Good morning, Ma.

I started writing again because everything feels so heavy.

I never knew it would be this hard to carry the grief of losing you. Everything started to crumble around March, slowly exposing parts of me I thought I had already healed. Every corner of the house, every little thing, reminds me of you.

Ang bigat pala, Ma. Ang bigat-bigat.

Mag-iisang taon pa lang, pero pakiramdam ko kahapon lang kita kausap.

I miss you.

I found people along the way, pala.

There was Cy. I don’t think you would’ve liked him very much. At 25, he still didn’t know where he wanted to go or who he wanted to become. We became something, slowly and quietly, until it ended the same way—slowly and painfully. I eventually let him go. He was too childish and didn’t know how to be a man yet.

Then came Hanzel.

Ma, I really liked this one.

He’s a seaman from Cebu. He made me laugh in his own weird little ways. I liked hearing about his day and listening to his stories. He disappeared for a week once and came back as if nothing happened. I tried to understand because I know how difficult his schedule can be.

Things didn’t work out, but somehow, we remained friends.

He said he wanted to see me when he got off the ship.

And I think… you would’ve liked him.

But your daughter has a habit of ruining good things.

Mahilig kasi akong mag-self sabotage, Ma.

I messed things up, and now I feel like he’s slowly distancing himself because of my own stupidity. He was nice. Patient. Older than me. He knew his priorities. He could be childish at times, but I liked that. I liked how cheerful he was around me, how he’d give me updates, and how comfortable he made me feel.

And now, I don’t know.

Bakit ba ang malas-malas ko pagdating sa pag-ibig?

What did I do to deserve this?

Will the right man ever come?

And if he does, will you still somehow get to meet him?

Because if I’m being honest, that’s one of the things that breaks my heart the most. I always imagined introducing him to you. Watching you ask him a hundred questions while I pretend to be annoyed.

I wanted you to be there, Ma.

I wanted you to see me become someone’s wife. I wanted you to tell me if he was good enough for me.

I even cried over him, Ma.

And then there’s Pabs someone I could share my stupidity and weirdness with without ever feeling judged. But even he has started to distance himself, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe I’m the problem.

Am I too much to love?

Sometimes I wonder if grief changed me into someone I no longer recognize.

I miss you.

I miss having someone tell me that everything will be okay.

I hope wherever you are, you’re still watching over me.

Please tell me that one day, all of this will make sense.

I love you, Ma.

Always,