A Potpourri of Thoughts

“You mustn’t give your heart to a wild thing. The more you do, the stronger they get, until they’re strong enough to run into the woods or fly into a tree. And then to a higher tree and then to the sky.” - Holly to Doc Golightly

Rupert Brooke was right. Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.

I've been doing a lot of things for the past 7 months - things that do not involve my blog and social media. Pursuing a creative life has always been my goal, but these days, a lot of people assume that you can only do so if you do it online so I wanted to make a change. The past 7 months have been fruitful and I am happy to say that I have proven myself that I can lead a creative life even without my blog. I've attached my identity and life too much in my blog for a decade so it is such a breath of fresh air to realize that I can do other fulfilling things without it.

A long time ago, I was a victim of sexual harassment. I think it was 6 or 7 years ago... It wasn’t totally a secret, but as much as possible, I try to forget about it. Because remembering it used to be painful. And what made it even more painful was - it was done to me by a close friend. It was the worst betrayal...

I also don’t want to talk about it because some people have already told me I should just shrug it because I wasn’t raped anyway... Fuck those people.

I used to have two close friends. These people became my shelter during my teenage years. I was living with my relatives and I rarely see my parents during those years. My grandparents were strict. Really strict. I was not allowed to do a lot of things. So when I became friends with these two people, they became my substitute parents. They are husband and wife, by the way.

Anyway, we’ve been through a lot and they were the first two people who really helped me when I decided to leave home. They took care of me when I got deadly sick. They comforted me when I was dealing with a lot of problems at home. They were always there. Yes, they were always there for me.

Fast forward years later, I was already living away from my grandparents. My parents were fine with it because they knew I was living with these ‘close friends’. 

One night, my other friend, the wife, was on a night shift. So it was just me, her husband, and another girl who is the wife’s cousin. I was beside my friend’s cousin before I fell asleep. The husband was meters away from me.

Anyway, while I was sleeping, I felt something touch my body. I believe it was past 3 AM. I sleep like a log when I’m extremely tired so I thought I was just dreaming. I stiffened when I felt a hand on my legs. I thought it was just a dream so I disregarded it. Several minutes later, I sensed the hand again and it was already touching my private parts.

I stiffened and opened my eyes. 

I was facing my friend’s cousin and she was asleep. I knew whose hands they were. I just couldn’t move. I was afraid what he’d do to me...

It went on for several minutes and I just couldn’t utter a word. My heart was already racing. Thinking about it makes me sick.

Until I managed to move and push the hand away but he kept on doing it. Finally, I hyperventilated. I had a panic attack and I sounded awful. My friend’s cousin who was beside me suddenly woke up and asked me what happened.

I just cried. I didn’t say anything. I let her assume that I was just having another panic attack. The husband? He sped off the moment I cried.

I told my then boyfriend what happened a few hours later. He advised me to never see these people again. 

So for years, I avoided them. The wife never knew what her husband did to me. 

To be honest, I’ve forgotten about it. But for some time, I battled with PTSD. I didn’t function like a normal girl. I would cry for hours, lock myself inside the room or cabinet. I would have recurring bad dreams. I didn’t want to ride a jeepney and when I am beside another guy other than my then boyfriend, I would hyperventilate. The list goes on. It was awful.

It took me years to actually accept that it happened. I blamed myself. My ex-boyfriend saw everything that happened to me all those years ago. Sometimes, he tried to understand me. Sometimes, he couldn’t. Sometimes, he’d scold me...

The husband and wife eventually left Cebu. We didn’t communicate for several years and now the wife is suddenly back on social media and said Hi.

Now all these memories came rushing to me again. I don’t feel anything anymore. I’m glad that I am over the PTSD thing.

The only thing that is bugging me is if I should tell her what her husband did to me? I don’t want to destroy their marriage. They have two children now. 

So that’s just it. The only battle left. 

It’s been three months since I left Cebu City and I’m glad I don’t miss it. I was really afraid I would feel sad that I no longer have the luxury of time to get out of the house in the middle of the night, pig out in my favorite restaurant, or just chill in the nearby coffeeshops.

This only proves I really was ready to leave the city three months ago. :) Not that its forever. I still have to return to the city every now and then but every time I have to, I no longer feel the same excitement as before.

The urban life doesn’t excite me anymore. 

I have yet to decide where I’m going to live next. I know I can’t stay here at my parent’s house forever. They want me here but they also know that I cannot help myself. Even my Mom told me that she knows I will not stay here forever. I am myself when I live far away.

It’s a bittersweet truth. Ten years without them has shaped me into who I am today. So until my heart can no longer take it to be here, I want to spend more time with my family because they won’t be here forever. It’s scary how quickly time goes by. 

I didn't feel like doing some work today. I just wanted to lie down and stare at the ceiling. I was staring at my laptop hoping for words to come out. I wanted to waste time.

And then suddenly I saw a man outside carrying heavy kitchen utensils, looking for buyers. He was knocking door to door, oblivious to the searing heat of the sun.

It made me feel guilty. Here I am getting paid to waste time and then there's this man desperate to earn something for today. I'm glad someone actually bought something from him.

So I turned to my laptop again. Forced myself to work. And thanked God that I still have a job even though I waste a lot of time.