The first time you told me you liked her, my whole world crashed. I was on the steering wheel, unable to press the brakes and ended up crashing at a tree. The damage was impossibly irreparable but I still managed to live. I managed to walk upright. I almost tripped on my footing when you said her name. I would still even trip even if you didn’t mention her name out loud. Everybody knew, why did you need to be so discreet about it?

I always pretend that I am fine with how things are, but at the end of the day, I wonder what if I didn’t get to know you? Would things turn out differently? Would things turn good for me? Would I live a happier life right now? Maybe. But I was always unhappy with my life. I hated myself most of the time and even if you reciprocated it, maybe it was for the best. I couldn’t love myself and maybe this could destroy us in the end.



For the past two weeks, all I can ever remember is receiving a punch directly to my chest. My vision is blurry with tears staining my cheeks. My father has his fingers clenched into a fist while his jaw is rigid, seething in anger because he cannot believe that his daughter is questioning his knowledge about history.

I will never forget that. I will never forget how he rammed my head to the table, and punched my right temple. Everything is so vivid whenever I close my eyes, and the emotions that ran in my veins when it happened are still there. I am angry with it, angry at the fact that I can’t do anything about it. In my head, all I can ever think of is finishing my degree in chemical engineering. I have one more year left, and I can’t wait to graduate, pass the board exam, get a job and leave this hellhole of a house for good.

A week after my father did that to me, I wanted to kill myself. I was planning on killing myself. I had been skipping classes for two days straight. I wanted to cry my heart out. But most of all, I really¬†really wanted to kill myself. I’ve already been having thoughts in my head on how to kill myself. Should I hang myself? Should I jump on the bridge? Should I overdose in medicine? Should I slit my wrists open and wait for them to bleed out?

I feel so helpless. I want to tell anyone, but I don’t want people to pity me. Only one person in ChE knows what really happened, and she herself can’t even help me. I understand she has her own problems, so I don’t really mind if she can’t help. Whenever my father’s and my paths cross, I want to literally disappear. I don’t want to relive the experience of what he did to me. I don’t even want to tell the reason why he punched me. My brother even told me it was my fault why my father punched me. But it never was, I knew that because any sane parent wouldn’t even dare to hurt their children in the first place. No matter how angry a parent is, they should never ever hurt their children. It’s a lazy way of disciplining your child.

I’m very angry of what my father did to me. He may support me financially, but that is never enough because being a parent does not only entail supporting our needs financially. He even fucking said he gave his everything. Wow, he never even gives a shit whether I kill myself or go depressed–or basically ask how my day went. I can’t still forget what he did, I’m at the brink of my insanity. I don’t have any motivation anymore to go further in chemical engineering. It’s so difficult to move on from what happened.

Let You Go

I’m going to let you go even if it pains me to. I have to do this for myself because you’re poison. I reminisce the days that we spent together and I realised… maybe I’m the only one who is making an effort here, that I’m the only one who treasures the¬†friendship in the first place. So I’m going to let you go because I’m tired, and that is the only thing that can make me feel whole again.

Believe It

“In order for something to happen, you have to first believe it.” I’ve recently been in a hopeless place. My mind always wanders to certain negative possibilities that will likely happen in the future–my guy friend and I won’t be friends anymore. We will just be mere strangers wandering around the world, sometimes thinking at the back of our minds what went wrong and why things didn’t go well in the long run. He had been asking me why I had been cold towards him (but I am actually cold to everyone these days). I wanted to tell him the truth that it’s because I’m so tired of being attached to him and to everyone else. I’ve invested too much feelings caring for people and in the end, I am the only one who ends up getting hurt.

I keep crying everyday, knowing that things won’t be the same anymore. I just feel threatened about everything and I don’t understand what the heck is wrong with me.


My gut feeling always went right. I couldn’t explain why my gut feeling could predict certain moments in my life. It just acts up as if I need to be alert of what will happen in the future, without even telling me why. And when that moment happens, I always end up regretting because I didn’t follow my gut instinct. But then, it was not explainable so I wouldn’t follow something that was way beyond reason.

The first time my gut feeling went right was when I felt that my friend would somehow invite me to study out with him the next day. It was absolutely right. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to open his message and when I did, it was already too late. I didn’t know why I even had that gut feeling in the first place.

I had a lot of gut feelings that went right, and today, I also had a gut feeling that my friend would somehow invite into something–it wasn’t particular–and it went absolutely right. Wow.

Today was absolutely a great day for me. We were, at first, indecisive where to go out and have our little chat or deep conversation or whatever we planned on going to do. But then, I remembered that he actually wanted to try the taco of a taco place so he absolutely agreed to it. I was too astonished in processing the whole thing. I actually ignored his messages for almost half an hour, and then he chatted me once more if I was still there.

I think we had some misunderstanding about the hangout thing. I thought we were going to do it on Friday but then he asked me, “Did we agree on Friday? We didn’t.” I only nodded. Then it was really a hard place to arrive to, so I hitched a ride with him going to the place we agreed to. I kept him waiting for around twenty minutes because we had a misunderstanding where I should be waiting and when I got in his car, he chuckled at me. I was wearing a dark red lipstick and when he saw it, he laughed at me, but not the kind of laugh where he was making fun of me. He sounded so happy.

We were still full from the lunch we ate before we left from our respective houses. We roamed around the place for awhile and finally decided to go to the ice cream shop.

I was about to order a scoop of thick ice cream but then we went to the cake section and it was only worth 50% off! We both grabbed that opportunity. Nothing was sweeter than the taste of a 50% discount. We ate our cakes–he ordered a rainbow cake and I ordered tiramisu–and continued our conversation. I could say it was endless because we kept talking.

It wasn’t like I was the only one who was bringing the conversation, he, too, talked and our conversation never went to boring. We occasionally open our phones, well, he actually did that more than I did but only to look at his Twitter or Facebook. Then, he was hungry so we went to the taco place he wanted to try.

He sounded so lively when he ordered, and I only agreed to whatever he wanted to eat because we were splitting the bill anyway, and I think he was better in deciding what food to eat. We ate beef taco and it was the most delicious taco I’ve ever eaten. It was my first time anyway so it was a biased judgment I guess.

When he saw that the taco serving was tiny, he immediately grabbed the menu and ordered a quesadilla. It was also beef, and damn, it tasted so delicious. We talked in between moments when we ate. There was once, however, when he wasn’t paying attention to what I said, maybe because he was reading something over his phone. Then he told me we would be eating at an expensive ramen store next time when we wouldn’t have any problems. I was excited at the prospect of that, but it would be up to him if he wanted to eat ramen with me.

He told me the kind of place we went to was the kind of place where he would go alone. He has a car so I guess that was easier for him to go anywhere he liked. We went home after, it was nearing six-thirty in the evening. Then we drove on his way home (he’d drop me off before he goes home) and our conversation didn’t stop there. We kept on laughing at the stupid moments we had, sang out loud to sad songs on his playlist. It was a wholesome experience. It felt like my problems never existed in the first place.

This was a totally great day. I didn’t expect he’d agree in the first place when I invited him. And now, he’s already inviting me to the future plans he’s thinking.


I’m trying to hold my temper in.

I suck in a deep breath and try to understand things from his point of perspective. I’ve been holding my temper ever since yesterday, and I feel like I need to let this out once and for all.

I dislike having incompetent outputs, and most especially, I hate having incompetent group mates. I’m so fucking tired of tolerating mediocrity and them expecting that I will just accept it. They need to know that if they settle for less, then we won’t pass the semester.

Four Years;

I started this blog for the sole purpose of making my thoughts tangible. This was my hideout, where I could freely express my opinions and no one would care if it was absurd or if it was disagreeable, because opinions could always be changed and I saw myself, in the form of blog posts, grow into a better or worse person.

I was sixteen when I shared my unrequited feelings over my crush on a guy who was the top of his class. He recently graduated as a Summa Cum Laude, too, from BS Computer Science. I was proud of him because despite his financial problems, he was able to graduate with flying colours. I reread my blog posts pertaining about him, and sufficed to say, I was cringing at all of my silly actions. But hey, we would always be stupid. Life hadn’t given us all the answers. We might cheat during exams but life wouldn’t give us a one-way ticket to success.

And success was something that was solely defined by every person. Maybe winning an eating contest would be a success for someone, or just staying middle-class and working to provide for the family was enough for the other. (But let’s be honest. We all secretly want to be rich.)

After having moved on from my unrequited crush over this guy, here came my senior year in high school and another guy walked into my life. It might have been very obvious that he was the only guy I always kept talking about and rereading blog posts about him made me realize he evoked too much emotions out of me. I actually fell in love for him but I was too young to understand if it was love–or maybe just an infatuation. There were nights when I questioned myself like, “Why didn’t he choose me?”, “Why did I tell him what I truly felt for him?”, and most of all, “Why me?”. I didn’t know if he really did like me, maybe I was assuming a lot of things out of him. Whenever we talked alone, we never addressed the elephant of the room: our unspoken feelings.

I really loved him. I truly loved him. He was so beautiful on the inside, and talking to him made me forget I was ugly or too insecure of myself. He never told me I was beautiful, but when he looked at me I felt that I was. A lot of people noticed during my fourth year in high school that I was blooming into a whole new person. He was one of the people who made me gain my confidence. But that was all in the past now. He never chose me, even after I told him my feelings towards him, and that meant I would never be enough for him. It was okay, I already accepted the fact that we were never meant to even have a relationship to begin with.

It took me almost four years to get over him. I don’t know if it was because I gave everything to him–forgetting to keep a piece for myself–or maybe I was only in love with the idea of him and maybe that was why he left me. That’s the problem, I romanticized the idea of being in a relationship, forgetting that relationships are real and heartbreaks are totally painful and there’s nothing beautiful about it. It’s fucking ugly.

For the past four years I’ve been romanticizing the idea that he would come back or maybe someone would come along better. There wouldn’t be unless if you kept ahold of yourself, and love yourself, and appreciate the people around you. Sometimes though, at the back of my mind, I wished someone would just love me, and hold me close and tell me everything would be okay. I wished someone would just be there for me no matter what but at the end of the day, it’d be me who would look out for myself.

And I wished that someone was the person I’m currently thinking now. It didn’t necessarily mean this person would do it in a romantic way, it’d be too early for me to jump into liking another person, but at least I would still feel valued. Maybe this person values me a lot, but I don’t see it in my own eyes.

If other people at the background would pay attention to our interaction, they could conclude this person I was thinking cared for me more than I even noticed. I was still unsure of what he truly felt towards me, if only I could just ask him away if he cared for me, then I would be in peace. Instead, I’m only left by varying opinions of people I’ve talked to over this situation and they were pretty positive that he cares for me, and that he even likes me more than that (but I’m a hundred percent sure he isn’t).

So for four years, even if I’ve learned a lot when it comes to pressing social issues, I still haven’t learned how to deal with people. How do I deal people that I dislike? That I like? That I’m pining on? I felt stuck. I wanted to be myself, but then I’d have to learn how to tolerate people, not that they’re grating on my nerves, it’s just that there are times where I feel trapped especially when I express my opinion. They suddenly shy away instead of being interested to what I have in my head.

What I disliked most is that the older I grew, the people around me talk about hooking up, falling in love or just be in a relationship even if it isn’t even necessary for them. I guess we people will feel validated if we like someone. I’m not saying not to flirt, but it’s just that the people I’m with only talk about girls and their adorable features. I’m a girl surrounded with men who search for girls on Facebook and stalk the girls’ photos if she’s pretty or not. I don’t hate it, I just hate that I’m trapped and I find no one to get into deep conversations with.

I’m a blubbering mess. This ends my blog post tonight. I’m physically tired.