more articles about: relationships

A LETTER TO A PERSON WHO LEFT ME FOR SOMEONE ELSE

It started like a fairytale. Surreal so it seemed. We were miles apart but we fell in love. Your best friend introduced you to me. You just came from a break up and you were still healing. You said you were not yet ready to be in a relationship again. We immediately became friends. And then, a few months later, we turned into lovers. You were sensible, amusing and sweet. We talked about a lot of things. We shared our thoughts and dreams. We even talked about our future together. l waited for the day to come when I could linger in your arms, to sit beside you and watch you sleep, to hold your hand as we walk on the street. How I wished to spend eternity with you. We were happy.

Everything was fine and I felt that you really loved me. You sent me chocolates and gifts. You even wrote a sweet poem for me. But then, I didn’t expect it to end that soon and it wasn’t like a fairytale that had a happy ending.

One day, I just felt that you didn’t really care anymore. You stopped communicating with me for how many weeks. I didn’t know if you were still there. I didn’t even know what you were thinking about. There were many things that I wanted to ask. There were many stories that I wanted to share. But you were not always around. I received a message from you. I was trembling when I opened it. And my instinct was right. You were saying goodbye because you were falling for someone else. You said you still loved me. But I knew that it wasn’t true – because if you really loved me, you didn't fall for that woman. If you really loved me, you didn't have to choose.

You promised that you would never hurt me but you did. Many times. You might think I was so tough but I just never let you see me cry. If you only knew what I had really gone through, then somehow, you would understand. I was so stupid, and at times, even pathetic. I still believed in happy endings. Yet, it didn't happen. But I never hated you. Not even for a day. Not even at all. It’s painful to see you leave but I had no other choice than to let you go. The healing was a long process. It wasn’t easy. It didn’t happen overnight. But I was thankful because I was able to overcome all the pains and heartaches. I learned to smile and to believe in love again. Yes, I had a broken heart but not a broken life. We saw each other when you took a vacation here. We even watched a movie about second chances. But it just ended there.

It was comforting to know that we still became friends. And I felt relieved because when I saw you, I knew that the feelings were no longer there. Many years have passed and a lot of things have changed. I can see that we’re now both happy with our separate lives. And I want to thank you for everything. Now, I understand why it didn’t work out with you - because God has already prepared someone better for me.

TITLE: Good night

It was the morning of May 5; I went to the ICU to take the morning shift. I peeked from the sliding door and saw a female doctor and 3 nurses probably making their rounds. Half asleep, I entered the room not realizing what was happening. I sat in front of my grandma’s bed, waiting for the doctors to leave. My aunt was crying from the corner of the room, I thought that perhaps my grandma was deteriorating. Then the monitor on the upper left part of the bed kept beeping, then the lady in white coat announced “time of death 8:50”.

Everything froze, I didn’t understand a thing. I saw my aunt hug our grandma so tight, shaking out of grief and desperation. I sat there frozen and speechless, it was so surreal I thought it was a dream. My sister who was sitting beside me took a few heavy steps towards grandma’s bed. She hugged our grandma and whispered words lost in between her sobs.

When it was my time, I held her right hand, the hand I used to wipe and hold. It wasn’t cold, it was still warm, soft and wrinkly. The bruises from countless injections she endured. I pressed her hand trying to wake her up, more tears rolled when she wouldn’t respond. “Inang! Agriing kan a, bigaten!” (Granma wake up, it’s morning already) I wrapped my hands around her, she’s the same Inang I used to hug but this time she isn’t hugging me back. I tried to wake her up a couple more times more desperate than the last. I wanted to see those little eyes open again and look at me. I wanted her to ask me “apaya nakkong?” (why my dear?) once more. How about calling me miss Universe when she forgets my name. I loved her and will love her even if she calls me the wrong name.

I still remember the night she held my hands so tight she said “ haan nak panpanawan a, ta nu matay nak ket haan ko nga maymaysa.” (Please don’t leave me so that if I die, I will not be alone “I hope I fulfilled my promise to her I hope she didn’t die lonely but happy. The room was enveloped with grief engraved in the cries we made but in the middle of the room, there she lies. She laid still, she looked so serene and peaceful. It looked like she was having a good nap. It was the first time in years that I saw her sleep so tight.

After all the restless nights she can finally sleep. I wiped my tears as I marvel the way she looked. It was a painful but beautiful sight. I wanted her to wake up but how could I ask that if she looked so peaceful now? After all the pain she endured she is finally resting. I couldn’t ask her to come back when I know she’s in a better place. She is free now, free from pain and suffering. I stop waking her up and held her hand tightly, in between my cries I bid goodbye. To my dearest Inang Nani, go on find the light. I know Tatang and Tito are waiting for your arrival. Rest well Inang, Good night.

Title: MY WONDERWOMAN

This is a story of a clash between a super heroine and the world's most dangerous serial killer.

As a super hero there should always be a power source, and on August 28, 2000 her power source was born. That power source gave her a lot of strength like she can already do anything. She persevered, and defeated a lot of villains because as a super hero she would not let anybody steal nor destroy her energy. So she did everything to protect that power source however that source became her kryptonite.

In 2013, she undergone her checkup because she was enduring pain in her breasts a very long time ago. That time her doctor already diagnosed her with Stage 1 Cancer but she hid it and chose to endure the pain by herself because she does not want her family to worry about her condition. She did her medication by herself, she took the prescribed medicine of her doctor. A year had passed, 2014, she went again to Lorma Medical Hospital for her follow-up checkup and her inner world was wrecked hopelessly because of the doctor’s findings. Her cancer already stepped up to Stage 2 and soon enough will progress to Stage 3. She took a lot of medicines both synthetic and herbal that rumble and change her whole system in a bad way. In the hope of getting better, she decided to undergo chemotherapy.

After her 8th chemotherapy, she saw her power supply, telling her that she should fight more and harder thus she used her super strength and continue to fight the vicious villain, breast cancer. She finished the 10 sessions of chemotherapy to kill the cancer cells but this session also killed her self-confidence due to the loss of her crowning glory. This made her cry and feel hopeless. As days passed by she saw large amount of her hair falling which eventually made her bald. That time she already realize the disease she was suffering from cannot be cured anymore and anytime of the day or the night she might die. Due to her desperate for healing she also tried different quack doctors that does not guarantee or even helped her lessen the pain.

After few months, of 10 sessions of excruciating pain because of chemotherapy, her doctor advised her to have a surgery. The aforementioned procedure aimed to cut her breasts so the cancer cells would not spread all over her body. Her sadness doubled up, for she realized that there are many things taken away from her by the illness she was enduring. Her hair, her freedom to choose what food to eat, her work, and soon one of the important part of her body that distinguish her to be a woman. The surgery went well and incline with this numerous medications are prescribed to aid her fast recovery. There are too many medicines flowing in her bloodstreams that time but the cancer cells was so strong and still manage to hang in her system. She later try another method or her last weapon against cancer, it is the radiation treatment in Villaflor Hospital at Dagupan, Pangasinan. This process aims to burn and put the life of those cancer cells in hell. She completed a lot of sessions of radiation treatment, the doctors already told her that she already defeated cancer but that news was just a big façade. The news is given to ease temporarily all of her sufferings because of the large scar made by the radiation treatment.

She still wanted to fight, she tried, she cried- a lot. Bibles are found everywhere around the corner of their house, a novena in the morning and different prayers to different saints especially to Saint Padre Pio at night. Even though she was already religious before her fight to cancer; she became more - religious, in the hope of the Almighty God will set her free from all the discomfort she was feeling, to make her better. Yes she succeeded defeating cancer but as the story of superheroes, there are full of villains doing anything to kill or eliminate the protagonist.

In September 28, 2015, her husband rushed her to the nearest hospital since she said that she cannot breathe. The next day the doctors told the family that there is no chance for her to survive Pneumonia, but still her family her number 1 fans chose to continue her fight. They even considered it as their own match and did not surrender. They, especially the power source of the heroine decided to put her in I.C.U. or Intensive Care Unit. The energy source saw how they treat her. How they put different apparatuses inside her mouth like a pig or a specimen in an experiment. It is maybe because the doctors already predicted that anytime the heroine would not be able to battle with the new enemy that just arrived. In addition, even though she was still alive with her one by one breath an agent of a funeral service -Pinnacle was already there holding a rosary, watching her while praying. September 30, 2015, around 9:30-10:30AM, she died. Yes, she defeated cancer but Pneumonia took her life.

It made a big impact on the lives of the family, the number 1 fans and supporters especially to the power source since 80% of his life was all about the heroine. She also left a 5 year old avid fan that still does not know what is happening around him, not even realizing immediately that his super heroine will fly away and will never be back again. The heroine in this story is caring, cheerful, talkative, supportive, have patience, lovable but that is not all. She is way different in a good way, because she’s just like a best friend and at the same time a mother of two.

There are people who truly loves their moms and few people who despise their moms. I believe that everyone should be thankful enough that they still have someone that knows everything about them clearly, someone who can give them advices at certain problems, and most of all someone who they can call mom. They are just lucky that they still have their moms, because I already lost mine. Every people should cherish the moments with their parents, since people have limited time in this world. Life is so short and regretting something is not advisable. So be good with them, before it is too late.

Life doesn’t come with warnings. This is the thing that I learned last May 8th, 2020 – the day that my mother passed away.

Before that tragic day, I still remember every conversation that I had with her as she laid on her bed. We talked about my graduation, the law school I should take into account when I finally finish my undergraduate, the color of nail polish that she wants me to put on her toenails, how she cooks our favorite food and so many more.

The days prior to her death – she looked happier, even healthier when her illness started to take a toll on her. I could see the glint in her eyes; her precious smile and hear her small yet infectious laughter. She could even recount every memory down to the smallest details of it whenever we showed her our childhood pictures. She never showed any sign that her time was coming to an end. Until we rushed her to the hospital and I was there, staying by her side and hugging her cold body.

She had cystic mass, ovarian in nature and it was hurting her so much. Due to the pandemic, we had to take precautionary measures before we were able to send her to the ER. While my father was talking to the authorities, I was inside the car with my mom. She was moaning in pain and I remember feeling so helpless and useless because I could not take her pain away. Yet, I asked her, “Kaya mo yung surgery diba, Ma?” and without hesitation, she nodded eagerly.

My mother was the strongest woman I know. Even when she started to get severely sick, she never once cried. Even when we were inside the car and I was holding her in my arms, she did not cry. She probably knew that if she did, then all of us would fall to our knees. So, even in her last moments, she was a mother through and through – she fought but not all battles are won.

When the doctor told me the news, I didn’t know what to feel. I cried like I have never cried before. My father, who was with me when the doctor told the news, held me as I cried and told me that I had to be strong. That I did because after that, I had to set aside my grief and work on several paperwork. I couldn’t feel the exhaustion; I couldn’t even feel the heat. When we got home after we sent our mother to the funeral home to be cremated, everything felt so different. It’s so crazy how the place I have been calling “home” for the past twenty years don’t feel like one anymore. Suddenly, it feels empty. Suddenly, it feels cold and it feels lonely. Yet again, I don’t have the time to grieve my mother because there are academic works to be done. Before writing this, I even had my finals in one of my subjects.

Its hard losing someone you really love and you are really close with. It feels like you’re in a limbo, unable to do anything. Even speaking is so hard to do. Suddenly, there’s no one nagging at you for sleeping in so late. There’s no one you’re going to come home to and rant to. The nightly trips to buy my baon for school (even when I am already in college) will be a one-man job from now on. The only consolation that we have now is that we know that our mother is in a better place now. She’s not in pain anymore and she’s with our lola and uncle, finally. Thank you, Mama, kasi kahit sa huling sandali ng buhay mo lumaban ka para saamin.

To the guy who ruined my eyeliner:

December 25

The final hours of December twenty-fifth drips down in form of rain. The day was fine, all fine, except today I redid my eyeliner three times. The intricate dark lines on my eyelids are weak against old memories, pictures; and most importantly, wet lashes. You cannot imagine how frustrated I was the third time I had to redo them, all because of you. It was five days before Christmas when you told me you no longer wanted to be with me. Cruel, entirely cruel; and in the first few days after that I was begging you to come back. I was a mess and rightfully so. I did lose two years. I did lose your voice in the morning. I did lose the person I love the most.

But during the first two days after our breakup, I could not bring myself to put on eyeliner, as such I had nothing to fix except an empty void in my heart. It was only after three days when I started to regain my will to do anything other than cry. I put on good music, threw on my favorite clothes, and finally drew the lines on my eyelids. The perfect black lines that said, hey, I'm taking care of myself. Hey, I deserve to feel pretty. Hey, I'm moving on. And the entire day, it felt like I was.

December twenty-fourth started with that same, sane energy. I was going to be better for myself, I said. But that Christmas eve, I only felt dead. I slept at nine and woke up some minutes after twelve o'clock. I had missed Christmas. There were no fireworks, no chatter, no lively noche buena. There was only silence. No message from you. I could feel your absence because it weighed too heavily in the air.

You had always been my Christmas wish, every year fulfilled, until that night. I cried then, until the morning of the twenty-fifth. In the afternoon, I tried to get better. Another set of makeup, to cover up the sadness beneath. I went up to my room after, and tried to get some sleep, but I only cried. I redid my makeup. And then cried again, and again. And it was tiring having to redo my eyeliner multiple times, when it was so easily erased by the wetness of my eyes and the old, fading memories. You broke me apart on Christmas and I was obsessed with getting better. I cannot say that I won't cry again, or I won't miss you again, but I want you to know that I will get through this, one stroke of a black line at a time.