i wish i was a bit happier with who i am and the people i’m with. everybody’s a bit more happy now that they’ve matured. i wish the same could be said for me

I want you to love me. I want you to love the curve of my nose, or the shape of my fingers. I want you to memorize every strand of my hair, or the grooves on my palms. I want you to count the pores in my face and fall in love with each one of them over and over. I want you to look into my eyes and drown in my love for you.

I want you to love my shapeless body, the lack of curves that plague me with insecurity. I want you to love the various colors on my skin, the lack of muscle. I want you to love the bag of skin and bones that is me. I want you to love every scar, physical and emotional. I want you to kiss them away and never come back.

I want you to love my sadness. I want you to love my imperfection. I want you to love me the way I love you.

I don’t need anything else from you. I just want you to love me.

Dear Black Star,

Whenever I see the rain, a fond memory of you pops up in my head. We were both fifteen then. I was waiting for my ride, and since it was raining, I was holding an umbrella. You were bringing your girl to her ride. I know because I saw you two walking in the rain. My heart broke, but it was broken long ago, so there was nothing left of it to break.

When you went back, you approached me because we had the same stop. I shared my umbrella with you. You tried holding it with me, so you held my hand. Under the protection of that small umbrella, we were shielded from the rain, but also, I was shielded from the things that hurt me.

You see, in that moment, I felt as if you loved me, and so the pieces of my broken heart seemed to go back together. 

I didn’t want it to end. I wanted stay under that umbrella with you forever. But good things end. And when we went our separate ways, the world went back to normal. You didn’t love me. You loved another.

But in my heart, and what will forever be etched in my memory, will be the warmth of your hand holding mine, the soft sound of rain drops falling, your warm laugh, and the feeling that for once, somebody loved me.

Sincerely, a girl

Recently, I found a piece of pink paper while I was cleaning my room. It was a letter to me back in my second year of high school.

The letter said in Visayan:

Dear Patrice,

Hi! Musta na? I hope I can be your friend. Naa ra ko sa imung kilid-kilid, pero dili jud ka kabantay na ko. Kanang, kibaw man ko gamay about nimo. But-an, bright, ug maayo ug English. Sige lang ka gud kag kuyog-kuyog sa imung mga friends mao na dili ko kasturya nimo privately. Taga lain seksyon man ko. Mu sturya man ka nako, dili lang ka kabantay sa akong feelings. So nisuway lang ko ani para mahibaw ka na ganahan ko nimo. Mau ra.

Truly yours, 

JM

In English it would be:

Dear Patrice,

Hi! How are you? I hope I can be your friend. I’m at your side, but you don’t really notice me. Well, I know bits about you. You’re nice, smart, and really good at English. It’s just that you’re always with your friends, so I can’t talk to you privately. So I’m trying this out so that you’ll know that I like you. That’s all.

Truly yours,

JM

I was pretty psyched because I never got stuff like these before. I was going all “I wonder who this guy is” to my friends. Though later that day my friends confessed to me that they made up JM (J and M were the initials of my friends) and asked a guy classmate to write it down for them.

So I was psyched for nothing. 

But nevertheless, I still consider that letter as my very first love letter. It felt so… nice to have somebody be brave enough to write you things like that. I wished that JM was a real person though. We could have been friends. :)

Happy Valentine’s everyone. :)

Does the world stop when you look at her?

Because it does when I look at you.

So you somehow manage to pop up in my life today.

And I want to trust you so badly, but I know I can’t because you’re not that transparent. I don’t totally understand you.

But thank you for popping up in my life anyway.

Because you made me feel special, even if it was only just a fleeting moment.

Hello. It’s been a while since I last tried to ‘communicate’ with you.

You see, life has been keeping me busy, and there are times when I don’t think of you as much as I used to.

But today, I thought of you. For the whole day, my mind only replayed your name, your face, your voice, everything about you.

And for what seemed like a pretty long time, I actually cried when I thought about you. And it’s strange.

Because when life kept me busy, I tried to keep up with its pace. I was so pre-occupied that my emotions, and probably you, were left behind.

But when they do catch up, everything feels intensified. Every nerve feels disturbed with feelings thought to be forgotten, with feelings so familiar yet brand new.

Then you don’t know why, but suddenly you’re hurting. 

So tell me, am I happy?

Because I thought I was, but now I’m not so sure.

pThis is my cousin’s cat, Butchi. He’s a grumpy cat and doesn’t like humans.

This is most probably going to be my last post for 2012, so I would also like to grab the opportunity to thank the people who have seen me change, seen me grow this year.

Thank you to the people who’ve been there.

Let’s make 2013 better.

I don’t like boys who talk sweetly. The ones who are so smooth, who are good with words. Who can just say a sentence, a statement, and charm everyone who meets them. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it- in fact, I think they are blessed with a gift. The gift of gab, maybe? but the thing is, because they’re so ‘smooth’, because they’re so suave, it’s as if they have to rethink or proofread their thoughts. What they say no longer seems sincere. And it’s not nice. How could you be flattered, be happy about something when it’s programmed to make you feel better? When what they say is planned, strategized? I guess I just prefer someone who fumbles with his words, someone who is awkward, but at least sincere. Someone who makes you feel that what he says is true, and it’s not just to gain points with the girl. I guess you don’t have to be smooth. All you have to say is what you really feel and the pieces will all fall down to their place. Merry Christmas. :)

(Source: Patgallardo)

I am very happy with my grades.

They may not be very big, like my other classmates, but I know I worked hard for them. I know that I have these grades because I did my work honestly. 

For all the mathematics-related subjects, I’m quite pleased with myself because I did not commit any act of cheating. I don’t remember trying to dig for answers from my classmates, or write cheatsheets.

I don’t know how to feel about this. I’m so content, and happy.

I have what I have now because of my own effort. This makes me want to do better.

Here’s to the next sem!

(Source: patgallardo)