Last Tuesday..

We are at the prime of our adolescence - where the future gleams brightly, the opportunities are ripe, and feelings are waiting to be explored. We are both at the threshold of being teenagers and adults. Everything that lies ahead of us is promising, yet very much unclear. I love him; he loves me and I'll have his hand to hold on to whatever the tides of tomorrow may bring -that much is certain.

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Last Tuesday...

I waited for 3 long hours for my date. The excitement in my stomach curdled into sour disappointment. At 8 in the evening, I was fetched by Tita Lydia telling me Gerard had to rush for the reservation of the venue. This got me pretty agitated coupled by the fact that I received no text message from him since lunch. My patience wore thin, I'll admit it. I didn't want to ruin the night so I kept my mouth shut until I was 100% recovered from my temper tantrums. But even in the brink of anger, I found myself amazed by the romantic ambiance by the time we got to the place. Then, he came by- no flowers, chocolates or teddy bear at hand. Just him. Wearing his red shirt accentuated by his black vest, he broke necks as he passed by. He drew close to me and whispered "I love you". Beyond him, the rest of the world seemed out of focus and in the waning light, I heard my own words . . "I do, too".

Last Tuesday...

We had a romantic dinner by the sea. I caught the scent of his perfume, jasmine and roses and even sweeter things I couldn't name. Paseo del Mar gleamed beautifully in the distance. That exact moment, time stood still. The other people outside stopped moving; all noise ceased; the wind dropped. It was plain romantic.

Last Tuesday...

I stood dumbstruck right in the middle of Lantaka as I moved toward the wooden cottage. My heart kicked to a fourth gear as my own eyes flew open and took a glimpse of this. . .

This caught me off guard; It was quite a scene to behold. The enormous heart was filled with little balloons, each one containing words of love. Every word sank slowly down my brain, one by one as I read them. I was scrambling for coherency while his gaze unintentionally scattered my thoughts. As my hand hovered around the paper, I could not seem to find appropriate words. I wanted to shout how much lucky I felt and how much I love the man whose arms were wrapped around me that instant. But the words seemed to lodge in my throat. All I was able to manage was an "I love you, boo".

Above us, the stars were out in full. Yet however amazing the stars were, he was twice as brilliant. That exact moment, I was deeply enthralled by his charm. He gave me a hug that just about squeezed my eyes out of their sockets. No thousand words could equal what I felt that exact moment when he held me close in his arms. We stared at each other's eyes in deep adoration. With his fingers locked around mine, he leaned in and as his lips touched mine, I knew that I would always remember this year's Valentine's Day.

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I wish I could freeze this moment right here, right now, and live in it forever.

I can still recall how I was bullied and laughed at during my childhood years in vivid detail. Yet in the wake of those memories, I've come to realize how much I've grown into a stronger person because of the past. Today, as I walk passed my bullies, I kept on fighting the urge to scream "No debt in the universe goes unpaid..Look at me now!" :))

Futures and feelings always remain uncertain, but at least there are people to make you feel less alone, less scared........

Something certain, however, is the fact that I have someone with me whom I can build my hopes for tomorrow and unravel the mystification of my fate with. For all the worries I have about the future, at least for now, this is something permanent I can hold on to.

The first month of the year turned out to be beyond my expectation. I couldn't put a finger to the right words to explain how much loved he made me feel.

It's the quiet constant that's been keeping me together lately. Admittedly though, it makes me think a lot about the next few years or so, especially after all the weddings I've been to. Not that I'm imagining my gown and arranging the flowers in my head already - goodness, no. It does however beg the question of longevity and devotion. We've managed to reach this point mostly unscathed, but how long can we keep this up, considering the many changes that are just about to come? How stable is this anchor we're holding on to?

Twenty years, five years, or even maybe just a year from now, I might look back on this post and scoff at the triviality of these things I am now considering important. Perhaps they will not even change the course of my history as much as I believe they would. And maybe I'm just over-thinking things. But until everything is calm, and until things have fallen into place, these feelings will be pervading my thoughts, distracting me all day and keeping me up all night, forcing me to blog about them in the hopes of lulling myself to sleep.

5 years, 9 months and counting.

You know where this is going. . .

...

Happy Monthsary, G!

And, uhm, yeah, I may have said this over and over for 69 long months now but I will never, in my entire life, grow tired of saying this to you.

I LOVE YOU!

laid-back

No duty for 3 days, which means for the first time this year, I once again get a much-needed break. Allow me to stretch my arms and yawn and relish in the moment of still being in bed at this time of day - aaaaaaaaaaahhh. There.

I'm so exhausted, really. I'm tired from all the studying I have to do, which really takes a toll on me physically and mentally and emotionally. But then, that's something I have to do as a part of my course. It's a given, so I suppose it's a kind of pain I've gotten used to. What I'm more concerned about is the feeling that this weariness is trickling down on everything else, leaving me discontented and miserable even in the littlest of things. It's a vicious cycle of feeling bad and getting tired.

Nonetheless, I am lucky to have someone who's more than willing to free me from the seemingly unending stress. That person is what keeps me together and yesterday, I found that perfect moment to just break-free from anything that has to do with acads

All will be well soon. Oh look, sleep is still beckoning. I cannot refuse.

A taste of reality

I'm turning 19 in a few days. I believe I'm at this point in my life where I'm desperately seeking for confirmation on everything -- I need the definitions. I need the answers. Am I doing it right? Have I done something worth remembering? Where am I going? All these things constantly linger in my thoughts. It's a never-ending cycle of trying to be someone we want to be. We want to define ourselves because it will give us some sort of stable ground as we play the role of being this self everyday. No matter how rebellious we claim ourselves to be, having these lines drawn for us help us establish the sense of identity because around these lines, we can create what we are or are not. Without them, where do we even start?

I've been having doubts about myself for the last few days or so because 19 sounds so old -- it's my last teen year! It's like by this time I should have at least found the answers to most of my questions. Unfortunately, I haven't. And I'm freaking out because maybe I don't deserve to be 19 just yet. (And not just because I am constantly mistaken as a 14-year-old girl.) I haven't evolved enough to be 19 yet. I'm not even sure if I know what being 18 is -- having a boyfriend? Getting to vote at the elections? Learning how to handle alcohol? Having a driver's license? Staying up late? It is hard to define.

So what is 19 anyway? How can I be 19? Where does 19 happen? When does it happen?

I, honestly, don't know. And I'll probably never know (yet) .Right now, just one thing is for sure. The answer toWhen, happens next Monday. Whether I'm ready or not, it's going to be there. So maybe I'll just let the year unfold before me as it defines itself. Maybe I'll find it at home, or in my bed, or in the classroom, or in the car. Maybe I won't. Maybe 19 is about the questions, the search.

Maybe 19 is about the maybes. Let's see.

Of nostalgic mem'ries and poetic license.

They say most people today are always a half, a quarter, a part-something. Half-American. Half-Chinese. One-fourth Norwegian. Fifty percent blue-eyed. Twenty percent with hitchhiker's thumb; recessive gene. You get the idea. My parents are full-blooded Filipino, I was born and raised in this city and I have no significant clarifications regarding the pronunciation of my surname. I have always been a 100% something for most of the things in my life, and I had no intention of having it otherwise - OR SO I THOUGHT.

Looking back, I think I have spent almost half of my stay in WMSU with my heart leaning a little bit towards another college in particular, in that one university that set standards to all the rest. Not that I have ever considered shifting (or transfering)- God, no. I came to love my course and my department . Yet in the midst of it all, I come to realize, if only I could have had more guts, I would have taken that single step that would have changed the entire course of my college life. But no, I'm building the foundation of my future with grounds held tight on the Nursing Profession. I thought I wouldn't accept this fact. But now, I do. I love Nursing. I really do.

But I love CREATIVE WRITING even more, and quite honestly, it has been my first choice. .. Right from the very start.

I can verily recall the days spent in UP. It has been 3 years, yet the bittersweet memory still clings. And every time I see the Oblation statue brimming with passion and determination, I am reminded by what used to be my only goal, my target, my purpose, my calling. . that one dream I desired the most. . . Now it's lost. Taken away. Gone forever.

So tenderly, calling to me

The land of my heart's desire

Oh, how I sigh that I've lost thee

My passion as intense as fire

How my thoughts will stray

with every beat of my heart

Take me away. . .

To the path that I long from the start