I did not fulfill the promise.” His eyes were filled with tears now. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, Jenna. I never meant for this to happen…I never meant to hurt you, or to keep you waiting.”
“I never loved anyone else but you, you know,” Jenna said. She could feel her eyes burning from her tears now. “I never married anyone because I still keep living by the hope that I might still find you someday.”
“I never loved anyone else but you too.” He looked and Jenna’s heart ached.
“But you did not come back for me. You broke your promise. Why?”
………………
Harry left her that night because he was afraid of what his father might do to her. Harry’s father could hurt her, and that was the last thing Harry ever wanted to happen. The thing is, Harry’s father did not want his son to fall in love—not until he gets to be a professional.
Harry’s dream of being a lawyer has finally been accepted by his father. Harry was sent to the United States to finish his undergraduate course and eventually to proceed to law. Harry wanted to come back to her but he was scared that his father might find out. He just did not want her to be hurt by his father.
Harry then vowed that he would study hard to become a real good lawyer—so that he would be deserving enough for her. When Harry graduated, he went back to the Philippines. The first thing he did was look for her.
Harry heard she was a budding wedding planner in the country and that she was engaged to a rich person. He attended one of her events and saw her with another man. Harry saw her 24-carat ring; he was devastated.
………………
“Yes, I was engaged,” Jenna said. “My parents wanted me to marry him. But during our wedding day, all I could ever think about was you. I knew I couldn’t do it. So I said no in front of the priest, in front of our families, in front of everyone I know.”
“I’m sorry I did not approach you that day.”
“That’s okay. Whatever happened during our past does not really matter anymore. What’s important is that you’re here now.”
“Yeah. After many years, we’re here together again.” They both smiled.
And then he hugged Jenna—assuring her that he would no longer leave her, that they would finally be able to continue their unfinished story.
Note: This is the love story of my friend’s uncle and aunt. Their marriage turned ten last October 2nd, 2009.
.........
Saturday, October 3, 2009
The Ugly Duckling
This is one of the feature articles I passed as requirement for my Com31 subject. :)
Here’s the thing: I undeniably despised myself for being ugly.
It had been years ago but still I cannot try to shun away from the fact that at some point in my life I was this fat, frizzy-haired, glaring red pimple-filled fourteen-year-old.
The thought of it does not mortify me, however, because who I was before marks my realization that hideous ducklings could really turn into beautiful swans. Oh yes, your mother, your grandmother, your aunt or whoever gave you the idea about the Ugly Duckling wasn’t lying. Because tell you what, it did happen to me.
Growing up was hard for me. Although it may seem like I had everything—I was well provided for, I excelled in class and I was loved by my family—I knew that there was just something wrong. I thought something was missing.
It was during my junior prom when I first realized my problem. That was the night when I wore a designer dress for the first time. The stylist put on some make-up the same shade as my dress. He put my mane into a bun, applied hairspray, and then I was all set.
I thought I was in for a fairy tale-like night—one that involved myself being swept away by a prince charming and all the girls sighing in admiration to how stunning I looked—but I was wrong. So, so wrong.
As it turned out, the dress hugged me in all the wrong places, my foundation was just too white for my complexion, and the hairstylist put too much spray that I remember it took me days to completely wash all the chemicals off. It was utterly obvious to the look of all the guys that night that I was nothing compared to my superstar-looking friends. I went home early and cried like there was no tomorrow.
Since that night, I thought: 1.) I can never be at par to all my celebrity friends 2.) I can never be loved by a boy and 3.) I can never have my own Fairy Tale. Because no matter how much I excelled in school, or no matter how much my parents earned from their jobs, if I had I had no pretty face to go with all of it, I was still a nobody.
For years, most of my problems basically included my appearance. I would wear huge shirts and baggy jeans so that all my unwanted body parts could be concealed. My hair was always in a pony tail because it was always frizzy—no, probably bushy. I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror.
But in time, my appearance was changing. My skin started to clear, my hair started to go under my ruling and I started to lose weight. I also found my long-lost fashion sense. Everybody was beginning to notice the changes in me.
One day I looked at myself in the mirror—and I mean really looked at myself—for the first time in many years. I did not recognize the girl looking back at me. She was nothing like the one I hated and hurt many times. At that moment, tears began to flow freely in my face.
My mom was watching me that moment. I turned to look at her and asked the question I’ve been afraid to ask for fear that I would get the answer I never wanted to hear.
“Am I beautiful?” She smiled and gave me the answer that I never expected to come from anyone’s mouth. “Yes you are, honey…you are beautiful.”
And then it hit me. I finally realized what was missing in my life. It wasn’t the lack of a pretty face—it was the lack of my self-esteem.
I no longer compare myself with others. And because of that, boys started to notice me. But that never would have been possible if it wasn’t for the Fairy Tale that I have experienced for myself—the Ugly Duckling’s story—which by the way is a fairy tale that is much better than Cinderella’s or Snow White’s or any other princess’s.
The way I treated myself before was uglier than red zits and thighs that couldn’t fit in any decent jeans. I transformed into a swan not because I lost a few pounds and my hair has turned straight. I became a swan because I started to believe with all my heart that I am beautiful.
And don’t you just think that’s all that really matters?
.........
Here’s the thing: I undeniably despised myself for being ugly.
It had been years ago but still I cannot try to shun away from the fact that at some point in my life I was this fat, frizzy-haired, glaring red pimple-filled fourteen-year-old.
The thought of it does not mortify me, however, because who I was before marks my realization that hideous ducklings could really turn into beautiful swans. Oh yes, your mother, your grandmother, your aunt or whoever gave you the idea about the Ugly Duckling wasn’t lying. Because tell you what, it did happen to me.
Growing up was hard for me. Although it may seem like I had everything—I was well provided for, I excelled in class and I was loved by my family—I knew that there was just something wrong. I thought something was missing.
It was during my junior prom when I first realized my problem. That was the night when I wore a designer dress for the first time. The stylist put on some make-up the same shade as my dress. He put my mane into a bun, applied hairspray, and then I was all set.
I thought I was in for a fairy tale-like night—one that involved myself being swept away by a prince charming and all the girls sighing in admiration to how stunning I looked—but I was wrong. So, so wrong.
As it turned out, the dress hugged me in all the wrong places, my foundation was just too white for my complexion, and the hairstylist put too much spray that I remember it took me days to completely wash all the chemicals off. It was utterly obvious to the look of all the guys that night that I was nothing compared to my superstar-looking friends. I went home early and cried like there was no tomorrow.
Since that night, I thought: 1.) I can never be at par to all my celebrity friends 2.) I can never be loved by a boy and 3.) I can never have my own Fairy Tale. Because no matter how much I excelled in school, or no matter how much my parents earned from their jobs, if I had I had no pretty face to go with all of it, I was still a nobody.
For years, most of my problems basically included my appearance. I would wear huge shirts and baggy jeans so that all my unwanted body parts could be concealed. My hair was always in a pony tail because it was always frizzy—no, probably bushy. I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror.
But in time, my appearance was changing. My skin started to clear, my hair started to go under my ruling and I started to lose weight. I also found my long-lost fashion sense. Everybody was beginning to notice the changes in me.
One day I looked at myself in the mirror—and I mean really looked at myself—for the first time in many years. I did not recognize the girl looking back at me. She was nothing like the one I hated and hurt many times. At that moment, tears began to flow freely in my face.
My mom was watching me that moment. I turned to look at her and asked the question I’ve been afraid to ask for fear that I would get the answer I never wanted to hear.
“Am I beautiful?” She smiled and gave me the answer that I never expected to come from anyone’s mouth. “Yes you are, honey…you are beautiful.”
And then it hit me. I finally realized what was missing in my life. It wasn’t the lack of a pretty face—it was the lack of my self-esteem.
I no longer compare myself with others. And because of that, boys started to notice me. But that never would have been possible if it wasn’t for the Fairy Tale that I have experienced for myself—the Ugly Duckling’s story—which by the way is a fairy tale that is much better than Cinderella’s or Snow White’s or any other princess’s.
The way I treated myself before was uglier than red zits and thighs that couldn’t fit in any decent jeans. I transformed into a swan not because I lost a few pounds and my hair has turned straight. I became a swan because I started to believe with all my heart that I am beautiful.
And don’t you just think that’s all that really matters?
.........
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Confession Number Three
I just turned eighteen a few days ago.
But I don't feel like writing about that just yet.
Actually, I need to study for a lot of things right now.
But whatever. I'm the world's greatest procrastinator anyway.
So yeah. I was just lying on my bed a while ago, when I remembered a conversation:
(A group of friends having Ice Cream together after class)
"Jeahan, what's your dream guy like?"
"Huh?"
"What's your dream guy like?...tell us...we all know you're so good at this."
"Uhh...umm...what? me?" (long pause) "I have no idea." (smiles sheepishly)
"Yeah right. You're not sharing again."
"Really. You guys...why's the spotlight on me again?"
"Tsk. Jeahan."
I may have been imagining to be Cinderella all my life, but I tell you right now that I wasn't lying during that conversation. I may have this dream of meeting Prince Charming someday, but honestly, I have no idea what he's going to be like.
So for the first time ever, I'm going to try to get a glimpse of my future to see what my dream guy is like and type it all down here.
How's that? :)
Alrighty then.
Concentrate.
Concentrate.
Concentrate some more.
There you go.
Oh my God. The most handsome creature ever created.
My Prince Charming. My Dream Dude. The person I have been waiting for my whole life.
I can see him at the other end of the road. I think I'm about to cry.
He calls my name.
and I smile.
because it's really, really him.
so there goes my Prince Charming of the future.
isn't he just amazing?
I am about to become the luckiest girl in the world.
I. Can't. Wait.
:)
..........
But I don't feel like writing about that just yet.
Actually, I need to study for a lot of things right now.
But whatever. I'm the world's greatest procrastinator anyway.
So yeah. I was just lying on my bed a while ago, when I remembered a conversation:
(A group of friends having Ice Cream together after class)
"Jeahan, what's your dream guy like?"
"Huh?"
"What's your dream guy like?...tell us...we all know you're so good at this."
"Uhh...umm...what? me?" (long pause) "I have no idea." (smiles sheepishly)
"Yeah right. You're not sharing again."
"Really. You guys...why's the spotlight on me again?"
"Tsk. Jeahan."
I may have been imagining to be Cinderella all my life, but I tell you right now that I wasn't lying during that conversation. I may have this dream of meeting Prince Charming someday, but honestly, I have no idea what he's going to be like.
So for the first time ever, I'm going to try to get a glimpse of my future to see what my dream guy is like and type it all down here.
How's that? :)
Alrighty then.
Concentrate.
Concentrate.
Concentrate some more.
There you go.
Oh my God. The most handsome creature ever created.
My Prince Charming. My Dream Dude. The person I have been waiting for my whole life.
I can see him at the other end of the road. I think I'm about to cry.
He calls my name.
and I smile.
because it's really, really him.
- he looks at me the way the guy looks at the girl in the movies. the melting stare that expresses a thousand feelings. it's like magic.
- he watches the sunset with me.
- he runs after me when I walk out because of arguments that occur between us.
- he gives me a hug that says,
I'm going to love you forever. That's a promise.
- he holds my hand tightly when he knows there's something wrong and I'm not ready to talk about it just yet.
- he does a Mr. Bean impersonation. makes a complete fool of himself. but he doesn't mind.
- he talks to me about his family.
- and then he listens to me when I talk about my family.
- he is not afraid to show me that adorable boy within him.
- he says all the right things when my day gets tight.
- he is silent when he knows that I am right and he is wrong.
- he changes my life without having to take my naiveness away from me.
- he eats healthy and does not skip meals.
- he knows how to spend his money wisely, not splurging it over useless things.
- he can hang around with CHILDREN all day long!
- he never gets tired of talking to me.
- he notices and appreciates every single thing I do for him.
- he remembers all our moments together.
- he can never stand seeing me suffer.
- he goes to the library not because it's cold there, but because he actually takes time to read some books there.
- he doesn't really care that I don't have Jessica Alba body.
- he cries. and he's not afraid of showing it to me.
- he talks to his friends about how much he sincerely loves me.
- he understands me even during my taray moments.
- he tells me without hesitations what he thinks about the way I act around him and other people.
- he waits for me outside my classroom until my class is over.
- he is such a good friend to everyone.
- he is man enough to say those sweet words each time he gets the chance.
- he slow dances with me even without the music.
- he treats me like the princess I most definitely am not. he makes me feel like I deserve to be treated nicely.
- he loves challenges.
- he understands Cinderella language.
- he shoos away a lizard when I'm already dying by the mere sight of it. he does that even when he's consumed with something like a computer game.
- he stargazes with me.
- he reads and understands the Bible and talks to me about it.
- he knows his purpose in life. he donates the money for his birthday to the poor.
- he helps me face my fears.
- he personal calls me at the dorm and surprises me with a melted choco sundae.
- he lets me talk all day without seeming bored.
- he thinks maturely about his actions.
- he teaches me how to drive and does not spoil a word to my parents.
- he watches chick flicks with me.
- he has completely fulfilled God's promise to me.
- he makes me realize that the very long wait was worth it after all.
- he knows exactly why I am typing down these things. and why I believe in fairy tales.
so there goes my Prince Charming of the future.
isn't he just amazing?
I am about to become the luckiest girl in the world.
I. Can't. Wait.
:)
..........
Friday, July 17, 2009
A not so happy ending
In order to understand each other, the princess and the stranger both knew that they needed to talk. But both were just too scared to say anything. One day, the evil witch took the princess and the stranger lost his only chance. So for the first time, a fairy tale did not have a very happy ending. LET'S CELEBRATE.
.........
.........
Friday, June 5, 2009
Goodbye Summer. Goodbye.
I haven't even been to the beach yet.
I'm so lame.
I know.
Boracay was too much for me last year.
That's why I spent my summer teaching kids.
I love kids. I always have.
So anyway.
I'm leaving tomorrow.
It seems like I have to go over the goodbyes again.
I hate goodbyes. Especially when I have to do it to my own family.
I'm a junior now in a university so far away from home. I've been doing these temporary goodbyes too many times yet I still find it so painful. I knew from the moment I first went to Silliman, my life was going to change. I knew from then on that nobody was going to wake me up in the morning. Nobody's going to prepare my stuff to school. Nobody's going to help me with my homeworks. Nobody's going to run after me when I forget something. I knew that my life really was up to me. But what's really painful is that I also knew that I was never going to live with the people who have helped me survive life all these years ever again. After I graduate, I will have to move out and make a life of my own.
But being alone is not the perfect way to describe my fear. I actually kind of love being independent. It is one of the things that convinced me to coming to a university so far away. I was always protected and my life was so predictable and I felt like liberty was the only way I could do something I haven't done before. Sure, sometimes I'd break down and go: "I never thought it would be this hard. I never thought that I'd necessarily have to make tough decisions or I'd have to face constant challenges that seems impossible to deal with." But I have learned to live with that. And I am proud to say that I have faced many things on my own. I'm no longer such a little girl, for crying out loud.
What really, really scares me is that I have to grow and experience my new life without them seeing me go through it.
But what's really weird is that they don't know this. I don't have the guts to tell them how I'm feeling right now. Tomorrow, I'll leave and my sister, my dad and especially my mom would probably cry out loud, and I'd just stare at them, holding back my tears. No tears please, not in front of them, at least.
I'm not a very showy person when it comes to my feelings. It's always been an issue. I may be close to my family, but I don't share with them my deepest secrets. That's why I don't hate them for all those attempts of reading my journal. They just want to know. But I can't let them know. It's just too hard. In fact, it's too hard to talk about my feelings with anyone at all. I sometimes can't stand the idea that people know too much about me. I don't want to be selfish. I'm just afraid of what people might think. I just don't want to be judged. I hate being criticized.
That's also why it took so long for me to have a blog. This is like so public, but heck, I'm typing here anyways because I need to change myself. This is the first step towards disposing little miss secretive Jeahan.
Maybe that's even one of the reasons why He hasn't let me find Prince Charming yet. I have too much to change about myself still. I need to start opening up, and not keep these feelings to myself. I need to be ready. I need to be matured enough to handle a relationship.
So anyway. It's another school year. I have no idea what's in store for me. I'm almost turning eighteen. More problems. More fun.
Maybe I'll meet him this year. What do you think? You think I'll be ready enough to meet him?
:)
Au Revoir, Summer. I'm going to miss you.
..............
Monday, June 1, 2009
Confession Number Two
Actually, this is kind of like a continuation to the first confession.
As I was browsing through the posts on my Facebook account, I happen to see the latest pictures of him with her. And after all those things he said to me, after all those wishes and hopes and prayers, after all those journal pages, it all comes down to this.
And when I look at the smile on that other girl's face, I can't help but become bitter.
When bad things happen to us, we need to point our fingers on someone to make us feel better, at least for a while. It's like human nature or something.
So, here I go saying, I envy girls who receive flowers. I envy girls who receive text messages from the guy they like. I envy girls who aren't stupidly shy to hang around with the opposite sex. I envy girls who experience holding hands and late night phone calls and star-gazing and moonlight dancing and hugs. I envy girls who don't need to bring their heavy bags or pick up the piece of paper that they drop on the floor--the Prince Charmings can do those things for them, obviously. I envy girls who get the seriousness from guys. I envy girls who take no effort to attract somebody because every person seems to be attracted to them anyway. I envy girls who know the right things to say for a guy to call them the one. I envy those girls--yes, those girls who get a lot of fishes in the sea. And sometimes, I hate them. For taking all the fishes and leaving me with none. And so I starve. As for them, they eat those fishes. And they're not even finish with one, they throw it away already, and start eating another. They don't realize how lucky they are that they are not one of those unfortunate few who starve. Who crave for a fish for her own. They don't realize that because they are so much blessed with plenty.
Often times I feel like waiting in a room together with millions of other girls. We wait for our names to be called. We anticipate for it. Because we know that once we are called, a beautiful love life is about to start for us. And every single day that passes by, two or three girls get called. And still I sit there. My butt aches from too much sitting. But I can't stand up because I know that if I do, I might lose my chance to be called. It was the rule, see. We can choose to stand from our chairs and continue on with our lives, or we can choose to sit there and just wait for our names to be called. In my life, I chose to sit. I know I was better off doing other things while I wait--sky dive, impress a professor, be a beauty queen...anything. See, it does not exactly guarantee that once you leave that room, you'll never get called. But I still I refuse. I can't take chances. I can't leave. I must be ready, when I get called. I can't distract myself. I need to focus on this. I. need. to. be. inside. that. room.
My anticipation to be called has so taken over me.
I may sound so irrational, but you would understand if you know how much I want this. Being called is the one thing I want most to happen in my life. More than anything else, I want to hear my name and enter romance land. This is just how bad I want this. Yes, it hurts. My butt hurts. I am bored. Add to that the excruciating feeling you get when another name gets called and not yours. And every day you see more and more empty chairs and you're still there. It just cuts you into a million pieces.
But if that's really what it takes to find love, then fine with me.
...............
As I was browsing through the posts on my Facebook account, I happen to see the latest pictures of him with her. And after all those things he said to me, after all those wishes and hopes and prayers, after all those journal pages, it all comes down to this.
And when I look at the smile on that other girl's face, I can't help but become bitter.
When bad things happen to us, we need to point our fingers on someone to make us feel better, at least for a while. It's like human nature or something.
So, here I go saying, I envy girls who receive flowers. I envy girls who receive text messages from the guy they like. I envy girls who aren't stupidly shy to hang around with the opposite sex. I envy girls who experience holding hands and late night phone calls and star-gazing and moonlight dancing and hugs. I envy girls who don't need to bring their heavy bags or pick up the piece of paper that they drop on the floor--the Prince Charmings can do those things for them, obviously. I envy girls who get the seriousness from guys. I envy girls who take no effort to attract somebody because every person seems to be attracted to them anyway. I envy girls who know the right things to say for a guy to call them the one. I envy those girls--yes, those girls who get a lot of fishes in the sea. And sometimes, I hate them. For taking all the fishes and leaving me with none. And so I starve. As for them, they eat those fishes. And they're not even finish with one, they throw it away already, and start eating another. They don't realize how lucky they are that they are not one of those unfortunate few who starve. Who crave for a fish for her own. They don't realize that because they are so much blessed with plenty.
Often times I feel like waiting in a room together with millions of other girls. We wait for our names to be called. We anticipate for it. Because we know that once we are called, a beautiful love life is about to start for us. And every single day that passes by, two or three girls get called. And still I sit there. My butt aches from too much sitting. But I can't stand up because I know that if I do, I might lose my chance to be called. It was the rule, see. We can choose to stand from our chairs and continue on with our lives, or we can choose to sit there and just wait for our names to be called. In my life, I chose to sit. I know I was better off doing other things while I wait--sky dive, impress a professor, be a beauty queen...anything. See, it does not exactly guarantee that once you leave that room, you'll never get called. But I still I refuse. I can't take chances. I can't leave. I must be ready, when I get called. I can't distract myself. I need to focus on this. I. need. to. be. inside. that. room.
My anticipation to be called has so taken over me.
I may sound so irrational, but you would understand if you know how much I want this. Being called is the one thing I want most to happen in my life. More than anything else, I want to hear my name and enter romance land. This is just how bad I want this. Yes, it hurts. My butt hurts. I am bored. Add to that the excruciating feeling you get when another name gets called and not yours. And every day you see more and more empty chairs and you're still there. It just cuts you into a million pieces.
But if that's really what it takes to find love, then fine with me.
...............
Friday, May 29, 2009
Confession Number One
So tell me.
What's it really like to fall in love?
I've heard too many tales from other people, but it still leaves me much too clueless. It isn't any wonder for me though: how should I know the feeling, when for seventeen years, love has never--not even close--come my path. They say love is an unexplainable feeling that you will never really understand, not until you have experienced it for yourself. Yes, I have missed out on hugs and roses and chocolates and sweet letters. I have missed out on gushing and blushing and serenades. I have missed out on the most beautiful thing this life has to offer--what I have always wanted (than I may never have)--the very thing that keeps people moving and makes life itself worthwhile. I have missed out on love.
I was never able to smile with flying hearts on my background. And I tell you, it's not easy. I am the person you see walking next to a couple who are holding their hands together. I am the person who goes inside a flower shop, looks at the beautiful roses and wonders just when I'd be able to get one. I am the person you happen to pass through the benches--the person who just sits, arms crossed, and stares at the laughing boy and girl at the bench just across. I am the person who secretly cries inside the shower room, wondering if there's really somebody saved especially to lift up the loneliness and emptiness I feel inside. I cry because I believe only Prince Charming can rescue me from this, yet he is so taking his time, I guess, that sometimes it's almost impossible to believe that he's ever coming at all.
And so, who is Prince Charming?
That is the big mystery.
It's like a quest to finding out who the real villain is in a movie--but here, the villain was never found, and the movie ended with the main character committing suicide.
Sad, sad ending.
People watching at the movie house threw popcorns everywhere.
Because sad ending = bad movie.
They all agree.
Definitely.
But of course, things can still change. My life hasn't ended yet, riiiight? I don't want people to watch the full-length movie of my life and throw popcorns afterwards, demanding to get a refund. No.
So anyways, let's go back to this huge mystery called The Search for the Unknown Prince Charming. It started from way back when I thought it was Andy*, but everything didn't work out. From my freshman year up until my junior year in high school, I thought it was Keith*. In my senior year, I thought it was Gabriel*. Last, last year, I thought it was Peter*. Last year, I thought it was Ted*. Last month, I thought it was Harry*. Last week, I thought it was David*. Yesterday I thought it was Bob*.
From too much assuming, I get hurt. I get hurt because these guys reject me. They don't see my importance. They keep passing me by for another girl. I can't tell you how much it hurts me whenever I guy shoves it right through my face that he has chosen some better girl over me. Only a few get rejected by love in this lifetime. Pity me because I am one of those unfortunate ones.
The situation is really unfair no matter how I put it. Sometimes I end up looking at the mirror, screaming at the top of my lungs:
WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME???
what?
Negative adjectives I associate with myself ends me with this conclusion sometimes:
Without meaning to, sometimes you just do figure out that maybe life is always going to be in favor of the other side when you see how some girls can just draw guys near them without taking much effort--sometimes, no effort at all. And when you think about the years you've spent just to taste a piece of one sweet love, you can't help but wonder why you weren't born like those other girls who get plenty of fishes in the sea.
Why do I have to be the loser who gets left no fish at all?
*Names have been changed just because. :)
............
What's it really like to fall in love?
I've heard too many tales from other people, but it still leaves me much too clueless. It isn't any wonder for me though: how should I know the feeling, when for seventeen years, love has never--not even close--come my path. They say love is an unexplainable feeling that you will never really understand, not until you have experienced it for yourself. Yes, I have missed out on hugs and roses and chocolates and sweet letters. I have missed out on gushing and blushing and serenades. I have missed out on the most beautiful thing this life has to offer--what I have always wanted (than I may never have)--the very thing that keeps people moving and makes life itself worthwhile. I have missed out on love.
I was never able to smile with flying hearts on my background. And I tell you, it's not easy. I am the person you see walking next to a couple who are holding their hands together. I am the person who goes inside a flower shop, looks at the beautiful roses and wonders just when I'd be able to get one. I am the person you happen to pass through the benches--the person who just sits, arms crossed, and stares at the laughing boy and girl at the bench just across. I am the person who secretly cries inside the shower room, wondering if there's really somebody saved especially to lift up the loneliness and emptiness I feel inside. I cry because I believe only Prince Charming can rescue me from this, yet he is so taking his time, I guess, that sometimes it's almost impossible to believe that he's ever coming at all.
And so, who is Prince Charming?
That is the big mystery.
It's like a quest to finding out who the real villain is in a movie--but here, the villain was never found, and the movie ended with the main character committing suicide.
Sad, sad ending.
People watching at the movie house threw popcorns everywhere.
Because sad ending = bad movie.
They all agree.
Definitely.
But of course, things can still change. My life hasn't ended yet, riiiight? I don't want people to watch the full-length movie of my life and throw popcorns afterwards, demanding to get a refund. No.
So anyways, let's go back to this huge mystery called The Search for the Unknown Prince Charming. It started from way back when I thought it was Andy*, but everything didn't work out. From my freshman year up until my junior year in high school, I thought it was Keith*. In my senior year, I thought it was Gabriel*. Last, last year, I thought it was Peter*. Last year, I thought it was Ted*. Last month, I thought it was Harry*. Last week, I thought it was David*. Yesterday I thought it was Bob*.
From too much assuming, I get hurt. I get hurt because these guys reject me. They don't see my importance. They keep passing me by for another girl. I can't tell you how much it hurts me whenever I guy shoves it right through my face that he has chosen some better girl over me. Only a few get rejected by love in this lifetime. Pity me because I am one of those unfortunate ones.
The situation is really unfair no matter how I put it. Sometimes I end up looking at the mirror, screaming at the top of my lungs:
WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME???
- am I:
- unapproachable?
- intimidating?
- too busy?
- weird?
what?
Negative adjectives I associate with myself ends me with this conclusion sometimes:
Maybe it's just time to face the fact that no matter what I do, I can never be as pretty, or as funny, or as smart, or as talented, or as awesome as those girls with perfect smiles and perfect hair and excruciatingly perfect lives.
Without meaning to, sometimes you just do figure out that maybe life is always going to be in favor of the other side when you see how some girls can just draw guys near them without taking much effort--sometimes, no effort at all. And when you think about the years you've spent just to taste a piece of one sweet love, you can't help but wonder why you weren't born like those other girls who get plenty of fishes in the sea.
Why do I have to be the loser who gets left no fish at all?
*Names have been changed just because. :)
............
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Ten random things from Facebook.
10
Things you wish you could say to 10 different people right now (don’t tell us who).- I used to believe that you were different from them, that you really cared, and that you’re just that person I’ve been dying to meet my whole life. I wanted you to like me, so everything you said appeared more than just friendship. But now I realize how stupid I was to believe those things—just because you were the first person who gave me the seriousness I pretty much needed. Everything did start and end that summer, didn’t it? Well, I hope you’re happy now.
- It hurts that even the simplest of things--like my globe sim card--you can’t give just because you “think” I’d rather put my attention on other people than you. It’s not true; As a matter of fact, I have a loser text social life. It hurts because you don’t trust me. I understand that you’re just trying to protect me, but I think it’s time for me to grow up and face things on my own.
- One moment you were just crying out “Memmmmmmy!!!” because I cut your hair (not that you have any) with a pair of brand new scissors, and the next thing I know, you’re also packing your bags, off to a new place with me. It’s the two of us again. Only, you’re a little bit taller than me this time. ;)
- I don’t understand why they keeping pushing me to you. I can’t imagine us being together. To me, you’re a friend I love hating (you know what I mean…), and I want it to stay that way forever.
- I don’t even know how to explain myself for all the lies I have told you. I just wanted to be accepted. I know our friendship will never be the same again, but I’m still hoping that you could at least forgive me.
- I’m glad fate finally gave me the chance to be your friend. I hope I get to know you more, because you’re a very interesting person. ;) I still cringe whenever I think about the fact that you remember what I consider one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. Haha. Oh yeah, I was serious when I said you’re invited to my party.
- Please don’t fail me. Please don’t fail me. Please don’t fail me.
- I’m kinda worried because since the summer started, I’ve been missing out on that wowowee dancer wannabe who’d pull off my hair and strangle me as Papa *toot* passes by. It’s weird seeing someone flickering out a fuchsia-pink-and-neon-green-combination sort of outfit, and not to mention that tuk tuk tuk of a heels, but I’d have to say, they’re exactly what makes you stand out, and I’m really gonna miss that if I don’t see that when I get back.
- I am so going to miss you if you leave us. I’ve had enough people leaving me, please don’t do what the rest of them did.
- I don’t know when, I don’t know where. But I’ll be seeing you. <3
9
Things about yourself.- I am completely appalled by brutal death. I hate
chainsaws.And blood is the reason why I can never take a medical course. But I do love, love the movie Final Destination. Haha. - On random days, I’d pose and project in front of the mirror, imagining that I am Tyra Banks.
- I am black and white. Happy and sad. Cold and warm. Love and hate. Complicated and simple.
- I decide to do one thing, jump without thinking twice, panic halfway towards the pit, then end up in the dumpsters.
- When I get a teenybopper crush on somebody, I dedicate half a journal writing uncanny nonsense about that person.
- I have lost enough g-techs to last me a lifetime.
- Sometimes when I feel like my life is a mess, I look at pictures of the people in my life and instantly feel so much better.
- By far, the wisest decision I have made in my life is my college course. I mean, I don’t exactly have such flying colors here, but at least I’m happy, right?
- Again and again, I’ll repeat this one: I am the girl who is yet to realize that she shouldn’t settle for anybody less than the man she has always dreamed of.
But it’s just mostly complicated.
8
Ways to win my heart.- An unforgettable first kiss on top of the Eiffel Tower. Background fireworks, not optional, but required.
- Stargazing at an eerie cemetery. Bring your own telescope, okay? ;) then let me view a star, and say, “That star has been named after you.” Of course you must show me a document from NASA as proof.
- An adorable children’s choir singing a lovely song you have written especially for me. And you get to have a solo part of the song, obviously.
- Sunset strolling while eating nachos, then the villains appear out of nowhere. You stare then start performing your wicked ninja skills on them. Crool! :)
- Do some crazy monkey bars stunts on a Ferris Wheel then threaten me that you’ll let go of your grip if I won’t go out with you.*wink*
- Say James Marsden’s lines on the movie 27 Dresses. You know…the I-think-you-deserve-to-be-taken-care-of-for-a-change line ba.
- One of these days, I really hope to see a guy wearing a purple shirt with the print I’M IN LOVE WITH A PURPAHOLIC on it.
- Well, okay, I shipped that cheesy movies-loving, hearts-doodling, damsel in distress wannabe who wrote the first seven items, off to Vanuatu. This is another Jeahan speaking, and if you ask me, I really don’t care what you do to win my heart. You can give a girl all the sweet things in the world, give so much effort to make scenes from a romantic flick happen, but at the end of the day, it’s still never enough. What a girl really needs is sincere and unconditional love, love—something that should remind her why she waited for you for a lifetime—and everything else just follows after that.
This is what I want: a gift from above kind of Love, and maybe some free math lessons. :)
7
Thoughts that cross your mind a lot through the day.- John Mayer makes the most beautiful lyrics ever.
- How come there are no branches of Krispy Kremes here in Cebu?
- Gawd, it’s so hot. And I keep drinking coffee.
- I hate Miley Cyrus. Friggin Hannah Montana movie.
- Smile. Smile some more.
- Oh men. Please don’t let Adam Lambert win American Idol. I’d die.
- Fudge Sun Cellular.
6
Things you want to do/happen before you die.(I own a whole notebook that sorely exists to record things that fall under this title; I chose my top 6, in random order)
- Graduate. Go back to Manila. Get a job. Support my baby sister to college. Make my parents retire. Travel around the globe just like my tita.
- Attend all my preschool, grade school, high school and college reunions.
- Economic stability of the country, to assure myself that everything will be fine for all the people that I would have to leave behind someday. And not just for all the people I know, for that matter. I really want a better Philippines for all the Filipinos. Really.
- Do something outrageous like skydiving or water rafting. Or just simply, umm, standing up for myself.
- Publish a novel and be discovered by Oprah Winfrey.
- Meet the dude. Marry him. Have my twins. Live in a really homey home. Send my kids to a really nice school. Make lunch for them. Remind them that I love them more than I ever did with anybody else. Share my stories with them.
And I really hope my future husband will still be around to hold my hand during the last few moments of my life.
5
Turnoffs- Like what I keep reminding all of them.
It’s the government’s warning:
Cigarette-smoking is dangerous to your health.
I dunno. It’s not like they still need a translator to grasp that, right? - People who do not respect the word purity.
- War freaks and adik na tambays who don’t see themselves anywhere 10-20 years from now.
- Boys who take girls for granted—hands down.
- Self-obsessed ones who do nothing but look at themselves in the mirror. Like duhrr, what the heck.
4
Turn ons- Sensible humor.
- Best in Math and English. :)
- Guitar-playing music genius who uses his talent for God.
- Dreamy eyes, strong hands and a quirky grin. Haay.
3
Smiles that describe my life.- Simple things like ice cream, sunsets, braces-wearing children, the rain, butterflies, clouds, stars, white chocolates, bunnies and hugs.
- People I love.
- GOD. <3
2
Things you wish you never did.- Not being Cum Laude material in college.
- Assumed and chased love when it’s not yet time. (this I still usually do)
1
Confession- I’m not as vulnerable as you think I am.
Let’s get it on. I am so ready to fight.
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