A Prodigal Daughter's Letter

Dear Father,

I honestly feel like shit. I don't think someone can love a person who never stops screwing up... intentionally. I am such a rebel. I am such a hypocrite. I am incapacitated, and all those stupid metaphors of having no freedom from myself. I am hurt. I am lonely. I am empty. My pride will never admit that I am broken and falling apart. I feel like my life doesn't mean anything to anyone. I am insecure and insignificant. And now I don't think I can ever be where I want to be.

If I cry out to you and knock my pride out of the way, I will only lie that I can change, 'cause I don't think I can. And I will be back to this place again, with my barriers so much worse. I don't want to hope and fool myself again. I am so tired of my weak self. I am so tired of having to lie to you.

But if I keep silent, my life will continue to break and fall apart. I will continue to be meaningless. I won't have the right to talk about you anymore, and my soul will continue to be thirsty. And there will be endless nights of having to go to sleep feeling empty. I will have no passion and compassion. I will rely solely on initiative and willpower, which could be good. And I will forever feel insignificant and insecure.

My faith is dead. My faith is in so many other things which makes grace nonexistent in my life. I don't believe that kind of grace will ever reach me, and stay. I might as well say goodbye to you, 'cause I can continue to try, but I will only be frustrated. Both roads lead me there, anyway. I can deny you, but I believe that you will never go away, so now I can't say you're the one that got away. But this is my choice, and I know I will never be happy with it. My broken heart might someday say, "You're all I needed all this time," but my pride will not admit that I was wrong. And even if you are all I needed, my pride will say you wouldn't have loved me anyway.

My pride is shitty. I am shitty. The truth is I can't go on without you, and it makes no sense to even choose with the choices I'm given. So strip me of my pride, and humble me down however you want, whatever it takes. They say that you will break me, and it will hurt. But I don't care as long as I end up with you.

'Cause you have shown me your heart, and I have seen who you really are. They say that I can not see the truth and still stay the same. I don't know because I don't trust myself. So here I am again at your feet. I know I've blown my chances, but I think there will never be a time that not even the smallest part of me believes that you are who you say you are.

Take this humility that's still left of me. Take all the broken pieces if you can find them. And save me. Save me from myself.

Your daughter,

Prom and the Great Unknown

DISCLAIMER: I know the intro sucks, but stick around. XD

Prom. People say it's one of the best things that will happen in your life. I am one of those girls who, at one point of their lives, existed for prom. That one point may just be for a few minutes. But I keep wondering why certain things seem convincing that it could change our lives.

I wish I could say I hoped my last dance would last forever, but I never even got to dance with my special someone that night. I smiled my way through, and no one knew it was one of the unhappiest moments of my life. I cried myself to sleep that day. Looking back, I can't even feel a tinge of pain that I had felt. I felt ugly, unwanted, and unloved, but not anymore. Maybe this is what healing feels like. It's surprising when you don't even care about the past. My 15-year-old self would never have bought the idea that what mattered to me then would not really matter to me now. Who would have known that after all those years of boy hunting and insecurity, there would actually be a time that I would genuinely not care about boys? Who would have thought that the confident girl who had so many friends in high school would actually be an introvert who finds it hard to build deep relationships with new people? And who would have foreseen that I'd be a total opposite of who I was before?


God totally saw that coming. In fact, I think He's the mastermind of whatever I'm going through right now. I'm beginning to think that the phrase "people change" is so underrated. People would usually see that in a person when a person's change affects them and it's so obvious. But what about what's happening inside of a person? Do we usually take the time to know what's really going on even when it's not affecting us? No one would have known I'm going through this season when I feel totally unsure of who I am. Now, I can say that God knows me better and really believe it. I still talk to my old friends the same way. I'm still the fun, jolly, assertive, and demanding Krishna. But when I'm around new people, I find it so hard to initiate a conversation, and I can't take small talk. It's like literally living two lives, and that's not new at all.

Before this time in my life, I would claim to be a Christian, go to church, and impart really wise stuff to my youth group, but my integrity was falling apart. What I do when no one's around is what matters. It is the time when it's just the two of us -- God and me -- and I would boldly disregard him and do something wrong. I realized that what I feel right now -- invisible, unwanted, and uninteresting -- might be exactly what God is feeling whenever I sin in secret. I can never know how desperately He wants to be with me, but I know that the intensity of it so great that it cost Him his son. Thankfully, my integrity is now founded on grace, and I don't have to try so hard with my own effort because I know God will come through. I think He wants me to learn something from this. First, relationships takes time and effort. Second, whenever I feel insecure, I just have to be firm in faith that God knows what I feel and I am who He says I am: loved, wanted, accepted, valuable, and a daughter of the most high God.

I am writing because my heart goes out to all the people who feel misunderstood and could not speak up, whether they are Christians or not. I am sure God does not want us to feel alone, cause He's always there. But the church is a family, and no one's supposed to feel that way when you're part of it -- not even me. I'm trying hard, but sometimes I just can't get through, so I thank all the people who took the time to reach out, sit with me, and sincerely listen to what I have to say. It's easy to overlook people who feel so lonely and frustrated because they can't fit in. A person could smile and say hi, and we wouldn't know what they're really feeling. We cannot assume that people do not want to open up, because they do at some point. Sometimes we just have to ask 'cause they're not really trying hard. It's easy to accept people when you don't see the baggage that they're hiding. And I believe there's a yearning in everyone to be able to hold their head up high and know that someone accepts them for who they are no matter what.

If you have only started to know me now, you wouldn't know that I was a selfish girl who always talked about myself. I thought people wanted to hear me out, and they actually listened. For all I know, they were forcing themselves to bear with me cause the things I was saying were not even worth it. Now I'm on the other side of things. I can't even say anything without fearing that I'd make the conversation awkward, or what I had to say is not interesting. So many people out there just want to be heard. So go hear them out, listen, and really care about them, not because you want them to do the same when it's your turn to talk, but just really having that passion to see what God is doing in that person's life, and knowing what they need. When it's all said and done, you might just have the right words to tell them. Maybe you would do that to a person you want to minister to, but you just never know. The most unlikely people might be the ones who need it the most.

Silly me. I'm talking to a blog. Until now, no one has known my prom was devastating. A few people know that I'm going through this right now, including you. But that's our little secret. Ross Frazier just walked out of the church door saying, "You'll make it. If it means anything, you'll make it." Funny, he doesn't even know I'm writing this. I know seasons come and go, but we never know how long it's going to last. God does give the right people in my life whom I can tell the whole truth about myself to, and I won't be feeling this in the future. But while I'm here, I'm making the most out of it. God has put me on the other side of the fence and I have a feeling that a lot of people are walking around feeling this way more that I have imagined.

Round Trip To Memory Lane

I had to ride round trip that night. It was Westlife's concert at the Araneta, and the crowd was so dense that I couldn't even get near the sliding doors of the train. In my far right, there was the women's section of the MRT, and it was so full that they had to line up beyond that section. It was the first time I've seen that happen. In front of me were adult men who pushed their way forward. Seconds after I stood behind them, they had to take a second look at me, a seventeen-year-old girl who probably looked years older and pretty with her mastery of "barely there" make-up and an almost plunging shirt.

I lied to the guards and told them I had to go to Taft, which was on the other side of where I should go. I think they had an idea that I was about to ride round trip, but what can they do? So they let me in and out without having to swipe my card again. When I got inside the train, a seat was immediately available after one stop. All I had to do was sit and wait 'til I get to Cubao, which, according to my estimation, would be thirty minutes after the start of the show.

People around me began to leave station after station until we reached Taft, the last station. Only two of us were left, I figured that the other person wouldn't mind waiting long than pushing her way into the train. If it wasn't for the aircon, I could have concluded that the MRT was the modern day version of those trains used in Hitler's concentration camps. The two of us sat there alone for less than a minute before people started rushing into the train which was now en route to Monumento.

Less than a minute was enough time for a quick flashback of when I was years younger. I saw myself, a grade school student, sleeping comfortably and tucked in my dad's wide arms. I woke up to see for the first time the sad, barely lighted highway towards Taft. I asked him where we were and he answered. I can't remember the details, but I believe I did something wrong that night, and we had to go somewhere to do something, so he went with me even though it was very late. Then another flashback came to mind, still in the MRT. I was twisting my body a little less than 90 degrees towards the window to contemplate and watch the moving scenery before me. My brother did the same, since either my mom or my dad wouldn't allow us to kneel on the seats. My dad was talking about something called "round trip" and I couldn't understand it at that time, no matter how he and my mom explained it to me.

Now I understand. I have grown up and I'm able to ride the MRT alone. But I would trade my age to be able to be wrapped in my father's arms again. Screw growing up, because now, he has to go abroad to be able to pay for this laptop I'm using to type this thing, and he wouldn't go home since he has to pay for my debut and college education. Screw growing up, because the last time he came home, I opened my arms for a hug, but he settled for a quick peck on the cheek because he was hesitant to embrace a teenage girl who now has boobs. Screw conformity, because we rarely say "I love you" and it gets harder to do sweet things each day. Will there be a day in the future when my parents would cuddle me like they did when I was a kid, and neither any of us would feel uneasy? Will I be able to nap on afternoons again as my father stretches both his arms, my mother laying her head on his right arm, while I and my brother lay our heads on the other one?

I honestly don't know. And I'm dead afraid to say no. I was close to tears on my way to Cubao, but I had to shut my eyes so tight and shoo off my thoughts. I would not cry all of a sudden in that train. People would think I'm crazy! After all, I am growing up, I knew better. Perhaps I'll continue this wishful thinking some other time, preferrably when I'm alone. At least last night it was good to be seventeen. The concert started just after I got in. I've been dying to see this since I was a kid.

Masaya ba ako?

Masaya ba ako tuwing nagkaka-crush ako sa UP Baguio?

Oo. Inspired ako.

Masaya ba ako sa reaksyon ng mga tao upang ipakita na crush nila ako?

Sa una. Pero ayaw ko kasi nun, wala nang challenge.

Masaya ba ako 'pag nakikita kong nare-realize mong wala na akong gusto sa'yo pagkatapos ng lahat ng 

effort mo?

Hindi. Kasi kaibigan kita. Mahalaga ka.

Masaya ba ako tuwing may bago nanaman akong crush na kinakikiligan at pinag-uusapan?

Oo naman. Pero hindi, kapag nandiyan ka sa tabi at nakikinig.

Masaya ba ako na may kakayahan akong saktan ka o paasahin ka kahit wala naman akong ginagawa sa'yo?

Hindi. Hindi talaga.

Masaya pa ba ako tuwing nandiyan ka?

Hindi na.

Pasensya na ha. Ganito lang talaga ako. Wala lang kasi talaga sa'yo yung ugaling hinahanap ko. Pasensya na kung ikinukumpara kita sa isang taong wala namang kinalaman sa'yo. 'Wag ka mag-alala. Nung nakita ko na kawawa ka, napag-desisyunan kong wala na akong crush. Para fair. Kaya ayun, sa mga ayaw maniwala, pasensya, wala na talaga eh.

Oh, did you notice? There was a scar left behind.

Looking back at my old self, how I used to talk and how I used to care about things, I figured out that maybe I don't know myself these days. It's me learning to adapt, but it doesn't seem like the real me. I'm getting better yet I don't feel like it.

It's funny how one person can change how you look at things in life, how he change the things that matter, and how he can force you to change the way you act. Sometimes, you may not like it, and you may not be able to free yourself from your thoughts; but then you'll find out in the end that it was the best thing to do. Or is it? Is it really? Months of shutting up and keeping things to myself are now bugging the hell out of me. It's like whenever I see that person, I just want to burst and say every single feeling that I had. Before, I wanted to, but I shouldn't. Now, I still want to, but I can't.

Some things are better left unsaid.

Even if it's true and even if it's all you really need to say to get it over with.

Because even if it's true, but then it's something bad you should forget, and if saying so will just hurt other people and scar your relationships, it's not worth saying it. No questions asked, I shut up.

My mind tells me to shout all these things to you, yet my heart says I should hold still. Then hold still, I will. I love you. :)