Dear Beryl at 29,

Happy birthday!

We’re writing this two months late, because I didn’t realize I wasn’t able to write my annual letter to self on my birthday. Probably because I got swept away by all the gifts and cakes I received.

But whatever. The important thing is I am writing it now, on day 2 of the blessed 9 days you get off from school.

As we write this, we’re on bed, and we can hear the washing machine is doing its job right outside the window. It’s a Sunday; the first Sunday since April this year that you missed out on attending the Holy Mass, the Feast and the Singles monthly gathering. Why?

Well, mostly because you’re disappointed that your Feast crush is probably no longer available, and the girl who snagged him is also in the ministry, and you just feel foolish and ugly and really bad about yourself, and you wanted to hide.

I reread that sentence. I guess it sounds as pathetic as it does now, but you know us. We can’t help ourselves. It also doesn’t help that we have our period, so our hormones are getting extra dramatic, to the point that we are now starting to wonder if God is trying to tell us something.

I mean, we’ve never been in a relationship. The only time someone gave special attention to us, we turned him down, because it just wasn’t the right match. We don’t regret it; it was the right thing to do. But we wonder — or at least I do, right now — if we’re just not meant to find and have a person in our lives, that is just ours? Someone who will accept and love us no matter what, because he chooses to do so, because he sees something in us that is appealing to him, and complementary to what he needs in his life. Someone who will stick by us, through whatever, and be our ultimate go-to Person.

Someone who will not reject us. Someone who will listen and teach us. Someone uniquely created just for us.

I fervently hope that as you read this a year from now (well, ten months from now, at least), that all these questions have been answered. Because, if not, I seriously don’t know.

To be clear, I do want to serve God. I want to give back to Him all that He has blessed me with, undeserving that I am. I want to devote my life to serving Him through others.

BUT… I also want to experience true, unconditional, romantic love. I want the intimacy, both physically and intellectually. I want the connection, the bond that has no concrete match, but is there. I want long, late-night conversations about nothing and everything. I want tight bear hugs, forehead kisses, holding hands while walking, cheesy romantic cliches (in the park, beach, mall — everywhere!), cuddles and spooning, calming silence and sweet endearments. I want a partner, someone to lean on and run to, someone to build and create with, someone to be inspired by and of, someone who will push and pull me out of my (weekly) dark days, SOMEONE REAL AND HONEST AND LOVES GOD AND PERFECTLY IMPERFECT.

I want my match.

The thing is, I have no idea how or what I can do to meet him. Like, how does that even happen anyway? All my life, I’ve fallen in like and heavy infatuation with guys who are, clearly, not for me. I’m so tired of it — crying my heart out, begging, bargaining, saying that I will let Him take over, when I really… don’t.

Because I have this strong feeling that He wants me to choose the other side of the coin, that is, single-blessedness.

BUT I DON’T WANT THAT.

I can’t. Not when I am always fantasizing of a big family dinner, with my kids and grand kids, and me telling them “during my time” stories that I’ve told about countless times. Not when I can clearly see myself with my children, reading Harry Potter and Narnia, analyzing and criticizing movies, listening to music, playing card and board games, laughing, learning, loving, SERVING GOD. Not when I know, that I am meant to be a mother.

And I am absolutely terrified that I’ll never be.

I am 28 years old, and I know nothing.

I hope that a year from now, I’ll know at least a little bit more.

Stay strong.

Bee

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The perfect combination of chill and crazy — my brother Boji.

On your special day, I pray that God keeps you healthy, strong, able and capable. I also pray that He bestows upon you all of the things you desire that will be good for you. Sana maging masaya ka kung ano man ang ginagawa mo. Sana din kung maging malungkot ka man o magka-problema, alam mo na nandito lang si Ate para sa iyo. Alam natin pareho, mas Kuya ka pa nga sa akin madalas, at sobrang nagpapasalamat ako doon. Thank you for being MY brother, the person I can unload to whenever I get too much thoughts in my head and in need of a new, fresh, clearer perspective. Thank you for being that constant person in my life who I know will never let me down. 

I love you bro! MWAH!

P.S. Hope you like my gift!

Late night confessions

It’s almost 10 PM on a Sunday night and I really should be going to sleep, but I just finished re-watching “Prince Caspian” (because we ate at Pancake House last Friday, and there was a poster of the movie there) and it gave me all the scripturient feels, so here I am.

I was planning to post about a picture I found on Facebook, but I can’t seem to find it again, mostly because I am distracted by the posts I’m seeing.

Here’s the thing: ANG HIRAP PALA KAPAG YUNG “SECRET” CRUSH MO MAY SOMETHING NA GANAP AT WALA KANG WAY NA MALAMAN ABOUT IT WITHOUT REVEALING THE SECRET.

Snails! (This is my new go-to-curse word btw.)

Ugh. Di ko carry. I don’t even know if I’m going to post this.

Obviously, I will.

The thing is, I’m a believer. I want to believe. I like this feeling, of not knowing and getting giddy besides the fact. Which is ridiculous. I am almost 30. At this age, most of my classmates are either getting married or are expecting. Sure, it’s 2016; we don’t have to be traditional and all, but I WANT IT.

I want a traditional family. I want a steady, simple, serving life. And I want to believe and trust in God that whatever I am feeling right now, for this person — who I have to admit, I have not actually had a conversation with *YET* — means something.

Even at the risk of falling flat on my face.

There’s no emotion here apart from the giddiness to what could be possible. I think…

No, I know. So, if and when I find out what the hell is happening with this person I am crushing really hard on (for reasons unclear/ gut reasons), and it would most probably have nothing to do with me (kasi nga di ba, di pa kami talaga nagkakausap!), it won’t be the end of the world for me. I’ll be disappointed, I guess, but other than that, I’ll be fine. God’s got me.

The important part here is that I keep my mouth shut, because there are much, much worse things that can happen if my secret crush leaks. I know they know I have one. I don’t know just how smart or committed they are to finding out who. I don’t think they are, to be honest. I’ve tried to keep a low profile so far. The only way they’d know is if they read my poems after observing me during the Feast, but even then, I’d like to believe I have been very, very discreet.

Haay.

I really need to go to sleep na.

Before I go, here’s my most latest Feast crush-inspired poem, as posted on FB:

“Hopeful Romantic”

Paano kaya magsisimula ang kwento natin?
Sino kaya ang unang aamin?
Saan kaya tayo nito dadalhin?
Medyo nakakapagod na isipin

Kaya ako’y tatahimik na lang at mananalangin.
Kung tama at totoo itong damdamin,
Gagabayan tayo ng Panginoon natin
Sa taong ating tunay na iibigin.

And the picture I was planning to write about:

HERE’S TO A BLESSED WEEK. CAN’T WAIT FOR VACATION!

OLA!

Classes were suspended today, and I got to sleep in after three straight days of waking up at 4AM! WOOHOO!

But now, I am faced with a dilemma:

Do I do what (I think) I need to do or do I do what (I think) I want to do?

Right now, writing this, it’s pretty obvious that I am doing the latter, and I’ll justify that decision by pointing out that classes i.e. work were suspended, which means I do have the day to… just be.

Anyway, I’ve been going through my blog, and I honestly don’t know what I want to do about it.

A part of me have already resigned that my blog is for me: an online repository of my thoughts and feelings, and a sort-of chronicler of my life. If one day, someone gets interested of, well, me, then they have a reference.

Still, another part of me wishes I could use my writing, the one thing I know I can do without any doubt whatsoever, for others.

And yet, another part of me feels a bit… lame. I have all these plans and “goals”, but I don’t really see a way of achieving them any time soon.

Basically, I’m making myself get a headache over something that is, really, not so important, mostly because I’m holding off doing what I need to.

Which, in retrospect, is really the true problem.


I think it’s high time for me to make a list and center myself.