It's been a year

dear you, it’s been a year since your life fell apart. 

you fought really hard, you cried, you tried to face it alone but you still talked about it, you wrote everything down, you prayed, you screamed, you kept quiet, you took care of yourself, you tried to love yourself, you did things on your own, and you keep showing up—even when it’s terribly killing you. 

you keep saying you’re ok, but when life gets even more difficult—  you still crumble and can’t find any reasons as to why you have to live. 

but it’s alright, you kept going, you kept fighting. 

but it’s sad to realize that you haven’t truly healed - you just kept yourself busy doing all those things people tell you to do. Still, you’re grateful to those people who were patient enough to stay, even if you think you don’t deserve it.

…for the year that has forced me to give up on my dreams and everything that I know to be true- I cant be grateful for that yet, but I hope to get there someday. that place where people kept saying “you know you’ll just laugh about this someday” I can’t wait to be there. but for now, I’m nowhere near that place and it’s ok

What now?

Sometimes, we find ourselves in rare moments where gratitude and remorse intertwine, leaving us uncertain about which emotion should prevail.

Just within three years, I lost 2 of the most important people in my life for which I will both grieve for the rest of my life. Who would have thought I’d find myself here, alone with a cat that sheds a gazillion hairs? I’m slowly learning that healing is not linear; it comes in various forms and intensities. Sometimes, it surprises you by revealing that you need to start over, while at other times, you feel numb—an experience I wish I had encountered sooner.

Right now, I long for my emotions to quiet down, to take a break from feeling, even wishing I could become just a lifeless being, devoid of pain. It’s ironic that the person you expect to protect you can also be the one to throw you recklessly into the wild, leaving you vulnerable. And once you're vulnerable enough, they'll shatter you more.

I wish the world would pause, if only for a moment, so that others could see how much I’m hurting. For what reason? I really don't know. Perhaps I think it might help me heal. I’ve explored various paths to recovery, diligently following each one, yet I still struggle to find meaning in it all.

Maybe—just maybe—there’s a solution I haven’t yet discovered. Perhaps my nervous system will eventually untangle itself from the past more swiftly than I anticipate. I dream of fast-forwarding to a time when the pain is no longer here. It’s something I wished for when I was 15, but that feels like such a waste now, doesn’t it?

Am I just a waste?

Why didn’t I recognize this sooner? Why didn’t I prevent it from happening? I understand, of course, that not everything is within our control.

But for all its worth, I knew this outcome was a possibility; I just didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

Letters to Dad

 04.20.2022

Hi Dad,

I must admit, I'm still having a difficult time since you passed away. Even if I think I should be ok by now.

It's been 2 months, yet it just feels like yesterday, still.

I remember you every now and then and I'm not really sure why I want to write this, but I do. I want to be able to tell someone -- something -- all my thoughts about you. 

I know you're obsessed with technology, I remember secretly tinkering with your amazing PC when I was 13. I used to open your PC when you're at work because I didn't have my own computer.

But you did give me your old laptop. It was broken so I only get to use it when it's plugged and if it's not having any of its slow and bad days when it would just suddenly turn to its favorite blue screen.

I was amazed with your PC because it has everything -- fast processor with internet and with really cool speakers. Yes, blasting the volume of computer speakers used to be a big deal. I get to secretly log on to my Facebook account using your PC.. 

One night, and I'm not really sure how you found out, but you did find out that I was using your PC. In a split second, I felt a strong fist coming at me right in between my eyes. I was already wearing eyeglasses that time so.. I had to buy new ones. I remember just crying and getting mad at you. You did apologize.. after a day, I think. 

I only have limited memories of you because you were very distant.

You didn't even try.

And I know there's always that something that I have to figure out on my own someday. 

But, anyway. I remembered you today because Jollibee now has a robot server called Jollibots. Same as Dunkin'. I wonder if I will ever witness a future where every restaurant would have those things.

I'm sad you didn't get to see and experience these things now. I know you would've been so happy to see such technology.

I wish we had spent more time talking about computers.

I wish you had let me tinker with your computer more ;) perhaps I wouldn't be doing what I'm doing now.

Anyway. I hope you are having a good time wherever you are.

I hope they let you use their computers.