ARABELLA JANE

“Damn it, how will I ever get out of this labyrinth”

(John Green, Looking for Alaska)

As I write my final piece, I can’t help but get fast flashes of my life before my eyes. Was my life well lived? Was there a time where I was scared to die because I was genuinely happy? Was there a time that I was really loved? Was there a time that I never thought of being depressed again? I know that deep inside myself, the answer would be no. 

25 years and 85% of that was me picking myself together only to be broken again. It’s a never-ending vicious cycle and tonight, my choice is to give up. No one ever took me seriously, I was never a person to any of the men I loved, I’m merely a tool for their character development. As Callie Torres would say, “You don’t destroy the person you love,”.  

Every time I chose to embrace happiness, the universe would throw a cosmic joke to crush me over and over again. 

Perfect Storm

I woke up to the sound of raindrops falling on the ground. The cold mist of July filled every inch of my being. Another day of despair, another day of hopelessness, another day of broken promises. The universe failed her; she didn’t deserve to go.

She’s my person and you took her from us. Part of me died along with her. We had plans. We had lots of things to talk about. You took the one person who believed in me when I wasn’t as brilliant as I am now. You took the person who never judged me for who I am.

Why would you put someone in my path only to take them away? She did not deserve that. You were in control or so I thought.

King of Thieves

To the person who left me hanging.

I hope you’re happy. You never cared, you left me to rot in a catastrophe you started. Every action was always in favor of you, everything is all about you. I never mattered, what I want and need never mattered. I can never rationalize why you treated me like an object after promising me the sun, the moon, and the stars. I hope you’re happy with the person you’re seeing right now. 

It’s funny how you told me your back story and ended up doing the same to me without an ounce of guilt nor remorse. I know you sleep well at night knowing that you got even with the pain that the universe gave you— by hurting me. You chose to torture me in my most vulnerable state.

You stole something from me that can never be eased with half-baked apologies. I used to believe in fate, magic, and fairytales. Now I am but a dark cloud of despair. To say that you wronged me is an understatement. You chose to destroy whatever hope I have left in my being.

Straight and Fast

I’m a lost cause, I’m beyond repair. I could only get pushed around so much to accept defeat from the long battle of pain, depression, and trauma that the universe gave me. I am officially giving up. Enough is enough. 

This long slow year gave me ample time to think if life is still worth it.; One good day is far from reach. I am a sink with an open drain. Every word from people who cares about me just goes down as much as I want to hold on to it. I don’t see the point of going on.

I will never be good enough no matter how much I wanted the good things in life. The universe would be a better place without me in it. I’m one less person for them to betray. My wants or needs never mattered. I don’t have the right to be completely happy, if I do, god or the universe would find a way to fail me. 

It makes me wonder whether or not I am a child of a lesser god who is too busy to hear my cries or prayers. I’d like to believe that I’m not a bad person to deserve this pain every waking moment. Yet, here I am with tears in my eyes writing this.

Great perhaps no more 

The darkness in my mind creeps and scuttles, shoots from shadow to shadow, dark-to-dark. It abhors the light, as the light abhors it. Yet they are forever connected in an endless finite curve. For one cannot exist without the other. 

 I’ve been struggling between the light and the dark, the good and the bad. The hero and the villain. I have different morals, different senses of right and wrong. One without the other becomes meaningless. 

Upright: sudden upheaval, broken pride, disaster, 

Reversed: disaster avoided, delayed disaster, fear of suffering

Major Arcana Series

They say that Tarot cards follow the flow of time; now let me riddle you this, do you believe in fatalism?

I shuffled my tarot deck and decided to draw one card per week. Whatever card appears, respective to its position, I will write and associate my thoughts about such.

Today the card I draw was the tower in reversed position.

Over a month ago, our professor asked us why we decided to go to Law School during my legal ethics class. As always, I was the first one to be called. I introduced myself like normal and gave my generic answer concerning why I pursued this difficult, life-changing course.

But here's the twist, our professor wanted to know our deep whys. It caught me off guard. It was a question that I never saw coming. Now there I go trying to defend the generic answer I gave, which made me start to stutter. So I said, I'll figure it out.

That's a difficult question to ask if one is not ready to hear my answer; you see, I was never an open book. I'm at my most vulnerable with the people I trust. That's why you can only fuck me over once, and after that, you're dead to me. The phrase "for old times' sake" never applied to me.

For the longest time, I never knew how to protect myself. I've always been the prey that predators feast on. As of writing, I am diagnosed with PTSD and depression. What compelled me is when these predators hurt the people I love and watch them suffer. At that point, I decided out of self-love. I will not be anyone's victim anymore. Hence, I took a gamble and pursued the course.

I took a deep breath, count backwards to 10….9….8….7…. as everything goes black. I woke up 48 hours later with nasty needles planted through my veins. I tried to speak but no voice came out. I figured that they had to poke a hole in my neck to help me breathe—just like what happened on the first surgery.

It makes me wonder why of all people, why does it have to be me? Statistically speaking, 1 in every 10 women is affected by the polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) — and there I was, carrying such, the only difference is that I’m one of those who got the worst type, there was a huge mass that has to be removed. Before the second surgery, I was anxious. I can’t calm down at all. What if I don’t wake up? What about my dreams of becoming a lawyer? What about my future? All those questions took a huge toll on my mental health. It seems like it all ends here. It was not something I saw coming this year.

Thankfully, despite my weird reaction to anesthesia, I woke up. The post-op is the worst. Everything hurts. I feel like mush that can’t even do the basic routine I used to do. One of the advice that was given to me was to stay away from stress triggers.

Her screams filled the air; the smell of liquor and Marlboro red filled the room along with the unwanted penetration between her legs that won’t seem to halt no matter how loud her NO is.

In a blurry sight, obstructed by her tears, she can see that there’s no way out. With the bit of strength she gained, she tried to fight them off, only to get her neck burned with a cigarette like she’s an ashtray. 

Finally, hey stopped along with a warm bodily liquid and her stripped dignity. 

Bruised and abused, they dragged her close to home, alcohol poisoned, almost dead – with nothing left of her the moment she opens her eyes.

In the days the followed, she would look at herself in the mirror and try to cover up that scar she obtained. She slowly disconnected her soul from her body to avoid the pain and make life livable again. She was never the same. She wished she was dead every surviving day of her life.

“It wasn’t my fault I prefer women over men. No person deserved what happened to me”, she said, as she drank a shot of whiskey. She swore to God that she would come after them. They will regret the night they didn’t put that bullet in her head.

She went to study law.

Dear You,

"I won't just disappear out of the blue without proper goodbyes," said the person who recently ghosted me. If there's a complete thought to describe you right now, YOU ARE THE ABSOLUTE WORST. I wish with all my soul that our paths never crossed in this lifetime.

Of course, even you could not determine why you did what you did. It's as basic as "you're a guy. It's normal." How I wish waking up knowing that I've been 'ghosted' is easy— but no. I have to constantly ask myself whether or not there is something wrong with me. Am I ugly? Am I too thick? Is there something wrong with how I dress? If you only knew how tiring it is to think of the reason why you suddenly disappeared.

You see, all I ever wanted was to keep you happy, satisfied, and your head afloat since law school is beating that crap out of us. Why hurt someone who never intended to cause you harm? Does it make you sleep well at night?

If only ghosting constitutes an offense under moral turpitude, I doubt that you'll ever achieve your sacred dream; let me remind you that bad karma is just around the corner, and it will come to you when you can't do anything about it anymore.

Time doesn't heal things. You left a void in my heart that I'll carry with me, always.

With all my resentment,

An excerpt from the novel, Looking for Alaska stated that Thomas Edison’s last words were “it’s very beautiful over there,” I don’t know where there is, but I believe it’s somewhere, and I hope it’s beautiful.

My world revolves around sleepless nights, self-love, and apathy. The way I see it, investing attachments to people is tantamount to them inflicting pain on you. As for my defense mechanism, the only way to avoid such is to withhold affections.

Close to, but not entirely. I always wanted to know how it feels to be confident– that I am not someone you would abandon for no probable cause. I grew tired of being hard on myself, questioning whether or not something is missing in me – do I lack the credentials needed (good grades, big dreams, skills, etc.)? Am I not tall enough? Am I too thick? And all the other questions that would lower down one’s self-esteem.

It took time before I was able to accept the fact, based on a handful number of circumstances, that people do what they do if it’s beneficial for them and assume no responsibility for the pain they inflicted. It’s just a matter of time healing things in their greedy perspective – that I’ll eventually move on and forget things like nothing happened. I wish it were that easy; if it were, I wouldn’t be the most apathetic person there is, right?

Believe it or not, I am longing for a life where I could taste the bliss in this never-ending abyss— the state of things where everything is just good enough for me to feel human.

I wanted to know how it feels to be genuinely happy. I tried to wake up, not worrying about being abandoned just because I’m not good enough, take me to Utopia that I’m longing for because I know it’s beautiful over there.

Strings

To the only attachment I had

I remember the day I first saw you, I felt a lingering buzz in my veins, and I knew at that moment you got me. You were the one.

I was so eager to get into you, and I even passed your qualifying test to prove that I am worthy of being with you. You were the first one who reciprocated the love I could offer, and you made me feel that I have a purpose — it felt like I was something in the midst of nothing.

You brought me to places I thought I could never reach; you introduced me to genuine enough people to support me with my ambition. Being with you felt like home. You were my haven. I knew I was good enough when I have you.

As time went by, your expectations from me placed me under deep pressure. You have become too demanding of my time, you gave me sleepless nights, and it felt toxic to the point that I wanted to leave you.

But I can’t. I tried. I am too attached that I don’t have the ample strength to walk out of the door. You were the only one who witnessed me cry and break down. 

You opened my heart for attachments, and I learned how to take a leap of faith in trusting people. You witnessed my growth as a person; you made me see the version of me which I failed to see in myself, and for that, I would eternally be grateful.

Not we are at the point wherein we should part ways. It breaks my heart to detach myself from the only attachment I had. We have to move on and live independently.

I know that I am just one of the many editors you had in your lifetime, but to me, you are the only publication that made a mark on me, and I will always find myself coming back to you.

With love,

Today, the song "Titibo-tibo" by Moira Dela Torre is on Spotify's top hits in the Philippines. It has a sweet melody and a catchy tune -- may be enough for you to have the last song syndrome (LSS).

Sweet as it may seem, I find the lyrics troublesome because of how it portrays homosexuality lightly. The lyrics showed how someone's preference could be altered just because of a man's effort. According to John Mychal Feraren's article on Claire Delfin Media, homosexuality is not something that desires to be changed even by the purest intentions of love. As it is, homosexuality is to be accepted, not altered, just to conform to society's standards.

"Walang matigas na tinapay sa mainit na kape ng iyong pagmamahal," did this discourse claim that one's gender could be altered because of lowkey kiligs? Because I do believe that the concept of love is deeper than that.

This goes out to girls like me who have a different taste of preference -- how many times did you encounter a guy saying that he'll make you straight? Doesn't it bother you how society sees bisexuality/homosexuality as a phase?

This song's catchy tune validated the stereotyping of lesbians/bisexuals that our gender is a phase to conform with society's standards -- which is so wrong on too many levels. We are valid, and having a "man" who would pamper you won't make you straight. 

“I go to seek a great perhaps,” those were Francois Rabelais last words according to John Green’s novel, looking for Alaska. I also have those words written on my wrist as a reminder not to give up on seeking my great perhaps

2017 was an emotional roller coaster for me. It welcomed me with a new job as an Art Director, I had what I thought a decent heterosexual relationship, I become the Head Layout Artist of our University’s publication, I earned my highest General Weighted Average (GWA), and lastly, I was part of the group that produced one of the Best Thesis of the school year.

Somewhere along the way, they were taken to me one by one. The relationship didn’t grow-- I just lost trust and got tired of it, the hard drive that contains my client projects got corrupted and I was involved in an incident that might ruin my future such as my graduation and law school admission.

I came to a point where I attempted to kill myself because things were too much for me to handle, everything seems to have a no existing solution. I kept on breaking down, I was stuck in the maze of catastrophe and can’t find my way out.

Every drip of margarita and sorts alcoholic beverages in my system served as my temporary release and every puff of Marlboro ice blast was my form of coping mechanism. There were days wherein I would go out not eating anything.

But what kept me going is that there are people who never left me at my worst. Some even prioritized my happiness over theirs. They would even say how much I’m valued. For once I felt that there are people who genuinely care about me regardless of where I first met them.

No words could explain how grateful I am for the people around me who never gave up when I have given up on myself. This 2018, I know that I’m a stronger person.

Nothing is certain in the upcoming days but I am claiming that this year would be in favor of me. This is the version of me bidding goodbye to my weak self. This is me opening my arms to the great perhaps that I would encounter along the way. Adios 2017, Bienvenido 2018!

Battling depression is challenging work to do. It is part of my daily routine. Every day, I try to convince myself that a good day is about to come, things will be over soon, I can do this.

I tried to do what I think is right, and right now, things are about to fall apart. The possibility of me not entering law school due to the events happening right now is high. The chance of me not graduating is also at stake.

I tried my best to be a good person, yet I failed many people around me. I hope I was born in an era where you could redeem yourself once you made a mistake and regretted it. Unfortunately for me, I was in a place where you get condemned once you act against the protocols -- even if it is unintentional. I always felt like there is no room for mistakes. 

I wrote this to show how tired I am, and I just wanted to rest. I’m tired of trying. I’m tired of not being heard. I’m tired of society condemning you for your unintentional mistake and your poor decisions in life.

Intersection  (in·ter·sec·tion) /n/

a point or line common to lines or surfaces that intersect.

To the person who had me at my bestDear You,

Ages ago, I used to believe that we had the right Love at the wrong time. We were young, naive, and immature to venture into the world of relationships. I always imagined my future of being with you in this lifetime. At one point, I told myself that you were “the one.”

Those days we had was a time well spent. I was the best version of myself when I’m with you– cheerful, full of dreams, and an overachiever.

But just like any book, no matter how good it is, there’s always an ending. We somehow landed in an open-ended scenario.

Years passed. I realized that I became the worst version of myself due to the scars I received from people who took me for granted. I become someone who I never thought I’d be.

I can still recall the look of disappointment when you saw me smoking a cigarette. Maybe it dawned on you that I’m no longer the person I used to be.

Then my worst day came– You popped out to nowhere at the right place at the right time. You somehow become the beacon of hope to the version of myself who is about to fall apart.

I wanted to cry and pour it all out. I was so devastated to let go of the one attachment I had in my new school. Your words moved me like a diamond scratched another diamond.

No words can express how grateful I am to know that you somehow care. It is enough to keep me going, Enough to make a stand that someone believes in the best version of me.

I’m so proud of you for doing something in your life that matters. I want you to know that whatever you do, I will support you with all my heart.

With Love,

Asymptote  (as·ymp·tote) /n/

a line that continually approaches a given curve but does not meet it at any finite distance.

To the person who made me believe we had something more

Sweet words + kind touches + caring heart, that was the formula that made me believe we were never meant to fall apart. It was enough to make me believe that there’s more of you and I, enough to make me assume that I was special in your eyes, enough to lure me in that you were a taste of bliss in this never ending abyss.

As I close my eyes and feel the cold breeze of September, I played your favorite song, “Forever and never”. I felt the warmth of your embrace and the memories we made no one could erase.

For once I felt like whole, you filled the void of my broken soul. “I am ready to trust again” I said, as we had our first kiss and my tears began to shed.

We both know that you and I should stay friends, because that way we can reassure that what we have right now won’t end. Maybe there is an existing timeline in the central finite curve where you and I were meant for each other, a reality where we lived happily ever after and a world where asymptotes lines meet.

With Love,

“What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person,” Q said in John Green’s novel, paper towns.

There is nothing special when we first met, I felt nothing, to be honest. I thought meeting you was a one-time thing and we’d never see or talk to each other again. That was what I had in mind. I was wrong about it– in all aspects. It’s funny how you turned out to be the ‘something’ in the middle of ‘nothing’.

Well, of course, I know for a fact, from the very start that you cannot reciprocate how I feel towards you. Things will never happen the way I picture you and I. So I was in your special place called ‘the friend zone’.

‘She’ was also a huge factor, of course, I know it’s too late for me. Even the things that I can offer you will never be enough for you to see me the way you see her. And you’re still attached to each other, right?

Alas, never mind my loneliness, what matters is your happiness. I do appreciate the friendship we have right now. To be honest about it, I don’t know where this is exactly going.

You would definitely leave a scar once you decided to be gone– just like everyone else. But acceptance is always the way out, right?

Dear You,

I’m sorry that the love, affection, time, and attention I gave him were not enough to replace you. I’m sorry for believing that I can be like you. I’m sorry I had to exist between you two. I never knew how powerful you are till now, and I’m so sorry.

I’m not aware of the kind of girl you are nor the type of love story you had with him -- all I know is that no matter what I do, I’ll never move him as you do.

To be a guy’s “first girl” is a real deal, and I respect that. Just so you know, I am not here trying to compete with you, and I’ll lose, I know it. No matter what I do, he’ll choose you. 

Your existence in his life badly hurts me, and it’s not your fault. Nothing will ever be your fault. I am the one to blame because I came into his life too late. I came into his life when he was picking up the pieces of his broken heart. I came into his life when he declared that he doesn’t want to feel things anymore. I came into his life when he needed a friend. -- and he failed to see the kind of love I was willing to offer him.

Time will come, and if he still chooses you, I beg you to take care of him this time. He is the kind of man I was longing for, and you are lucky enough to have him. Please keep him safe if he chooses you again.

Sincerely yours,

“At some point, you just pull off the band-aid, and it hurts, but when it’s over, you are relieved,” Miles Halter said in John Green’s novel Looking for Alaska.

While the world is busy preparing for Christmas Eve, I was in my room, throwing away mementos from people I lost along the way. Leaving them in 2015 was the smartest thing to do. I thought it would be easy until I came across a necklace with a ring pendant.

I can still recall the memories attached to that object. It came from a person who impacted my life that made me who I am today. She is my long-term girlfriend, who I dated for almost two years. It has been eight months since I last heard from her. We never had closure. I am still mad because she just left me hanging.

Some questions need answers. December 21, when I took the risk of leaving her a message, hoping that she would not ignore me. I told her that I wanted to see her one last time to make peace and forgive her. To my surprise, she replied. She said that maybe this is the right time for me to know the truth because I deserve it.

While I was on the way to our meeting place in Makati, I was half excited and half nervous. I had my what-ifs and so on. I bought her a white rose because that is what I use to give her before. I entered a tea house and patiently waited for her. An hour passed and still no signs of her. I was starting to get upset.

My fear that she might not meet me ended when I saw her parked her black Honda Civic car in front of the tea house. As she entered, I was surprised, and I offered her a seat. I ordered our all-time favorite, which is Okinawa milk tea.

“You look so beautiful,” I said as I gave her the white rose. She just smiled at me. We had some small talks asking her how she has been since we last met. She said that she is somehow struggling with the new life she has but, in the end, things will get better.

When she was explaining why she left me hanging before, I cannot help myself but feel sorry for her. The anger that I have been keeping for months was relieved. She made me realize that I am lucky that I did not end up like her.

Before we bid our goodbyes, I handed her the necklace with the ring pendant and told her that that is my way of saying that I forgive her for all the pain she caused me back then.

 Dear You,

In my darkest hour, you came like a drizzle, slowly turning into a hurricane. As my tears run down my cheeks from a heartbreak that made me feel that I am not worthy of being truly loved anymore, you offered your shoulder for me to vent everything out. You took your handkerchief and wiped my tears, as well as my makeup, and you saw my imperfection. You ignored it, and you said that I’m still beautiful.

Every morning, your name always pops up on my phone, greeting me with good morning messages and words of encouragement. You are attracted to damaged people, if I may conclude. You were so superb in cheering me up no matter how big or small my frustrations are, and I have to admit, I somehow got used to it.

When I needed someone to talk to, you would always volunteer yourself. I remembered that time when we were at the circle, sharing a pack of cigarettes, we’d tell each other our stories, and there was no dead air– I did not notice that it was already 6 AM. It was one of the most valuable times I had in my entire life, thanks to you. You kissed my forehead as you escort me to my house. Never before have I felt that “kilig” vibe again.

Your Aussie accent, the way you smile, your chinky eyes, your tan skin and all, everything about you is so perfect. I was fortunate that I get to know someone like you.

I was so genuinely happy being with you. It felt like my scars healed in an instant. The sad part was when reality started to kick in. You were just a band-aid solution to my open wound.

I was severely hurt when I found out that you have a girlfriend. Trust me, I cried that night and decided to keep an icy distance from you because that is the most suitable thing to do. I know how it feels to be cheated on, that’s my way of paying respect to your relationship with her.

I wouldn’t say that I was just another stick from your pack because that is not the kind of man you are. The little great perhaps we had was genuine. I felt your sincerity and desire to help me recover from the heartbreak I had. I am eternally thankful for that, for our little great perhaps, for all the times we had at the circle, for all the cigarettes we smoked, and for everything 

Never will I forget that there was you who somehow eased the pain. That there was you who helped me through. I have to say this, I do like you, and sometimes, impossible as it may seem, I wish I was her, and you were mine. She’s so lucky to have someone like you. 

Sincerely yours,