Dearest Friend,

I choose to not say your name so as to protect your privacy and I choose to speak in a language only you and I could understand. First off, I vaguely recall that you had your own pen and paper. Not only til I read your comment that I realized that you actually finished making it. Let me start by saying I'm proud of you. Secondly, I'm very intrigued by what all that Japanese language means. I've taken Karate but that's all the Japanese words I know. Did you know that I even downloaded an English-Japanese translator from the internet just to decode your Japanese professions of love? However, it proved to be unsuccessful. In other words, PALPAK YUNG PROGRAM. Despite all this, I'm happy to see you sticking it out with him. Again, I'm proud of you. Thirdly, I've deciphered, as you've tried to infer, the meanings and effects of the whirlwinds taking over your life. I just wanted to say this: KEEP THE FAITH. I think we didn't watch that movie for no reason. Maybe its effects are coming back to us now after how many years. We all crumble down, Mayor Sam. We've more or less been where you are now. Especially me and I know you know that. I guess all I wanted to say was... NEVER GIVE UP. Like Og Mandino wrote, never never never never never never give up. You, among all people, should know that. Again, if I've not stressed it enough, no matter what happens, I'm proud of you because you've always had your principles and actions in perspective. You've always fought for the things that most people try to include in their lives -- love, family, trust, faith. If I could give you a hug now, I would because I never knew that you're undergoing much turmoil in your life right now. I feel bad because I'm not there to spend a day with you and just stay by your side like I used to. I feel bad that I'm not there to help you unleash your fury and confusion by shopping in SM Fairview the place to be. Hehe. Seriously though, you should've told me. But even if you didn't, I knew I'd find out what's going on with you somehow and I'm glad I did. You know what? I love you and I miss you. And I pray for you, that things work out for the better. Smile, okay?

I am one of the many few who crumble at defeat and I end up kicking myself time and time again to urge myself to get up. I am also one of the many who don't want to settle down, with any person, situation or lifestyle. I like constant flux and I like the turns and twists that life lets me experience. However, there are brief moments when I like just floating or drifting. For me, these are the times in between old, beautiful memories and new, uglier situations. I like being in this state because it makes me as lucid as possible. And here, I am free.

Today is one of those days. I did pretty much nothing the whole day, just daydreaming about past memories and thinking about some harder and more complicated ones tomorrow. I told myself as I was rocking my body to sleep that maybe some memories are what they are, so we can look upon them and smile at the thought that they actually happened. Maybe all memories are that way. They are what they are to make our lives as meaningful as possible. If they were all beautiful, we wouldn't know what painful is. If they were all painful, we'd be hell living a very depressed life. However, they are a mix of the good and the bad, the beautiful and the painful, so we may look back on them and plan for the future on how to achieve more beautiful ones and discard painful ones. If we do this, then maybe the bite of the painful ones would sting and hurt us less. And maybe, there'd be a promise of a better tomorrow.

"Not everything has to be sad with you.."

This is what he told me.

"I found out there's always tomorrow to remind you you're still okay, and there's still tomorrow, with a bunch of other people, waiting for you to be okay."

This is what she told me.

"I'm as strong as I make myself to be. And I will prove to you that I am, no matter what shit I get from you."

Finally, I decided that this is what I would tell myself.

***

I'd like to give my thanks to all those who've greeted me on my birthday, June 8. I really appreciate it because you remembered someone who was a thousand miles away. Yet, your greetings have touched me all the same.

I've been thinking today as I was surviving the silent treatment my boyfriend is giving me (for a reason that I still think is his fault) that some people hang on longer than other people do. I, for one, have been the latter. I was just looking back on the last three years of my life, the beginning of my life in my opinion, and I concluded that I have been one of those who have been hanging on for too long a period of time that I finally let go. However, I still think that I'm hanging on to a different thing: my principles. After the second semester full of philosophy, I've been a big fan of existentialism as aformentioned in earlier entries, and I believe that I make myself through my decisions and responses to my experiences. I respond the way I want to to things that happen to me, and I do with care and deep thought. Sometimes, I want a better a life. Okay, more often than not, I do want a better life. Don't we all? Moreover and surprisingly, I want this life. I want to live here. I ... want to stay where I am.

I'm stuck in a too beautiful moment. For almost two weeks now, I've been staying with Pao from San Francisco to Oregon and back. I met his family, his family's family's relatives. Man! I've never seen such a BIG clan. I even met the cousins of their second and third cousins. The thing that most caught me off guard was the feeling of being welcome. I never got that from anyone's family. Sometimes, not even my own. They accepted me as if I were one of them. They gave me hugs and kisses and threw me in the pool as they do to each other. We took pictures and ate together, laughed and drank. I met my boyfriend's brother's friends, and even they made me feel welcome. I learned that it was okay to let loose and have fun. It was okay to have a few vodkas and beers and it was okay to say no after having quit smoking for almost a year now. I learned it was great to sing karaoke with people I don't know, and I learned that cake was good anytime of the day. It felt nice going home again at who-knows-what time it is in the morning, and going home to Southpark on TV. It was nice having to cook our own adobo and our breakfast, ice creams with peanut butter chocolate, quesedillas, lumpia, bbq, turon, spaghetti, everything. It was nice staying in Oregon with Pao's family - - his mom, Kuya Hammed, his wife Ella, Kuya Nino, Gelo, Babee and Buga (the dog). It was nice having to shop without sales tax and actually talking about plans in the future. It felt good blowing out a cake on Pao's birthday, and sleeping with two men by my side who were too big that I kept on hitting my elbow and bruising it 'cause I was squished. It felt good visiting my boyfriend's school and meeting all his teachers, talking to his art teachers and planning about future art shows. It was amazing how I met so many titos and titas in a matter of minutes, and being introduced as his girlfriend just seemed... right.

I feel guilty because I don't even want to go back home. I don't want to go back to cold treatments, and unclear future-planning, no talking and silent no civil conversation environments. I don't want to call them or tell them about this amazing time I'm having. I'm selfish about this but somehow, I'm holding on more to this than anything else I ever had. ... I'm turning 19 tomorrow. And I hope everything becomes more beautiful from there.