Day 1 - Your Bestfriend

They say one can have so many good friends but there can only be one best friend. Well, I beg to disagree. Friends are like a myriad of people, sharing with you many experiences and advises. There are indeed varying levels of friendship. And somehow, a few (or one) stands out from your group of friends because well, you've had the most secrets shared together. Or the most number of days spent together. Or because you're really the only ones each other's got when everybody else has left. Hence the term: best friend.

So, if I follow all of these, then I guess I could name two for me: one girl and one guy. But since my guy best friend now merits a different letter for a different day, I guess I would only be writing to my best girl friend.

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To my best girl friend,

Hi. I know we don't see each other often now. And I know mostly that's because I have almost always refused to go out with you and the others. So, first thing I wanna say to you in here: bear with me (even when I'm not--and I won't--say sorry).

Then I guess I could say thank you. Mostly, just that: thank you.

For getting me through four years of cruel Math, a feat which entailed giving me the answers to our everyday homework and actually passing me your answered exam sheets during the actual exam. Seriously, I never could've imagined getting through that without your expertise (in Math and cheating, yeah).

For not making me play volleyball in our PE classes. Even if that's mostly because getting tired wouldn't do as much damage to the team as letting me play would. Nevertheless, I passed PE because you were good enough to cheat me out of all the games.

For the school requirements you didn't do because I wouldn't as well. Sometimes I thought you were really foolish, letting me influence you into becoming a delinquent student. But then again, I was not as much of an influencer as I was an excuse for you to let your laziness win over.

For the times that I cried because of him and you would only look at me and say I was disturbing your peaceful nap. I could hit you all those times you did that if you didn't make me feel so stupid for crying.

In most ways, you were like the big sister I never had. You always looked out for me, with occasional hits on the head when I got into fights with the seniors while devising a way to help me out as well. I guess high school could be a lot meaner if I weren't a bully with another bully for a best friend.

So there. You know I'm not much of a speaker when it comes to my feelings so I guess you understand my anticlimatic letter. Good luck to your board exams, I hope you do well. Happy birthday, too (well I'm kinda hoping I get to post this in time for your birthday). And see you soon.

I know, it's raining. . .

Okay, so it's storming outside and I'm at the office. I so wanna go home--and I do feel I shouldn't have come in the first place. I hate to be here more because of the fact that more than half of my co-workers are not.

So, to ease away the frustration and the cold, I decided to just . . . write. Thanks to my the trusty laptop of my dear officemate, by the way.

What to write then? I decided I could go on through another 30-day challenge. This time, I'd do one of those that my friends are already doing: the 30-letters challenge. These are:

Day 1 — Your Best Friend
Day 2 — Your Crush
Day 3 — Your parents
Day 4 — Your sibling (or closest relative)
Day 5 — Your dreams
Day 6 — A stranger
Day 7 — Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush
Day 8 — Your favorite internet friend
Day 9 — Someone you wish you could meet
Day 10 — Someone you don’t talk to as much as you’d like to
Day 11 — A Deceased person you wish you could talk to
Day 12 — The person you hate most/caused you a lot of pain
Day 13 — Someone you wish could forgive you
Day 14 — Someone you’ve drifted away from
Day 15 — The person you miss the most
Day 16 — Someone that’s not in your state/country
Day 17 — Someone from your childhood
Day 18 — The person that you wish you could be
Day 19 — Someone that pesters your mind—good or bad
Day 20 — The one that broke your heart the hardest
Day 21 — Someone you judged by their first impression
Day 22 — Someone you want to give a second chance to
Day 23 — The last person you kissed
Day 24 — The person that gave you your favorite memory
Day 25 — The person you know that is going through the worst of times
Day 26 — The last person you made a pinky promise to
Day 27 — The friendliest person you knew for only one day
Day 28 — Someone that changed your life
Day 29 — The person that you want tell everything to, but too afraid to
Day 30 — Your reflection in the mirror

I hope to the heavens I'd get to finish this one. I may not strictly follow the everyday requirement but I sure would try my best to get to the last "day".

Wish me luck then!

I just need to get this out . . .

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Damn rich people who think they could manipulate others into saying sorry even if no harm was actually done. Damn them who think their financial status defines the amount of respect that should be given to them, no matter how much they don't deserve even a shed of politeness.

Look, I know what I'm getting myself into when I signed into this -- whatever you call this that I do. But never, ever, ever, have I felt that I should be forced into inferiority when I know the other party is not even a step higher than me.

Come on, I may be on the servicing side but that doesn't mean you can demand from me even the deliberate lowering of my dignity.

Because in the first place, you do not deserve it.

Until the Very End

Exactly eleven years ago, my childhood was turned completely around by my desire to receive a letter. I'm sure you very well know what kind of letter I'm talking about. That which is contained in an envelope where an address is written in slanting, tiny letters. That which would take you to a place filled with everything you could only dream of.

I hoped, just like every child my age, that one day I would wake up to an owl post.

And in most ways, when I look back from where I am now, I guess I got that dream.

I was one of the lucky children in the world to be given the chance to join a world that is filled with magic, goodness, friendship, family, and love. I became, in the tiniest of circumstances, a part of something that defined magic anew.

Along with more than half of the world, I got to enter the world of Harry Potter. From the day he was delivered to the Dursleys with nothing but a lightning scar on his forehead and a marked life ahead, I watched him grow and discover who he really was, fight for his friends, and save the only home he's known from being corrupted by the evil.

Year after year, we waited for his new adventure. We anticipated, knowing he could probably get past anything (heck, he got to "unofficially" battle a troll at the age of 11, didn't he?). With every bit of himself that he shared with us, we developed a kind of friendship that crossed the line between fantasy and reality.

But now, we got to see him end everything. We got to say goodbye, knowing "all is well" now. We got to witness the finale of something we've known since childhood.

We all have to grow up, eventually. Maybe this is one of those times. Must I say, it really is hard to grow up. Especially when one of the things you gotta do is let go and just commit to memory your happy times as a child. And Harry-time was, is and will always be, a happy one for me.

This is a difficult post to complete, I should admit. I ought to be saying goodbye, that's why. I logged in thinking about bidding farewell, acknowledging an end, and accepting he fact that I gotta let go now. But like everybody else, I find it difficult to the point of being heartbreaking.

What do you say after eleven years of emotionally and psychologically investing into something like Harry Potter? Nothing, I guess. This is a wordless stint, something you cannot easily describe. And perhaps, it will always be like this.

And I would always be back. To the place I call home, to the walls of pure magic, to the world where everyone gets accepted.

I would always be back, at night when I have a hard time sleeping. In any time of the day when I have nothing to do. At any moment when I just want to feel warm.

Because the child in me would always be there. No matter how much I've grown, matured, or learned. That child who waited for an owl by her window would always be within me.

Until the very end.

I knew this was going to happen . . . (is this even an original title?)

I could use a fully-functioning brain, you know.

A blank stare, a loud sigh, and then a surrendered shrug.

Have you ever tried to gear up for a marathon only to find out that you don't really want to be in there and so, before the signal to start was fired, you just turn your back and leave? You leave, all the while feeling the regret welling up inside you.

That's how I feel every time I open any of my (purely writing) blogs and try to haul out words about worthy topics. I sign in and click the "New Post" button with enthusiasm only to realize that my brain is all the while immobile.

I'm not saying I'm good at what I do, nor that my lack of written stuffs would drastically affect the world at large. It's just that I'm quite disappointed with myself; I worry that maybe I'm not anymore as eloquent or that maybe I'm now living a way too dull life to write about it.

Hopefully, things start brightening up a bit. I'm trying my best, reading good finds for inspiration, and channeling many of life's excitement. Wish me luck.

Somebody grew up . . . yet again.

Tuesday this week, as I went out of the bathroom draped in a colorful towel, I saw my sister clad in her college uniform. She was waiting for me so I could close the door after her. I watched her leave and walk through the street, head bowed against the soft wind. And I thought about how it was just yesterday when we were wearing matching red-checkered school skirt--hers for grade schoolers and mine for the high school girls.

Sometimes it's hard to imagine life moves on at all. Especially when you have nothing at all that conspicuously grows and changes--like Saturday routines or the arrangement of your bedroom.

And then you become arrested by an apparent change, like a car going through a straight road and then suddenly comes to a swerving point.

I like those times, when life shatters the very ground I'm standing on. It makes me move as fast as I can, develop, grow. It makes me change what is there is to alter.

Some things I really knew was going to happen. Some things I did expect but still managed to shock we good. Maybe life really is like this: we may or may not plan yet things will keep on happening.

Survival is the Key

Ambilis natapos ng summer! Akalain mo, isang outing pa lang ang napupuntahan ko, bigla na lang nag-uulan. Tapos isang araw, nakakita na ko ng mga batang naka-uniform.

Panahon nga naman. Pabagu-bago, takbo nang takbo.

At ngayon, pasukan na naman. Which, of course, makes me reminiscent of how life has been when I was still in school. Kung nabasa n'yo ang Bob Ong-inspired posts ko dati tungkol sa elementary, high school, at college life ko, yun na yun.

Lately, lang, may tao akong nakilala na nagpaalala sa'kin ng tungkol sa college life ko. 'Di naman s'ya ga'nong importante. In fact, ayoko sa kanya (sabihin na lang nating ayoko ng masyadong mahangin na panahon). Pero dahil araw-araw n'ya ko halos nako-corner, wala akong choice kundi makipagkwentuhan sa kanya.

Tungkol saan?

Tungkol sa paano ako/kami nakalabas nang buhay mula sa Unibersidad ng Pilipinas.

Ang UP, sabi nila, mahirap pasukin. Pero, mas mahirap lumabas galing do'n. Katakut-takot na pahirap, pasakit, at problema ang naranasan ko bago ako nakalabas ng UP. Hindi ko sasabihing gano'n ako katalino o ka-husay. Ma-diskarte ako nang kaunti, pero ang talagang nakatulong sa'kin? Believe it or not, katamaran. Totoo!

At para sa lahat ng katulad ko, some tips:

1. Ang Math 11 ay simpleng Algebra lang.

- Promise. Kahit na 4 ang grade ko at kahit kinailangan ko pang mag-exam ulit para maka-tres, madali lang ang Math 11. Minsan kasi, iniisip lang ng mga estudyante: Math 11 'to. . . Math 11 'to . . . mahirap 'to. Pero kung bubuklatin mo talaga 'yang module mo, Algebra lang talaga ang laman.

2. 50% ng trabaho ng prof mo ang takutin ka.

- Wagas na wagas. May mga prof na akala mo gano'n katapang. First day pa lang kasi ng klase, rules na agad ang binabanggit. Bawal ganito, bawal ganyan. Pag na-late ka ng 3 beses, bagsak ka na. Pag na-late ka ng 1 minuto sa pagpasa ng paper, INC ka na. Pero ang totoo, nadadaya ang oras at mas nale-late pa sila. The secret? 'Wag pasisindak. Mas tinatakot ang nagpapatakot. Kaya 'pag tinanong ka, sagot lang nang walang kurap, 'wag manginginig. Kahit 'di mo alam ang sagot, paikut-ikutin mo lang--sa pagkalito ng prof mo, 'di ka na makokontra.

3. Adrenaline ang pinaka-magandang source of creativity.

- Kapag alas-singko na ng umaga at ang report mo ay para sa klase mo na alas-syete, pustahan tayo lahat ng magagandang ideas parang ulan na bubuhos galing sa utak mo. Ang mga thesis drafts at paper ko dati, nagagawa ko lang 'pag isa-submit ko na. Yung tipong magsi-skip pa ko ng class para lang matapos ang pagta-type at pagpapa-print. O kaya, di ako matutulog para matapos ko.

4. Ang final exam ay mas madali kaysa lahat ng exam mo buong sem.

- Noong nag-aaral ako, dalawang exam lang ang pinag-aaralan ko bawat subject: 1st long exam at final exam. May mga subject kasi na parang promo ang finals, 'pag naipasa mo ang 2 o lahat ng long exams, wala nang finals. Ang problema, yung 2nd at 3rd LE, kaluluwa mo ang kapalit. Pero ang final exam, kahit buong sem pa ang coverage, multiple choice lang. O, diba! So, "thanks but no thanks" ang sagot ko lagi sa promo na 'yan.

5. Importante ang groupmates.

- Hindi lahat ng subject requirements, kaya mong mag-isa. Kailangan mo ng groupmates, o kahit partner man lang. Lalo na 'yung mga bibo kids, 'yung mga ayaw ng basta-bastang grade lang. At lalo na kung ang sistema ay hatian ng trabaho: 10% lang sa'yo pero same grade. Okay nang set-up yun.

6. At eto ang the best: Biyaya ng Diyos ang tres.

- Ipagpasalamat mo, naka-tres ka. 'Yung iba nga, kwatro lang o mas malala, singko. 'Wag nang choosy, pag-akyat pa lang sa tres, nakakapagod na. Buwis-buhay na ang uno, pang-mataas na pangarap. Kaya 'pag ang prof mo nagbigay ng tres para sa buong sem kung saan isang exam lang ang naipasa mo at 2 papers lang ang na-ibigay mo, 'wag nang umangal--anghel ang prof na 'yun.

Isipin mo na lang: 3 o another 6 months of the same subject (+ 750php pa)?

Simple lang naman ang buhay-Peyups. Basta matapang ka, kaya mo silang lahat. Kahit pala-absent ka, basta kumpleto mo ang requirements, buhay ka na. 'Wag kang papadaig sa sinasabi nilang UP ka, dapat magaling ka. Dahil ang UP, hindi naman hangad na pahirapan ka. Ilalabas lang lahat ng nasa loob mo. Wala kang dapat patunayan kahit kanino, kailangan mo lang maniwala sa sarili mo. Tandaan mo, above everything else, freedom to live ang the best lesson na makukuha mo from the University. Gamitin mo ang freedom na 'yan para umunlad pansarili at para sa iba.

Survival is the key. Kakainin lang ng buhay ang mga nagpapakain.

Unprecedented

I was watching Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince the other day. And, well, something just hit. I felt it while watching Harry and Hermione's dance inside their tent.

It was one of those moments that I've learned to hate--mainly because they trigger memories. They make me remember things I've sworn to forget. They make me want to try and believe again that some stories, like the one we could've had, really can happen. That at some point, friends can turn their relationship into something deeper--better.

But then again, I know sometimes, they're also bound to fail. Like what happened to ours.

And I have accepted that, believe it or not. I have understood that we really couldn't have made it work. Maybe, if I've accepted that long ago, we needed not to go through all the pain. Maybe I needed not to hate you or her or the situation. Maybe it didn't hurt me to look ahead, knowing that I'm leaving behind everything that would've made me happier.

It's not fair, I tell myself over and over. It isn't fair that I seem stuck wherever I am right now while you have evidently moved forward. It isn't fair that many times, I still look behind me whenever I cross the street, out of habitually knowing that you're just there to look out for me. It isn't fair that in the many celebrations that I come to honor, I still expect to get even an SMS from you.

But thankfully, I was able to get over the most part. I got to realize I wasn't fair, too. I wasn't being fair to you, whose being loving enough should be known to me more than anyone else. And I wasn't being fair to myself, for adding more to the pain than what should be there.

I must admit it was difficult, though. Until now.

Until now, when I see a guy and a girl treat each other as bestfriends. Until now, when I watch movies who have the same plot as our story. Until now, when people ask me about love and life. Until now, when I come across a couple playing with their child.

I don't hate you, by the way. I guess I never could feel that toward you. I still owe you way too much to hate you. Maybe even if we get the chance to repeat things and you still do what you did--choose what you've chosen. I don't hate you, I just hate the fact that what happened has happened.

Hopefully though, time would come when I wouldn't even think of writing something like this. I wouldn't feel a pang, however smallishly sharp. And if we could help it, hopefully we bring back even a quarter of what we've had before. I'd like that, to be honest.

Really like that.

It takes time, definitely. A long, long time.