I used to think that I was strong. My biggest strengths were the capacity to isolate my emotions from the situation and the ability to passively accept what was happening. When my mom left us, and my dad got hit by a car, among other (more difficult) turmoils that came, I did not waste time pitying myself and asking why our situation was worse than others. I've always been immune to a sense of entitlement, to a sense of being cheated or short-handed by life and the world and just saw problems as what they are: things that needed solving. Sure, sometimes I'd waste a night or two just crying over these, but I only cried because I knew there was no avoiding pain, and that in a few months, life will have moved on so it was alright to be sad and cry.

I've never felt the need to disclose the details of my life to anyone - not Joanna, not Joey, I guess in some part my friend, Ador, but even that felt wrong after some point. I want to keep some things secret because these are the things I draw my strength and confidence from. Instead, I just let these experiences manifest themselves in my maturity and kindness. I had a secret satisfaction knowing I've gotten past more difficult things. I knew the value of kindness and helping whenever possible because during times of distress, every bit of it mattered.

Lately, however, I've been faring worse than usual. Instead of being collected, I've been all over the place, grasping at every bit of support that seems likely. I was able to rationalize what happened: we were both sincere, the ending doesn't change the fact that the last half year was great, he cares/cared for me, maybe it wasn't the right time, there's no use regretting because anything like this requires (and is worth the) risk and that, once made can never be taken back, that I loved (how far I've come, using this word!) and that I was loved.

Still do I find myself crying at random moments during the day, taking to social media to validate my feelings or look for attention, sending messages that are both too revealing and bordering on desperate --- these things ultimately make me feel worse about the situation and myself.

I really do care about this person. In fact, I still hold him in the highest regard. And if there is the slightest chance of keeping him in my life as a friend in the future without mitigating respect, I want that to materialize.

I guess it's time to confront this sadness by myself, be silent and listen to the thoughts that scream when I am all by myself and just weather through it, no matter how long and difficult the process is. There is, after all, no other way through but through.

I hope I find myself again in trying to be okay. I hope I don't lose you completely too. At the very least, I hope you don't forget, that once in a while you think of me only in a positive light. Because these steps - distance, silence, opening myself to the possibility of constant tears - are necessary, but after I'm through, I know I still won't find it in my heart to be anything but kind to you.

Maybe one day I'll stop saying it. Maybe one day your silence will force mine.

I've Stopped Counting

I hope one day, this passes. We don't talk as much now and it makes me sad but this is how it's going to be. One day you'll find someone else you'd want to talk to everyday, just as we did.

I've worked this all out in my head the day after we drove miles to say goodbye. I know the reasons, or at least, I've reconstructed some semblance of it in my head. I guess there are just fragments of hope still left hanging somewhere, wishing you'd change your mind.

I doubt you will, but a part of me is still hoping. I am battling with that hope everyday, aiming to kill it. I know one day it will die and I'll get used to silence.

I ran 6 kilometers last night. It's the longest distance I've ever covered. I wonder how much farther I'd have to go 'til I feel better and strong enough to let all of these, and you, go. Tens of miles, probably.

I miss you everyday. I haven't stopped wondering how you are. This is really hard.

I know I tire people with my sadness so I'll say it here: the aching has not stopped. I still cry at night.

Day 5

I should really just stop counting.

Maybe I should forgive myself for these little loopholes. For the messages I keep sending. It's hard to completely distance yourself from someone you've gotten used to talking to practically everyday anyway. Maybe the occasional messages are excusable. One day I'll muster enough strength (and pride) to stop sending them completely but tonight I miss him more than most days and I had to let him know.

I'll be okay, eventually.

Friends, in an attempt to make me feel better, keep on sending me pieces on finding true love and someone being the best for me, etc. I don't need these. I don't want romantic love to be the lis mota of my existence. Sure, i'd welcome it, but I don't really want another person to fill this void of the moment. I want to be okay alone, more than anything else.

Yesterday, when I boarded the bus for a 6-hour trip home, I almost regretted going up to Baguio. It was mostly because I realized I never told my father I was taking the bus home (I honestly just didn't get to mention it, and I felt so guilty!!!) because I was too excited that he allowed me to go in the first place, I immediately went up to study in celebration. I'm sure he wouldn't have said yes had he known.

But the trip home was nice. It was the first time in a long time that I was completely alone. There is something consoling in being somewhere remote and finding your way home by yourself. I felt like I could be my old self again.

Still, I cannot help but feel pangs of pain and sadness once in a while. You really get used to the absence eventually (mostly because you do not have a choice about it!) but sometimes you remember and you keep missing.

I know you cannot return the words because you think it's for the best. I miss you anyway.