For that aim-for-the-moon, land-among-the-stars kind of girl.


Perhaps I am that girl.

The one who appears as if she got everything figured out.
The one who made it look as if life is nothing but a series
of adventures.
The one who showed the world that life was never easy but
it made sense, at least to her.

The hardest thing about being that girl is the world tend to
make example out of her.

Her struggles were more grueling.
Her problems beat her down the hardest.
Her heartbreaks shattered her whole being.
Life left her for the dead.

But still, she was that girl.

Wearing the perfect lipstick but with nails full of dirt from
digging her way out of her own grave.
Who stands straight in her 4-inch red stilettos but with a slight strain form her broken heart.
With the perfect mascarra, but eyes glossy with midnight

And she goes on.

Life is uncertain so she learned to be crazy.
Life is hard, so she decided to be soft.
Life is beautiful, so she taught herself to appreciate it.
Life is short, so she lived each moment significantly.
Life is a bitch, so she became a better one.

The One day at a Time Cycle

Heartbreak is a very complicated and gruelling experience.

At 7am, you wish your damn phone won’t alarm and you can just lay there and hide from the sunlight.

At 8am, you listen to the most uplifting and empowering music you know while making your way to work. 15 minutes later, you still feel like shit and wanted to hit that couple in the elevator kissing each other goodbye.

At 10am, you feel a sense of purpose. Like you are unstoppable and perhaps today fate will smile at you and maybe just maybe, today will be the day your heartaches will all be erased.

At 1pm, you are sobbing silently at your desk. Trying your best to be insignificant so no one will notice how badly you are falling apart.

At 2pm you will come running to the bathroom, crying some more but trying your best to fix your mascarra right after.

At 5pm you feel exhausted from your heart leading you on this emotional roller coaster and your brain unsuccessfully trying to take back control.

At 6pm you make your way to the gym. Hoping that as you do each and every reps, your tears won’t be distuigishable from your sweat.

At 8pm you try to buy the best ramen there is in town hoping to finally have the appetite to shove something down your throat aside from those sleeping pills washed down by endless bottles of beers.

At 9pm, you stare at your untouch dinner, pick up your phone, searched for his name in you messenger, saw that he is active but never bothered to send you a message. So the ramen ended up as fish food. And that tall bottle of vodka lovingly made its way to your lips.

At 10pm, you tried your best not to think of all the lingering memories of him in your house, in your bedroom. You chatted, called and IMed all of your friends to divert your attention. Then you ended up sleeping with the shirt he intentionally forgot in your washer.

Come 12 midnight, you squeeze your pillow. Shed millions of tears. Howling at the moon, wishing you can feel anything, anything but this.

The clock reads 4 am and you are waiting for the dawn to break. Knowing that you will just go through the same fucking cycle again.

Whoever said, one day at time works must have forgotten to mention that every single second of your day will suck. And every part of your body will hurt. Badly. You wanted to scream. And just throw everything else to make all the freaking pain go away.

If only there is an easy cure for a shattered heart, broken lives, and destroyed dreams.

If only.


Hastala Proxima Vez


I imagined meeting you again, in a different time when the wounds are all healed and the scars are too. I imagined seeing you in the most unexpected of places, in the least expected time because that is how it must go.

I’ll be standing in front of you like I am seeing you for the first time. And you will stare at me like a newly met stranger, no past, no present, both unknown to each other.

I will smile at you in recognition and you will give me a slight nod. An indication that somehow, you still remember the girl you used to hold in your arms.

Suddenly all the memories will seem to come back in blurred details. How I laughed when you make silly faces. How we ardently team up in Heroes Evolved. How I am the mage to your tank. How we try to solve each other’s assignment. How we beat each other’s routine in the gym. How we gulp down muchos of beers. And how you realize that time was not on our side. And how I break down that night and cried in your arms one last time.

One last time.

Perhaps God fated us to meet again. One last time. May it be for the closure that never was or for a proper goodbye, but never for a second chance.

But still I will thank God for bringing you right there and then.

I imagine keeping a comfortable distance in between us because anything going beyond that line will go past of what should be.

“Nami.” You’ll say to me. And I will remember your voice that annoys the hell out of me when you sing. The voice that keeps me sane during my thesis debacle. The voice that once shattered my heart.

“Nice to see you.” I’ll say, wanting to whisper “again” but then just offering my hand to you. Not the best greeting I can offer to someone who was once my sun and stars, but that will have to do.

Your hand will meet mine and you will give it a light squeeze. And maybe I will be reminded of all the details of your hand. The hand that I loved so much before. The hand that I prayed to God would never leave mine, until it did.

For others, awkwardness is how we may seem to look. But for us, it was a nostalgic feeling for that familiarity once shared. The feeling of stumbling into something that used to be yours, forever belonging to another.

Someday, somehow it will all make sense. Why I will stand right in front of you and not beside you. Why the ring on my left finger was given by someone else who is not you. Why there is only you and me, and no longer an us.

Someday, I imagine seeing you again. Happy in another girl’s arms while I run back to the one who loves me the way you couldn’t.

And someday it’s going to make sense.

Someday, we will get the kind of love we never got from each other, the kind we truly deserve.

Someday, I will meet you again in a different time. When all is forgiven and forgotten. When the love lost is found once again in someone else’s arms.

Someday, I will meet you again in the most unexpected of places, in the least expected time because that is how it must go.

And that will answer why we let each other go.

Hasta la proxima vez Yummy.