confessions

this is officially my second day of summer vacation. this would perhaps be my most unplanned, uneventful summer vacation and it's only been two days. i thought this summer was it. i had so much hope for it. it felt ripe for change and it being the summer that i say goodbye to teen-dom for good, i thought it was the summer i'd go out with a bang.

in giving in to my mood of restlessness and melancholia i couldn't help but think i'm in a rut. i always thought of myself as a go getter but it seems i was just deluding myself into thinking i could be something. i think when you finally say good bye to the suffix "teen" to your age the idealism goes out the window as well. finally the rose tinted glasses give way to the glare of reality and all you really armed with now is the courage to pursue the "real" world or the stench of failure.

two words uttered by someone i really admire hasn't really flushed out of my system. am i really just cut out to be the secretary or is there a leader in me somewhere? people see potential. people see talent. people see something. and it irks me that i cant see that "something". i've been to a dozen leadership seminars. i've signed off the same amount of candidacy forms and what have yous. i've written speeches upon speeches. i've crossed that threshold from the comfort zone into the courage zone. but i cant seem to shake of the spirit of regret and failure. because i really thought i was going somewhere. i really thought i was doing something. but it seems im nothing more than a glorified figure head with no substance.

this rut that i'm in seems like a crater into a black hole of infinite regress. if i succeed in one thing, i'm bound to fail in another. i think this is why the french coined that cliche "c'est la vie" because life isnt feeling any easier especially when you think it is. it's this merry go around, you think you're up but you're apparently down. surprise surprise life has it's own version of project runway or america's next top model.

"one day you're in, the next day you're out!" -Heide Klum

and another thing, when do relationships get any easier? are they just meant to tide you over to the next big argument which just then leads to the next big make up....then the cycle continues. two nights in a row i've spent my two am's on the phone crying and arguing about something i feel is right but the other feels is completely selfish. there doesnt seem to be any middle ground anymore. there doesnt seem to be gray areas. compromise is such a dream that i feel it isnt attainable. (well with this particular person it isnt.)

so you see. if i dont feel like i'm something to be judge since my resume is currently proliferating the business skyline, i feel like a yoyo being thrown back in forth in events i cant comprehend. progress? can that really happen? or are those "little steps" really just small steps to a bigger regress? because sooner or later i'll find that i've fallen short on something or that i wasn't doing it right. don't give me psychoanalitcal analysis on what i'm feeling. been there, i know. don't spiritualize what i'm going through because i've read it. don't mother me, because i can't handle that. but deliver me. because failure is my waterloo. because regret is that something i cant get rid of. because i don't want to say goodbye to teenage-hood in this state.

i deserve better.

chameleon

you have so many skins i barely know who you are.
you have so many masks i find it hard to know you.
you have so many expressions i dont know which is real.

who are you really? a friend or foe?
what are you really? a boy or man?
how are you really? happy or forlorn?

fading away

there really is something that must be said when you're grasping at straws. what else if left to hope for when all you have are bits and pieces of memories that only YOU can remember? what can you do when you're standing alone on a precipice when there used to be two?

i haven't heard from Ryan for a while now. It's like he left me hanging there in the middle of nowhere. We used to be so close, close enough to pass for lovers-- which we were once. Whatever romance that has dried out now blossomed into a friendship that was comfortable and understanding-- home. But it all seems like yesterday to me. What used to be my lifeline, has now been severed by the one person who anchored it.

How do you move on after this kind of intimacy? This isn't the kind that is recognized by flesh, nor is it the kind that is driven by passion and lust. But it is an intimacy of souls, that makes me far more vulnerable and far more brittle than any other relationship I've had. I used to tell someone who is struggling with the same burden as I am, to let go and think of yourself for a change. I never could understand why it was so hard for her to just let loose and be free. And now that I am shackled as she is, I've come to realize that it isn't as easy as it seems.

Just as you invest in financial ventures, it isn't a piece of cake to just cut your losses and move on. This particular relationship of mine has seen me through milestones, gray areas and darkness. I thought it could weather anything, and was fortified enough to see through all storms. But now that I feel so desolate and alone, all the hopes I had are as broken as the promises he once uttered.

Is this a vendo kind of relationship? Am i the endless supply of encouragement and happiness just slip me a coin somewhere? I admit i give Ryan leeway, even when it hurts I smile and make it seem alright. He finds joy when I'm insecure I guess, or when he knows he has the ability to humble me. But there is more to us than this sacrificial kind of relationship. Ryan, perhaps if he hasn't realized it yet, will be the only person in this Earth who will know me best aside from God. He's seen me in diapers, in underwear, in skirts and toothy grins, and in practically anything. So maybe this is one of the big reasons why I'm holding on. We've known each other even when we were at our ugliest--where regrets and anger were all we knew. We've also known each other when we were at our most glorious-- when joy and love emanated from us.

Then why? Why does it feel that I'm in a tempestuous darkness? Why does it feel that this special person is being grabbed from my own clutches? Is this what it means when God said he would mold us until we were refined Gold? Am i being shaped in the Refiner's fire? It hurts, it burns, it scalds, and it pains. But if this is the process that He will me to undertake in order to be beautiful--then I submit.

IF fading away is the answer. If change is the only constant. If the variables don't matter. If being separated is what it takes. THEN here I am.

i'm a mess

i dont know if i can blame it on medications. i dont know if i can blame it on hormones. i dont know if i can blame it on being overly sensitive. but i'm a mess.

after eating out with Youth-ees in Jollibee last night, i left not in high spirits but in loneliness. I felt that no matter how much i integrate myself with these people I'll feel like an outsider, a nobody, a speck. The drive home was fast, uneventful, tiring. i thought i could escape my emotions when i got into the sanctuary of my room, only to find out the demons weren't through with me just yet. My one cry for salvation, to the one person i thought i could find happiness in, was left unheard. Joven and i have always had this ritual of sleeping together each on the other side of the phone. After a very confusing, mind-boggling day, i found out Joven fell asleep on me. and my first instinct was to cry. i felt i was being left alone, and there is nothing in this world that scares me more than being alone. and cry i did.

i slept fitfully last night. i woke up with every slight noise and it took me ages to get back to dream land. i was angry. i was angry for feeling this way. i was angry at Joven for letting me down at what seemed like the upteenth time. i was angry at myself for feeling so dependent on the externals. and i'm still angry. like there isnt going to be anything right in the horizon.

i'm a mess.

the two men in a woman's life

i think no matter how many men you meet in your life they will either be divided into two categories: the mr nice guy and the mr bad guy.

Mr. Bad-guy is the guy you're attracted to but you know it wont get any further than that. he's that elusive guy who seems to have all the trappings life can offer. whenever he smiles you feel your insides turn jell-o and you feel all inhibitions fly out the window. he's the guy you drink beers with and go over the limit. he's the guy you smoke cigarettes with even if you cant smoke. just so you can endear yourself to him and make him think you're exponentially cooler than what you really are.

Mr. Nice-guy is the guy who will tuck you into bed after a wild party night with Mr. Bad-guy. He's the guy who turns jell-o when he looks at YOU. The kind of guy who will whisper sweet nothing in your ear and mean them. The kind of guy who will berate you for drinking too much and for smoking at all. the kind of guy who will wrap his arms around you and you know that it's a perfect fit. He's the kind of guy you push aside for Mr. Bad or take fore granted coz you know now matter what happens he'll still be in the sidelines.

I'm pretty sure you ladies out there know what kind of guys I'm talking about. perhaps you don't consciously know this but subconsciously you separate your guy friends into these categories. i don't know how i got snapped out of my naive-ness but perhaps it's because i came in contact with two of my top Mr. Bad Guys in a span of two days. and in those two days my top Mr Nice-guy has been so pushed into the sidelines it's a wonder he's still here.

there are two inevitable questions that come to mind: do we ever grow out of it? and who do we end up choosing?

compartments

ever wonder why life, or reality for that matter, always has to be organized? everything has to have it's place, everything has to have an order. at a very young age, it was impressed upon us that things, or whatever object, must have an arrangement. you'll see us lined-up by height, divided into girls or boys, categorized by age and so much more. homework exercises would be to arrange things from biggest to smallest, from first to last-- the list is positively endless.

it doesnt get any easier when we grow up, people will still be separated by sex in the MRT, offices are compartmentalized, drawers were invented, dividers created. why must there be compartments? can't live just be one big, hazy, lovely MESS?

ive always prided myself in being a very organized person, to the point that i'm a mild case of OCB. i have everything you could possibly need in my pencil case, my notes have margins, everything has to look aesthetically (if not symmetrically) beautiful. you could say clutter of any kind is an enemy of mine.

but im realizing, life is beautiful with a little mess. it shouldnt always be spik'n'span all the time, in fact relish the nitty gritty of it. pain and hurts shouldnt be thrown away like garbage, or forcefully placed in drawers underneath all the paper work. what i'm saying is that, pain and hurt, albeit being ugly is not to be discarded but faced--and fazed. true courage, i must add, isnt found in the ability to hide the pain so cleverly but the ability to admit to it and finally conquer it.

our hearts have compartments. that cannot be denied. and it does help to put things in order and perspective. but perhaps before you forever hide an embarrassing instance in the dark recesses of your mind, look at it--stare at it--trace the cracks and scratches, remember it and LEARN from it, then finally--push it in a tiny box to be hidden forever.

as some people have said, the only was to stop history from repeating itself is to learn from past mistakes.

the joy of christmas

on my first official day of Christmas vacation i notice that my Christmas countdown has now dwindled down into a single digit number less than five. yes, four more days till Christmas.

i remember when i was a kid, the tree would literally be bursting with presents and i'd secretly peek through the wrapping to know what material goodies I'd have this year. in an attempt to curb my need for temptation, my mom would allow me to only "open" ONE gift per day starting on the night of simbang gabi. of course i wouldn't open the gifts entirely, only enough to know if the contents would be a toy, a dress, a bag, etc. that was how excited i was about Christmas! everything would be different, even the weather cooperated by blowing cool gusts of wind and making the stars twinkle brighter. this particular holiday is my favorite one.

fast forwarding to ten years later, i find myself once more being that starstruck and fascinated child. although there are exponentially less gifts to secretly open this year, the abundance of friends and memories make up for the lack. examining how my year has been, i am happy to report that although it has been rough and very challenging, i find myself to be stronger albeit lazier.

yesterday during philosophy class, my very hard to please teacher afforded me a compliment that perhaps other people would find weird. our topic of discussion was levinas and evil & christmas and evil. at the end of a lengthy monologue he asked the class in passing what season of the liturgical calendar are we celebrating right now. and without thinking i answered "advent". and he looked at me and continued asking "which we celebrate for how long?" in reply i said "four weeks", and he returned " and on the third sunday we celebrate..." and i answered "gaudete Sunday". (and here the compliment enters) he ends our verbal sparring by saying "yes as Isabel from ACMG said we celebrate on the third Sunday of advent gaudete....". the words "as isabel from acmg said.." rang in my head as a form of praise. here was a teacher that seemed so untouchable, because of reputation, noticed my vocation in life: to lead a life that is God centered and God filled. to equate my name to that of an organization that shares this vocation was high praise indeed.

those few words brightened up my day. because even if i had a finance test to worry about three hours later, or a blister on my foot that hurt like hell, here was someone who saw, in a way, that i was making something of my life: something that is productive and not wasteful. actually the point of this whole rant is to share to all those who might glance upon this, the realization sir jc uy imparted to us with the violent use of BABEL. that despite all the pain and hate and discomfort we feel in life, love is always there to be found. love may never be on time when we need it but it is there fleetingly to caress aches and pains of our human souls. (okay those aren't his words per se im sharing them to you in how i understood them)

and that is my Christmas gift to all of you: in the joy of Christmas and in a time of happiness let us not forget those who are less fortunate and less graced. let us be the quicksilver love that they will experience during our gaudete as Christians. merry Christmas to all! :)

disposable

in life nothing is ever constant except change as the famous adage goes. and here i am, thinking i was steady only to find out the winds have changed once more. i find myself once more in that position of being left alone, perhaps the only difference is that now it's a different man.

i thought he was different from all the other guys who have broken my heart. well lately he seemed different. he was the first ever person to break my heart, and since that august four years ago we've been closer than ever. i was naive to think that he was exempt from all the other boys who would trample on me. he is special to me, perhaps even more than any other boy. he has known me inside and out, or so it seemed. in the nineteen years we've known each other it seems he doesnt even know my moods. last night was the cherry on the proverbial icing. i was fed excuse after excuse, i dont even know if i should believe them.

im probably making mountains out of mole hills, im probably exaggerating the whole thing but i looked at him as my savior. he was the one guy i could completely trust, beyond and above all things. and at a time i needed him, he wasnt there. why do people disappoint you like this? why do people put so little effort on you? why do they take you for granted?

ive been looking to be understood for so long. to be the one carried instead of the one carrying. ive been hungering to be loved just as much as i have loved. ive been searching for that someone. after joven hurt me i thought i had gotten back on my feet. but it seems that even if i trust and love back i will always be disposable.

Trunks of my life

I was reading an article yesterday entitled the same way and it evoked in me feelings of nostalgia. when i was a kid, i too wished that my house had an attic upstairs where there would be trunks full of memorabilia perhaps filled with sepia photographs of ancestors i will never know, love letters between relatives of long ago, newspaper clippings of famous blood kin and many more. but alas my childhood home was a one story place and the only thing you could consider as a "second" floor was one step away from the "ground" floor. yes there were old photographs but they were too badly damaged you couldnt see anything clearly. i came upon letters sparingly and they werent even that old because they were perhaps only 19 years older than me.

if reality was so shockingly disappointing, my imagination when i was a kid made up for it. in my head i would find an old baul inlaid with capiz and mysteriously sealed with an iron lock. one day i'd open it and inside see pictures of my lolo's dad, letters between my great grand father and his wife or even pictures of my half uncles and half lolo's when they were kids wearing perhaps ruffled shirts and breeches. it fascinates me to see remnants of history and see the lives of times i will never experience. these people are long lost to me and through these letters, old clothes and brown-colored photographs i get to know them and how they lived or thought. like stepping inside the life of someone else and experiencing something that is utterly foreign to you.

it a surprise to realize that reality isnt always disappointing. just like the adage says if life closes its doors upon you there is a window that will surely open. it was no one's fault that my house didnt have an attic filled with bauls. but my window of opportunity opened last sem break. my lolo, mother's side, as a birthday gift to my mom gave her the love letters shared between his father and mother. my great grandfather, apparently, wrote such lovely letters in english. he had an eloquence that surpasses many of the young men today. he had a gentlemanliness than Southridge only wishes to impart on its students. and a faith that was unmovable. my great grandmother on the other hand, wrote in Spanish because she as much more fluent. with my primary knowledge of the language i wasnt able to appreciate the letters as much but from the little translations my mom gave me i found out that she was an interna, living amongst nuns, and was a very pious and holy girl. she loved her step father a lot and adored her parents but even in the face of love she would defy them to marry my great grandfather. (perhaps this is where i get my romantic tendencies). their letters are like pages from a historical romantic novel. these people, although related to me by blood, are unknown to me and despite this there is a kinship i feel now that i've read their letters. their love story has stood the test of time enough that 80+ years after their courtship, a girl like me was touched by it.

the joy after the rain

it has been gloomy in my life for the past few weeks. it was a kind of gloom that not even the strongest of lights could penetrate. i was wrapped in the arms of despair and pain. there would be nights when i couldnt even find a reason to smile. only a few people out there could touch or even reach me. there were only a few who id allow to get near. even the Word couldnt push through the thick walls that enclosed me. it was a dark place, a dreary place. and i wrote, i poured out words and etched out letters. lengthy expositions about the pain that was eating me inside i filled pages upon pages of all the hurts that no one would hear. i wrote and wrote about all the tears i wish i could cry.

looking back at that dreariness, as a friend had told me, the winter of my life. i have come to realize that it is in hibernation you find the strength to endure the heat of the summer and the bleakness of autumn. now that i feel the snow melting and the ice cracking, now that spring has entered my door, i am rejuvenated to face whatever will darken my thresholds. i am a different person now, perhaps wiser and more knowledgeable, but i dont think i will forget anytime soon the winter that has just passed. many would wish to live and forget the painful times in their lives, to bury them as proverbial skeletons in the closet. but i am not as such, i prefer to remember and yes to reminisce because it is in remembering we dont forget the mistakes. of course there is a difference between remembering the hurt and dwelling in it. in all honesty my heart is still dwelling in the pain. i admit that, but i choose not to stay in dwelling.

everyday, as time passes, the pain hurts less and i am learning to forgive. i look at joven now, not with hating but with understanding. i have come to realize that in order for "us", whatever us will be, to work we have to find ourselves first. we got too caught up in the lives we had built together that we didnt know where the other started or ended, we just knew we were joined.

in many ways, being the mother in the relationship, i smothered him until he wanted out. just as he is my opposite, his carefree attitude didnt mix well with the organized complexities of my life. now that i am wiser and hopefully more learned, i wish to strike a balance between his ying and my yang. i hope that balance is attainable. and if it isnt i hope i am strong enough to accept that there are just some things i cannot fix.

to love a Savior

Darling I want you to listen
I stayed up all night, so I could get this thing right
And I don't think there's anything missing
Cause a person like you, made it easy to do
I've waited for so long, to sing to you this song

this song is stuck in my head. it has been so long since a love song struck me this way. you know how it is when some church/christian songs can somehow be used to portray the romantic love two individuals feel? like IKAW (...ang bigay ng Maykapal, tugon sa aking dasal...). this time however i thought that this song by Amel Larriex would fit the love story i began during my LSS a few years back. and it is the love that i have found in this story which makes it so easy for me to say...

Cause your eyes are the windows to heaven Your smile could heal a million souls Your love completes my existence You're the other half that makes me whole You're the only other half that makes me whole

what would it be like to see Jesus' eyes? would they be a pale shade of blue or an arresting shade of ember? would they be twinkling in the twilight or compelling underneath the sun? would His eyes show love and compassion to a hubmle and contrite sinner like me? will He have a perfect grin filled with pearly white teeth? will he have an adorable crooked tooth in the corner of his lips? will he even smile at me at all? i'd like to think that when i see him he'd have his arms wide open to receive someone such as me. his love is amazing in depth, height and width. his love is agape, limitless and encompassing of everything. it makes it so easy for himto love me, so much that even my existence is swallowed in. and i have come to learn, through this love of his, that he is the other half that makes me whole. and it is ONLY through him and all that he has created that i can be whole. all those people who have come into my life...friends, family, lovers...they are visions of you.

I think the angels are your brothers
They told you about me, said you're just what she needs
And I find myself thanking your mother
For giving birth to a saint
My spirit flies when I say your name If there's one thing that's true It's that I was born to love you

it is my life' mission to worship you. my name alone, Isabel, means consecrated to God. and you are exactly what i need in the wretchedness and pain that accompany my journey. my entire spirit soars when i praise all that you have done. there arent enough words to describe how it feels do be carried in your arms and nursed by your care. truly lord you created me out of your love and to love you. i was born to love you and i am fated to die loving you.

Cause your eyes are the windows to heaven
Your smile could heal a million souls
Your love completes my existence
You're the other half that makes me whole
You're the only other half that makes me whole

You make my dreams Come true over and, over again And I honestly truly believe You and me are written in the stars I live my whole life through To giving thanks to you

all the dreams that i have surrendered to you have come true. in your time and in due course they have come into fulfillment. and i do believe that you have worked miracles in my life and have achieved wonders in all my plans. my name is etched in your heart and as you sit with your father in heaven i know that you are thinking of me every minute of every day. i will live my whole life giving thanks to you who have saved me. as the nails were driven through your flesh you saw remembered me and forgave me.

Cause your eyes are the windows to heaven Your smile could heal a million souls Your love completes my existence You're the other half that makes me whole You're the only other half that makes me whole

yes you're eyes are the windows to heaven...and even just gazing at them i am given a glimpse of eternal peace. you're love completes my existence and you are the only other half that makes me...whole.

mirabilia

it's raining now. "Dreamsounds" songs are playing in my iTunes and i just had a fruitful day. it brings me back to the old days..high school days. those days when i was going through puppy love and every love song written by man were heard by my ears.

i just had a friendly "date" with Ivan tonight. and even if nothing went as planned (it was traffic and one last chance was sold out) we had fun. that's how it is between us. so easy, so carefree, so pressure-less, so free. there is nothing the other doesn't know about. and because of the many years of friendship between us there is that ease i find in no one else. we were laughing over the most mundane things while having dinner in pancake house. this is the kind of friendship that doesnt demand anything from the other person; it is limitless. we share even the most private of things...love life, sexual life, family life...name it we've talked about it. and while watching super bad we were shrieking and laughing. you know if this was a real date i would've been wondering if was too boisterous that i was turning off the guy. if it's ivan it doesnt matter! id squeeze his arms when i was getting scared...and yes i squeezed hard...but he didnt care. we held hands, hugged...acted as if we were a couple...but i didnt feel kilig (thank god) i felt comfort. it's been a long time a guy just hugged me like that...so safe.

as the different love songs play now i remember how we got to where we are now. the friendship, the courtship, the relationship, the end...and now the (best) friendship. im happy he was given to me. God does really provide for all the facets of your life. he gave me someone who will take care of the really painful, disgusting, joyful, wonderful parts of my life. in short he has give me a soul mate who kn ows me perhaps even better than i know myself. and for that i am THANKFUL.