20 and yet...

Please let me and cake have our moment... Mmm...

Hey Papa! Do you remember what day is it today? Today's my 20th birthday! Yay! I've finally come of age!

I'm both happy and excited this day had come. My first official day of becoming an adult (finally!). Now I can truly prove myself to the world! And since it's my birthday, I'd stop addressing you as Father just this once. :)

Why am I so happy and excited anyway? What's with being 20 that is fun and exciting? Frankly, there's the maturity issue. And there's the fact about handling more responsibilities than ever before. So what's there to be happy about?

Well, my dear Papa, here are my reasons:

1. When you've lived half your life taking medicine tablets and capsules in your system like candy, wouldn't you appreciate another year of living? Some might think I'm crazy speaking like this. (Well, I am crazy. Half my brain does a million somersaults while the other half monitors everything else.) But when you look back all the years of near death, you'd realize just how lucky one can be to be given another chance to live.

2. Alright, so another year means another 360-days of hardship, pain, and sorrow. Surprise! That's not the only thing in life! There are a lot of good things to look forward to with another year. Like the reunion concert of your favorite band or next year's anime convention. Or reuniting with a friend. Or finding your soulmate. And for dreams, well, here's another year of dreaming or making it real, it's your choice. It had been a good number of years of good and bad experiences, of beautiful and horrible memories,and of appreciation and regret. And here you are, starting a new page again.

3. And when is it that you feel much appreciated (or lonely for the lack of it)? Isn't it on the very day that you were born? Okay, so there's Christmas and Valentines, and all the other holidays, but if you think about it, the reason why birthdays are celebrated in the first place because the people around you appreciate your coming into their lives. If you weren't born, then who would love them the way only you could do? Somebody else, probably. But it will never turn out the same way if you weren't there. You don't celebrate that during Christmas or Valentines Day, do you?

4. It isn't everyday you get a day dedicated to you (and hundreds others celebrating their birthdays around the world.)

5. People are extra nice to you during birthdays. They treat you lunches, do you favors, give you stuff for free... And your popularity just goes off the roof on your birthday.

Well, of course, my 5 reasons isn't applicable to everyone else. There are others who hate their birthday. Others treat it just like any other normal day. And others who lost the point of celebrating birthdays at all. But I think, one should, at least celebrate one's date of birth in whatever way they can. With or without family and friends. After all, birthdays only come once a year. And not everyone gets to survive another birthday.

I will then use this space to thank everyone who shared the past 19 years with me:
1. God - of course, for giving me another year to live.
2. You - for helping me come into this world.
3. Mama - for loving me for the horrible monster that I am for 19 years now.
4. Nanay - who continues to look after me, even in Heaven. Hi Nanay!
5. Uncle - for being himself and trying his best to make us all happy. And for bringing me to and from school when I was small.
6.My close relatives (Mama's side) - for being there and supporting us all the way.
7. My not-so-close relatives (Your side) - for helping us to remain steadfast (even if they were never on our side).
8. My bestfriend, Aki - for the friendship, for her patience, and for everything else (including your gift: "Remembrance" by Jude Deveraux)
9. My close friends (Paula, Kat, Erik, Joy, Joan, Nark, Jay) - for listening to all the mumbojumbo I've been telling them. I miss you guys!
10. My friends (plus all the rest of 4BA5 class 2007) - for taking the time and interest of knowing me and introducing yourself to me. (And for letting me copy from time to time. :D) *sniff* I miss you too...
11. My classmates (from Nursery to College) - for breaking my crayons, borrowing my pens, asking for some paper, taking my answers (Deny and you will be punished!), and thanking God that I was there. (No hard feelings here, guys!)
12. My teachers and professors - for taking care of me in school, for making me do things I wouldn't like doing (like Math for example), for trying to appreciate me and the things I do (like my artworks), for trying to get into my head (but never succeeded! hah!), and for making my life hell with quizzes, homeworks, projects and failing grades. Of course, I appreciate all these things now. (But I'm still not taking the curses off some of you! )
13. The head mistress of our school (Nursery & Kinder) - for giving me awards and recognizing my potential (genius).
14. The principal (Grade 1 to 3) - for taking my side against those students whom I thought bullied me. (Now I'm regretting of accusing them.)
15. The school administration (Grade 4 to 6) - for giving me considerations during this chaotic phase of my life. For giving me countless opportunities trying to make my life as normal as other children. For protecting me against the teasing of other classmates and for teaching me to be responsible.
16. Vincent - for calling me names and making my 3 years in your school hell. And for letting everyone in our batch call me names. (I still hold a bit of a grudge, you know.)
17. The ever-famous and semi-omnipotent directress of our school and their staff (high school) - for letting me into your school, for teaching me to abide by the rules, and for teaching me to never let my guard down (because you are watching). Also for the delicious sweet and sour meatballs, siopao, tacos, nachos, fries, hashbrowns, and squidballs served at the canteen. (Hopefully you still serve them.) And the plastic spoons and forks that always break when you try to use them. Because of that, I learned how to improvise.
18. My neighbors - for not losing their temper and sanity whenever I scream and cry and sing and do crazy stuff, aloud.
19. My crushes and love interests (you know who you are!) - for giving color to my life and teaching me what it was to fall in love.
20. All the strangers I've met in life - the jeepney, bus, tricycle and fx drivers who took me to my destination, the people who were there and assisted in Nanay's funeral, the man who used to sell those mysteriously delicious "burgers", the holduppers who slashed our bags, the people who read and flame my works over the Net, and all the other people who had been part of my life even for a second. For the time you gave and the impression you left on me.

I wonder how many will be added here when I turn 21?

In Memoriam: Nanay

September 28, 2007

I'm lonely, but never alone...

Father,

My grandmother (not your mother, but the one I fondly call "Nanay"), had passed away last September 18, 2007 at exactly 4:55p.m.She was declared Dead on Arrival at the Mary Immaculate Hospital and the autopsy conducted at Loyola Memorial Chapels revealed she had diedof a cardiac arrest. The autopsy doctor explained that almost all her veins had gone brittle due to senasence and half of them had exploded,causing the huge bruises on her arms and legs. The medication given to her at the Medical City after she suffered a mild stroke 7 days beforeher passing, remained trapped in her stomach, as well as the water we gave to hydrate her, because her veins had already failed to work. A rupturedvital vein in the head area had put an end to all her suffering, and she is now wandering the Earth for 10 days now. And though it sounds unbelievable,she had lived a healthy dose of 96 years of life, a term some people call "double life".

The 4-day wake was conducted at Arlington East Memorial Chapel,and it was attended by all the people who loved Nanay and also those who love the people she had left. She was cremated back at Loyola (because they were the only ones with the facility to do so), last Sunday, September 23, 2007, at 1:00pm.Her remains are now kept in a white marble urn that is currently staying in our house, but after the 9 days of consecutive prayer, she will be laid in an ossuary here at the Sta. Clara de Montefalco Cathedral on October 1, at around 3:00 p.m.

I wrote this to remember her, to relieve the emotions I had bottled up inside, and to tell you that you don't have any reason to be afraid to come back home anymore.Even at the wake, her guiding presence was eminent, as she had made way to unite the broken family that her husband left her. I don't doubt she'll do the same for ours,seeing that she now practically knows the existence of this blog and its purpose. But to do such would need much of your cooperation...

If you ever see a black butterfly, or smell the scent of orchids from nowhere, remember Nanay, and remember the home where you once lived as my father.

Urban Witch

Angel Project

My inspiration is taking flight!

Artemis had shot me another inspiration, Father. And now, I am currently working on another project. This one is called "Angel Project" and angels will be the central theme of the stories. Currently, I had finished the first story, and I am almost done with the second story. I don't know how long this will last, but I will take advantage of it and finish maybe 2 more.

Once I got done with this draft, I "might" move on and make them into one-shot comics and sell them at the next anime convention... I really wish I'd get this one finished. It would be a real waste if I won't be able to.

I want to be a mangaka, father. And I'm going to prove to the world that I could become one.

Hazy Moons and Twin Stars

6:21:07

Just like my happiness that night, you felt so near... yet remained so far...

Last Sunday evening, I had a long chat with him, father. You know who I am talking about. Him. The guy I really liked. I got his phone number a long time ago and I had been calling him from time to time ever since.

It’s been about 1 month since I last spoke to him, and since last week, something had constantly nudged me to get the phone and call him. I did what instinct told me to do, and called him.

After the casual “Hello’s” and “How are you’s?”, the topic kept revolving on my work and his quest for his perfect job. He still hasn’t got one, after all these months. He’s applied to every company he is fascinated with, and almost all of them gave a negative reply. He still doesn’t have a job, and he isn’t expecting any either, so he’s back to his job search once more.

He did not talk of anything else but work, work, work.

It really bored me, father. Especially since I’m interested in what he’s been doing besides looking for a job. I kept on steering the conversation away from it, but it seems that it was the only thing he could talk about.

Yesterday, though, I had another strange experience.

It was a hazy half moon last night, and my emotions were as hazy as the moon. All throughout the day, it bothered me that it was already June 21. it felt that I forgot to do something, or that I missed someone’s birthday. And all the while my thoughts would end up back to one person. Him.

When I looked up to the moon, I thought of him, and it makes me wonder if he ever thought of me the same way. He knows how fascinated I am with the moon and the stars, and I had shared hundreds of starry nights with him. I was the one who told him the story of the Three Kings, a.k.a Orion’s Belt, about the Ursa Minor, the easiest constellation to spot. We both spotted what I named were “Twin Stars”, since they were two stars placed so close together, there is barely a space between the two of them. (Nowadays I don’t see Twin Stars anymore.)

My heart skips a beat as I mesmerize at the half moon, thinking back to the starry nights we shared and the moonlit paths we walked on. It seems that though I vowed to forget and finally get over him, it will be as hard as taking the stars from the sky.

Happy Father's Day

06:17:07

You brought the ramen... right?

The whole world is celebrating it, and the mass media is just filled with the holiday's spirit. But there was one commercial in particular that moved me, and brought up a lot of questions and hidden desires about having a father.

It was Unilab's recent Bioflu commercial. In that commercial, and old man with a large build came in the room where a young man lay crumpled under his blanket, perspiring heavily. He came over to the young man's side and asked, "Anak,Kamusta na lagnat mo?" (translates as: "Son, How's your fever?"). "Mataas pa rin po, Pa, At ang sakit pa ng katawan ko." (My temperature's still high, and my body is starting to ache.") "Heto, mag-Bioflu ka." (Here, take some Bioflu). The father hands the medicine and watches his son take it. Then, he lay beside him on the bed and tucked him in, gently patting him on his butt and humming a low lullaby to make him fall asleep. The following scene continues the humming, but only the father is still asleep in the bed. His son had already worn his uniform and is preparing himself to go to work.

The commercial itself was simple, and very timely for Father's Day. (And I'm sure there will be some people who was encouraged to buy the medication in the future.) If I find out how, I will post a copy of the TV commercial here so you will see it.

But what struck me most was the father's care over his sick son.

Father, I have been sick a lot of times before, and I still buy medicines that range from P500-P2000, (sometimes all at the same time) just to get me back up on my feet again. As I grow up, I seldom get sick, but when I do, it's one that is sure to pin me down on my bed for days. Perhaps you know that I have asthma, father. Though I get attacks less and less this year because I was experiencing less stress than when I was still in school, I still have to keep on buying Symbicort and Ventolin from time to time to regulate these attacks. When I was a child, I was inflicted with all sorts of maladies, from fever (psychosomatic or not), to coughs, from sore eyes to jaundice, from allergy to skin asthma, All of this I suffered. All of this I endured. All of this, with only my mother by my side. And I lived long, long enough to create this blog dedicated to letters for you.

Where were you, father, when I was young and gasping for breath, having a near death experience and waking up not knowing that I fell asleep in the first place? Where were you, when I was throwing up everything I ate and could barely keep myself awake? Where were you, father, when I woke up in the middle of the night because I couldn't breathe and I almost had a heart attack? Where were you, father, when I got my teeth pulled out by the dentist because they were too rotten? Where were you, father, when a nerve in my feet got so painful, that I was worried I wouldnt be able to enroll myself? Where were you, father?

Did you know, father, that when I was experiencing all this, I had been wishing that they would bring me to the hospital, or that I end up dead? Because maybe if I died you would come home and be regretful and never leave my side again. I was desperate, father, to know if someone else cared for my existence. It was something that constantly haunts my being everyday.

These were not the only things I used to think about when I was a child.

I used to think about how you spend your FAther's day, all alone and out at sea. I wonder if you keep in your wallet the picture of me during my JS prom in your wallet and show it to all of your friends or look at it whenever you felt lonely? How would you react, father, if you knew that I've been practicing witchcraft and that I believe in destiny and in spirits? Had I had my first boyfriend, would you approve him, or get strict with me until we elope? What's your favorite color? Food? Flower? TV Show? When I had failed on my subjects, would you scold me like mad? what do you look like when your'e angry? if i were to give you a gift, would you keep it or throw it away?

Beyond all that, I keep on thinking if you really loved me and my mother, even for just a moment.

Today, Mama and I went out to the mall and ate stuffed pizzas at Sbarro while sharing a large glass of lemonade. it was a rare moment, to eat at a place we used to pass by before because it was too expensive. but it wasnt new to me that we're sharing the same drink, or the same food. we used to keep on doing that, father, whenever the two of us go out. she would buy a dish meant for a single person, and we would divide it between the two of us. back then, it used to be easy, since I ate and drank little. but now that I have grown up, my appetite grew as well. I could certainly finish off one meal serving, even if it seems that there is enough for two people. but still we buy a single serving, and divide it between us.

It was kinda surprising, actually, for a thought of you to pass my mind. I rarely think about you nowadays, except when people ask about your whereabouts. your name would be rarely mentioned in the house, and when it was, it would only bring back painful memories and Mama would become the fragile little lady that shattered when you left.

But frankly, father, the reason I wrote this, and the reason I set up this blog is not because of the pent up anger I had stored inside of me for years. its because I miss you, and that I wish our family was complete and normal.

Happy Father's Day, Papa.

Back to School

6:7:07

"Oh right... I don't go to school anymore..."

School once again began just this week and all around the county, kids and parents are flocking in front of schools either waiting to get in or wanting to get out. I used to be part of that crowd, rushing to and fro just to get to school on time and so on. But now, I’m just an innocent bystander, riding the jitney with children and teens who may be their first or nth time wading in the Pool of Education.

College levels don’t start until next week and there are still schools that are still open for enrolment even this late in June. Everyday, on my way to work, the same guy hands me a brochure about the openings for enrolment in the nearby computer school. I took his brochure twice. I was interested in taking up an IT course anyway. Today, I saw him again, and I avoided him this time. It was enough that he wasted his paper and ink twice for me. The brochure he may have given me might be the one for the person who really intends to enroll there soon. Besides, the two brochures he gave me ended up in the trash can.

Frankly, father, I am beginning to miss school.

During my last days as a student, I always had this desire for graduation not to come. I wanted to stay a college student, together with my three friends, and enjoying the life that was paved out for us. But we only have the power to spin the threads of Fate and not to unravel it and turn back Time or stop spinning the thread altogether. It will be spun no matter what, and it will lengthen, until Athropos gets her shears and ends the thread.

Guess what my 5 year plan was? For two years I will get a job and work, work, work until I’m rich (or got enough to support the family). Then, I will go back to school, take a Masters in Business or in Psychology or Digital Art or others. And this will go on until I end up as a housewife with four children and a loving husband. And then work at home as a writer, or digital artist, or online game beta tester (that would be real cool.) or something else. Actually, that is a draft of my five year plan. Anything goes with the future, and whatever it gives to me I just go along with it.

But anyway, that was my 5 year plan, and unless something happens, I will follow through. I will go back to school.

For You

Never forget.

I wonder what would happen if humans never forgot.

Knowing Grandfather

5:5:07

Today was my grandfather’s birthday. I never really knew much about him, because he passed away long before I was born, leaving my grandmother and his 9 children. Of one of the nine, I was born. I know you know who I am talking about. You once loved her, right?

Anyway, last night, while watching her chop away the kamias she needed for cooking, she mentioned that today would be grandfather’s birthday. Having known almost nothing about you, I asked her, what was he like? She then explained everything to the best of her memory. She started with our family tree, and I realized just how big and complex our family was, with grandfather standing as a sturdy trunk. I don’t really know, but I guess you and him did have something in common. But unlike you, he did not leave the others for his new family. He considered them as part of a very huge and complex family, and loved and cared for each single offspring equally. I begin to wonder what would have happened if you and him had met.

He was, a very loving father to all his children. Of the three children he had with my grandmother, he cherished my mother most of all. In all occasions, my mother would be most welcomed. When she got kicked out of the company her step sister owns, because of what you did to her, that relative got angry at her. She had thought that she was sabotaging the company, based on what her co-employees had told her. But grandfather found a way, and reconciled them. I bet you now know how I managed to finish school without your help or the help of your very generous offerings. It was that same relative that I offer my college diploma to, not to you. Up to now she still looks after all of us, but we don’t take advantage of this favor in anyway. It was her who said that I looked like grandfather, and I earned her favor more.

I wish I could have met my grandfather. He seems to be a fun-loving old man full of surprises. Maybe if I had I wouldn’t be longing to find someone like him for a father.

Final Commencement

3:26:07

It’s been 10 years since I last saw you, and if you’ve been counting right, you know that this would be the month when I would celebrate my final commencement.

Yes, father. I had finally graduated college. Impossible as it would seem, with all the things we had to go through just to get me through school. But I had made it, father. No doubt about it. I had graduated with barely anything from you. And today was the day that marked that end.

I always dreamed of this day above all things, and it was much more magical than what I had expected. I went to the graduation hall clothed in a dress made out of my grandmother’s cloth and sewn by a generous neighbor (she gave me a discount on the labor expenses because I was graduating). You should have seen it. I chose the design myself. It was brown, dappled with huge beige flowers. It had a low collar that was cut just a few inches below the collar bone, and two semi-puffed sleeves that hang just below the shoulders. It was tied by a gold ribbon around my waist, and the rest of the dress flows freely and is cut just about a few inches above my knees. It wasn’t my dream dress, but it was just fine. I threw in a pair of white high heeled shoes and my aunt lent me her (imitation) pearl necklace and earrings just for the occasion.

We drove ourselves in a rented company van, along with the other real estate agents of the company where my mother and aunt worked. And as we drove, I thought of you, and of the dreams I had about this day. I had dreamed that you would be among one of the millions of parents, friends and relatives flooding the graduation hall. But with your graduation ticket in my hand, it would be more likely that you would never be there. And if you were there, then you must be attending your other daughter’s graduation. Isn’t it funny if I found out that we both went to the same university and graduated the same courses at the same date?

I want you to know and remember that I have become a realist the day you went away and never showed up in our doorstep ever again. I had come to believe that dreams remain dreams, and unless it was stated in your destiny, that dream is more likely not to come true. So I never did keep my hopes up, father. But still, I wished you were there to see me as I walked the aisle and climbed the stairs towards the stage, as the school rector took my tassel, moved it to the other side and shook my hands while saying ‘Congratulations”, as I stopped and smiled with my two chipped front teeth for the picture that proves I had graduated, as I walked back to my seat while stopping by some professors congratulating all of us personally, all with the Graduation Hymn playing in the background over and over like a worn out CD. You should have seen me, father, in my black graduation gown and cap adorned with a gold hood as I heaved a proud sigh and thinking that it had been done.

I finally graduated.

It was, among few that were documented here, one of the happiest experiences I ever had. It would have been really great if I graduated with honors, but even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’d still remain the average grader that I am because achievements only pressure me to keep up with the standards.

Keeping up to be a perfect daughter was hard enough. So why add more?

Happy as the occasion was, I was also feeling down and lonely. It was the first time I made real friends without anyone to intervene, and it felt sad having to realize the fact that it was all over. No more petty quarrels of which fast food to eat in. No more laughing out loud like crazy while listening to someone’s mishap. No more seatmates to cheat with *grin*. No more walks going home. No more talks about the unknown. No more name-calling of those professors who looked like in-humane monsters. No more rants about projects and deadlines and exams all on the same date. No more phone calls or YM’s about the same school stuff. No more fun memories. Only sad endings.

They were the three most cherished people I ever had in college. The first guy was my occult master, the second guy was my first real crush and the third girl was my work ethics twin. And it will be a very long time (unless I got struck with amnesia) before I forget each of them.

I didn’t cry when we separated. I’ve grown up accepting that separation is inevitable and I was able to cope with all the separations in my life, including yours. And I never want to make a fuss of turning soft right when I had this reputation of being rock-hearted (a nickname I got from my occult master). But deep inside the disappointment of shattered dreams had been evolving into regret and sorrow.

Graduation not only marked the end of a school year. It also marked the end of friendships, and the end of the cloistered life within the safe four walls of the school/university. It’s like you’ve been used to swimming in a swimming pool and then you find yourself at the shores of the wide, unprecedented ocean called Real Life. Its harsh, untested, and you can get yourself killed if you don’t know how to swim right. But you’d have to find your way through if you’d want to survive.

I’m out in the sea now, father. Watch me swim.

My One True Valentine

2:14:07

Love is... a hormonal chaos waiting to explode anytime... n_n;

It’s Valentines Day, father. I’m just wondering. How did you and my mother used to spend Valentines when you two were still together? How did you court her when the two of you were still in love?

Tell me, father, what's it like to fall in love?

It seems kinda weird admitting this, but, yes, father… I had been in love.

He was a guy from our class, father. I had mentioned him before. He's the same guy who gave me Shiro, my smiling cat cellphone charm. He was a few inches taller than me, dark skinned, and had a triangle shaped face. He had big eyes, thick eyebrows and a big mouth that barely speaks. He was an otaku, or anime fan, just like me. And I had a serious crush on him.

(I wouldn't mention any names, though, because you might meet him somewhere at a very inconvenient time.)

What I liked about him most was his willingness to listen without arguing back and his tendency to smile in every possible occasion. He doesn't get provoked easily (which I used a lot of times to my advantage) and rarely talks unless spoken to. He seems like a shy guy, but unlike me, Math problems doesn't terrify him. I would often run up to him and ask for help during times of despair. He was also reliable, and though he doesn't talk much, but very friendly and approachable.

He was one of the people who intrigued me most when I first stepped into my new classroom for my third year. He was as he would always be: quiet, sitting by the shadows trying to remain unnoticed. I set myself a challenge to make him talk for the whole year we would be together. I succeeded with only a few attempts (thanks to Naruto). So I then posed a new challenge, to make him angry. It proved itself to be a much harder challenge, and I ended up not getting him angry but instead, becoming his ears to ease his frustrations on. He would share with me his frustrations with school and his group mates whenever we would walk home from school to the jeepney stopwhere he gets his ride home.

It was halfway through the year, as I was starting to know about him more and more during our walks home, that I was beginning to realize that I was starting to fall for him.

It did feel really weird, like what others who had been in and out of love had said. First of all, I have an innate distrust on the male species (thanks to you). Secondly, because I had been in a series of 30 minute crushes all my life (i.e. I see this cute guy, have a sudden crush on him, and when he walks away, that feeling is also gone for good.) But today, when I first spent Valentines day with someone that is dear to me, it felt really magical that I wished that it would be Valentines everyday.

My regular class schedule would start at 11 am and end at around 4:30 pm (or 3pm, depending on the number of subjects for that day). But today, out of some strange reason I still haven't found out, the Morning Classes (7 - 11 am) were suspended, and classes would resume at around 1 in the afternoon. Taking this great opportunity, we both agreed to meet earlier and eat lunch together. We decided to meet at 11 am at one of the stone pavilions erected in front of our building.

I had planned for Valentine's day a long time ago. In the tradition of the Japanese' Tanabata, I planned to make heart-shaped chocolates and give it to everyone, with a very special one cooked just for him. But as the day neared, the money saved for this special day got spent on projects, emergency trips to fast food chains, and other stuff related to school, and I ended up with half the budget to buy all the stuff I would need for the chocolates. So I turned to another alternative and went off to buy a brownie mix instead. It's still chocolate, anyway, and I had cooked it a lot of times before.

I woke up really early (around 6 am) and mixed up a delicious batch of brownies. And even in my dire effort to keep track of time, I ended up running late (again!). I was in a hurry to take the brownies from the oven that I had burned myself near my right wrist. The brownies didn't come out perfectly. One side was able to rise, while the other side didn't, resulting a slope shaped brownie. It was a great disappointment, but it did not discourage me a bit. I cut the brownies in 6 individual slices, and wrapped each one in red cellophane wrapper. I hurriedly shoved each in a paper bag, then quickly ran out of the house and headed for school.

The dreary old university we call school turned on a different aura that was obvious upon arrival on the school grounds. Everyone was everywhere, crowding in front of the college buildings or hanging around the memorable love spots in the school. Of course, almost everyone came in pairs, with either red roses or pink balloons or huge teddy bears. When I came to school, there was so much chaos it was easy to get lost in the sea of people rushing to and fro. I got around them, and went to our meeting place, to find him not there. I saw some of our classmates and I asked if they saw him, since we were to meet there. They said that he had been looking for me too, and when I was about to go looking for him, he came. I don't know if anyone noticed, but I managed to blush a little upon his arrival. I quickly covered it up with a little banter about where he went and that I had been dizzy trying to look for him. He said that he was looking for me too, and we then set off just the two of us for lunch.

Off we went to Lovelites, a small canteen located at Asturias, Dapitan, to get ourselves some lunch. We both bought the same meal: footlong hotdogs with rice and gravy and large C2 Apple (with an extra rice for him). As we waited for our orders, I slipped him my brownies, to which he reacted quite confused, but still he took it. I wanted to see him eat it, but it was enough for me to see that he took it anyway.

We then headed to our still empty classroom and ate our meals there. As we ate, some classmates came in and saw us, then left the room grinning while saying aloud that they will leave us lovebirds alone. (We have a very queer reputation in school that we are made for each other. Something that is quite natural since the two of us were together most of the time.) I tried to scare them off, but they ran away by themselves, leaving the two of us all alone once more.

it was the perfect moment, father, but I guess I myself is a "torpedo", or a scaredy-cat. I would had told him what I felt right then. Still, the time just doesn't feel right. So I just let destiny take a hand, and the rest of the hours passed with the two of us just chatting away. The bell rang, and our classmates began to flood in, and the magical moment was whisked away in the breeze. But even for just a while, I was truly happy. Because I was able to spend my Valentine's day with somebody had learned to love.

How about you, father? How did you spend your day today?