A three word statement

 
I love the way you pay attention when i talk.
you stop, listen, nod and occassionaly comment when needed.
I love the way you smile, fake or not, at my failed jokes.
I love the way you call my name.
I love the way you handle me when I try to sit in front of you.
You keep on asking me to sit beside you.
I love it when you do that, the gesture, made me feel warm and protected.
I love the way you debate or laugh whenever we agree to disagree,
or whenever we end each other's sentences.
I couldn't pay enough attention at times coz you were so charming.
I love sitting next to you, sharing meals and coffee, realizing that 
a day is not enough for the likes of us who never ran out of words and stories.
I love the way you ask me me about how I am getting home.
I love the way you insist on waiting up for me to get inside the cab
before you finally walk to your own ride home.
I love the way you wait up for my message that I am home safe
before you actually go to rest or do another thing.
I love that you always get in front of me whenever we
are about to cross the street.
I love standing next to you, chitchat, then suddenly notice that
I am a midget and you are handsomely giant towering me.
I love the way you say 'you let me know when you are home', although
it may not mean anything more but the normal.
I love the way you look me in the eye as if you are reading my soul -your soul.
I love the way you walk beside me, without any touch of uneasiness
seemingly making me proud to walk beside you as well.

I adore you.

I am having inappropriate feelings towards you. I don't want you 
to admire me, or adore me back.
I want you to make me feel you are having inappropriate feelings towards
me as well.

Using "inappropriate feeling" is 
a safer term than using the four-letter word
to describe this painful thudding inside me eloquently. 
If my life plot is played backwards, 
I know where and when to press the 'pause', 
the 'replay' and of course the 'stop'.
Future is something I don't know how to begin with.
But whatever it is, I hope 
for a chance to sit and walk beside you one day,
in a totally different meaning, and a totally different understanding.
To be yours oneday, someday, forever. Even just in dreams.
I might be too flawed to actually think of a chance of this, of you. 
I might be too damaged to actually hope 
to dream dreams, of you, with you.
I might be too scared to have faith in 
anything but I know that if you are a pin in a haystack, 
I'd be able to pick you in jiffy. 
I don't have this feelings for anyone else but you.
I can't unadore you. 
Screw me. I'm doomed.

I love you.
A three word statement.
It does not even justify the importance that you have in my life.

my walking, talking reason for living

Everyday I wake up to this small little hand pulling my hair, or playing with my face. My boy wonder is turning five months in a few days.
It’s a a while since my last post here and I’m back now.

My ‘Deepest why’

A letter to my mother

_____________________________________________

 

 

Dearest Mama,

You might not understand this fully just now which is why I will try to be profound about it.

First, I would like to tell you I love you, I know I haven’t told you this everyday, but I hope now you appreciate just how much I do love you.

I am very proud of you for the woman you are and for being a good mother to the six of us. There is no better person that fits the role but you. You have your shortcomings as a person, but nonetheless, who cares? You were too busy doing your role as a mother and also as the provider in behalf of my father. I know you are strong and you have great morals, values and principles, something I knew you have instilled in me, something I wish to pass to your future grandchildren.

I know you were disappointed when I get pregnant after college. I have made many mistakes and this one is the worst on your list. I know you were worried of  and about me. I hope you have listenend when I said that no matter what happened, I will always be here for you and my siblings. This will not change no matter what my civil status states. I am always the rebellious daughter to you because I am outspoken and brutally honest, or tackless as you put it in your own words.But I know you can read and understand that I am unique and each of us your children has our own different personality. No worries, your lecture lingers and lessons are learned.

Then and now, on all the occasions you asked me to tidy my room, to wash the dishes, to do my own laundry, and to walk and talk with finese for a reason. I saw that, and I know you just wanted to teach me the value of working together and being part of the family.

I hope you have forgiven me for the times I always answer back, for telling lies, for the mistakes made. I realized that you were preparing me not only to become a better daughter, but a better person.

Remember the time I used to climb and jump and climb and jump on our wooden picket pence and I got into a little accident. You were worried so much you brought me to the doctor to fix my wounds, and I remembered crying out your name in each painful ‘doctor visit’. We had few of those and lots of just “okay moments”. We may not have the mother-daughter teenage bonding time, but we make do of what we have back then.

I remember one time that I accused you of not having the time for us, but you make up for it because you have all the time for our father. My young mind were not able to comprehend how relationship works then. Now, I understand things beyond my normal capacity to decipher. Again, I apologize for these thoughts. I am just merely reminiscing and bringing back old times help me improve as a person, as a daughter.

Lately, I have been going through trials and difficult times. I never told you, but you knew. Thank you for being there for me, when other people didn’t know what to do with me or for me when I was so raw with grief. I stayed in a friend’s house because I couldn’t even stand any more, I couldn’t breath any more, I was so full of pain. My tears won’t fall whenever I am at home, and I needed to go out before I suffocate. My tears just fall – while riding the jeep, or taking the cab, or in the fx. Tears fall without prior notice. For days, I was like these. Moving and living on auto-mode. I breathe for the responsibility I took – my brothers and sisters. I breathe because I am duty bound. I wake up for them. For two or three days, they are the only thread that kept me hanging. I forgot about you, Gilbert, Elle, everyone and everything. Suddenly, I felt tired and exhausted. I am merely existing, surviving and not living.

As my mother, you might have experienced that familiar connection we had even without me speaking aloud of my pains. Your messages soothed my bruised pride and wounded heart. You did not point out my errors though I know you wishes too. You’re afraid that I will escape thru suicide and you don’t know how to make me feel I will be okay in time. I admit that it did cross my mind, but I never had the tendency. I maybe weak mom, but never a coward. Suicide is cowardice. If that kind of escape promises heaven, and life of difficulty depicts hell, I’d rather stay in hell than resort to that.

Fearful, you stayed in the background praying for me and knowing that held me whole and let me cry and wail. You let me be raw. I thank you for this quiet time mama. This is when I needed you most, I’m just afraid to ask. I can never show anyone I am weak especially my siblings. I cannot cry in front of them. But I am hurt. I am in pain. Even strong people have their weakest point.

I am undergoing a process in which I am trying to change the course of our life, your life and mine by deviating from my comfort zone. I want to give you everything you deserve. Everything you rightfully deserve but never had. And this process is very painful and hard and it is testing my resolve whether I should give up or not. I will not give up. I have just began. The road to changing our life and giving our family what we rightfully deserve takes a lot of guts. That’s one special thing I got mom, guts. The courage to continue climbing to the top no matter how dark, long and winding the path is.

Last night, I realized that Gilbert, Elle, my siblings and Tani are just part of the equation. You on the other hand, is my ‘deepest why’. Thank you so much. For million things, for everything.

My biggest wish for you mama, is that you are happy and comfortable. And that I will be able to provide you the things father were not able to. In time. Just hang on for a little while. If anyone deserves the best, it is you. If I could, I would give you the world like you did to me many many times.

 

Love,

 

CeeAnn

soulmates

Two people who really connect don’t need to make love to show that they love each other. A good and sex-less conversation is a lot better… most of the time! But yeah, you get the picture.

Take chances. Love. Live. Have fun. Deal with the mess later. 

“I’m so mad at you. I’m really mad at you for what you did. But I’m mad at myself too. Because I should not have jumped out of that car – I should have fought for you. Because you fight for your soul mates.” – Cal

Because  people fight for their soul mates… Must I?  Because I was trying hard not to fall in love.

drenched with tears

Tonight, I am alone. I have set the mood of our room for memories of you who was once precious, but is now missing. I lighted some candles, searched for the worn out photos of yesteryear, dropped down the fake smile remembering your face… finally, allowed my self to really feel the pain. I need to cry, say, for ten minutes. I am allowing myself to despair and wail and cry. Then, take the next ten minutes to crank up some rhythmic music and express the pain physically – to clean my pad, scrub off the dirt in each and every corner. This will help me release my brain chemicals. Grief held inside a poison. Why should I cry hard for you. I’ll give you just ten minutes and I have to move on after that.