I saw the people on my blocked list and thought of checking how they are now through another account when I came across my mom's and aunt's Facebook profiles. Ang laki na nung pinsan ko, yung dating tinu-tutor ko. Tapos yung tita ko, going strong naman sila ng asawa niya. Nakita ko profile ng mama ko tapos nakita ko yung isang public album niya nung nasa Imus siya, tapos ako nasa Batangas, mga bandang high school 'to. Nagte-Tesda siya nun.

Tapos alam mo, ang saya sigurong magka-mama. No amount of dicks from Tinder can compare, I guess. Kahit simpleng paggupit ng buhok ko, na-a-associate ko sa kanya kasi she was–most of the time–against me growing my hair long, and yeah, she's right. I look better with my hair short, plus it's easier to maintain. Kahit sa simpleng haircut, tama pa rin siya. Siguro, sorry kasi dahil sa akin, hindi niya mapunan yung mga bagay na kulang sa kanya kasi may obligasyon siya sa akin. Salamat na lang din kasi ngayon, nagkaroon ako ng pagkakataon hanapin yung sarili ko nang mas maaga kesa sa kanya. 

Gusto kong isiping baka mas may pag-asa akong maayos yung buhay ko, become someone who's lived to her potential, pero it doesn't feel like it's going to happen. Malapit na birthday ko. Naiisip niya pa ba ako? Iniisip ko pa rin siya. Nakatago pa rin yung birthday card na bigay niya sa akin. Siguro ang laking disappointment ng nararamdaman niya sa akin. Ako rin naman sa sarili ko. Pero alam mo yun, sana kahit katiting lang sa sarili ko, may makita siyang okay. Kasi ako wala akong makitang okay sa sarili ko. Oo, kailangan ko ng validation pero siguro the best kung sa kanya galing. Tangina ang weird. Bakit ang lala ng mommy issue ko no. Magbe-bente-kwatro na ako sa Sabado? Sa Biyernes? Pero ganito pa rin pala nararamdaman ko tungkol dun. Ganito na ba yun hanggang kamatayan? 

I feel a certain warmth when someone calls me Mica. It brings me back to a time when I didn't think this low of myself and when I still had a family, I guess. I don't even know why I'm saying right now that I miss them, when I ran away from home. It's just that I feel so alone. 

Here I am, 6 years from when I first left, doing nothing but dyeing my hair and cutting my bangs. Is this the most I can do?

I always wish I could skip the the last three months of the year. October is for my mother, November is for myself, and December is for the holiday. A birthday is really nothing but a reminder of what I'm still not and where I've fallen short, of everything and everyone that I've lost over the years. 

You know how having a job now just covers up the fact that I can function well really. For a time, I've only been using disposable underwear because I couldn't wash my underwear. I can't wash anything. I skipped dropping my clothes off to the laundry shop. I haven't cleaned my restroom for months. I did just today. I washed my underwear today. I will resume cleaning up tomorrow. Right now, I'll go to sleep.

I haven't slept on my bed for months.