Kaya lang naman po ako nag-message eh para makakita ng maliit na senyales man lang ng sagot sa katanungan ko. Looks like I'll have to take silence as the answer.
Hindi mo ako mahal. Eto lang naman sana talaga yung gusto kong ma-confirm. I guess I wish things went differently. I wish things were better for us. I wish we lived like in the other homes I've been to, where a nonchalant "how are you" is always understood to be the easiest way to say "I love you" after family fights and a long day or even after the best of days, and everything else in between.
I think we'd have gotten along if we were on the same level and we were friends, or if you respected me a bit and saw me as an individual.
We could've gone to therapy together. I think we need it. I wish you no longer do. I know I still do.
Tama ka naman, I can't sincerely talk shit about you. At most, and only if a chance comes up, I can crack a joke about how the Jennifers of the world are as difficult as they say. Walang nagsabi talaga niyan, pag natataon lang na may nafu-frustrate sa kapangalan mo. J***ff**, in your case.
But I still wish many times over na sana pinahid niyo na lang ako ng tatay ko sa kumot. Nung delikado yung pagpapanganak sa akin kasi sabi mo premature baby ako, sana natuluyan na lang ako. Akala ko lilipas din 'to, jusko, bente-singko anyos na ako eh. Masyado na akong matanda para dalhin pa rin 'to. Pero hindi ko kayo kinalimutan. Siguro mukhang ganun para sa inyo at naiintindihan ko naman. Nag-assume lang ako na nirerespeto niyo yung ginawa ko kasi marami namang bumukod sa atin.
Siguro ang sakit na wala kang makitang maganda sa akin. I know you only want what's best for me, but that's the thing—you only want what you think is best for me, no ifs and no buts. In my twenty-five years of existence, it's pathetic how part of me still wants your approval. I never had the guts to reach out to actually attain it until when I messaged, pero sa perspective ko at least, hindi naman ako cheating ex boyfriend para hindi kausapin. But what do I know? I can't invalidate how you feel either, and I get that too. Alam mo, I've had other people tell me they're proud of me. I'll have to make do with finding a mother in every person I see until I've understood enough to be my own mother.
Siguro, I wish I was afforded the same amount of patience and effort to understand where the other person was coming from, because that's what I've been trying to do since we last talked. I wish I was like this when I had the chance, I wish I was this better person I am now (and I'm not saying I'm good enough or that I'm a role model, but I'm better than who I was before by a stretch, and I'm not even a trashy person to start with). Kaso kasi, you were the adults while I still had a lot to learn. I still do now, but you've known the world for two decades more than I have. In a sense, tama yung ex-best friend ko, it felt like I was being held off from growing. I didn't feel like my growth and path as a person was respected. She ended up admitting she liked me, so your gut instinct was right. That's cool.
I never felt close to any of you. I never felt like I had a family, in case you think you treated me like one. In all the meals we've shared, I always felt as if I've been pushed outside and seated several feet away from everyone else. Maybe it's just me and I'm mental. Maybe there really is something to this. But you can't leave someone out from a round table, and that's what we literally had back then.
At most, there was Tita ***. I appreciate her softness and her hope for life, and that's something I want to emulate. I don't know who Tita ***is since I left, but to be the she was then after that all those years? The world is unrelenting to say the least, and so optimism is quite a feat. Now, I say 'was' because due to my incompetence and stupidity, it didn't process until years after that what I thought to be words of encouragement weren't. She really hit the spot, and that was genius. Adults really know best, after all.
I am an underachiever. Makes for a funny story.
Everyday I'm trying to find a reason not to kill myself. Some days, I'd have been successful had it not been for a slight interference, like my annoyingly cute dog. Other days, I'm scared should the day arrive when I just go fuck-all and get it done and over with, then I succeed.
It's easy to be angry because of the things that weren't and the things that were, but I understand you had to fend for yourself and you've gone through a lot. I had this joke to myself where I keep a mental checklist of the struggles you've shared to me, and I cross out the ones I've experienced. Maybe then I can truly be heard once I've crossed out everything.
For honesty's sake, I'll share this one evil thought I've had— how it would be easier to say I'm an orphan, because 'unwanted child' is just too long and also takes away everything you've done for me and, sincerely, I can't discredit that.
I hate that you were forced to put up with me, but I know you tried your best with what you had. I'm not sure if you ever thought of leaving me with my dad so you could've lived your life the way you see fit, but didn't after learning of my dad's incompetence.
Something you've unintentionally taught me is how it's not easy learning about something you never had or experienced. No one ever trusted me to carry a baby, so I don't trust myself either. And I still don't, but it doesn't matter anymore at this point. Point is, I wanted a mother, and I know you didn't have yours for a long time either, but I just can't make sense why that opportunity had to be taken away from a child when care can be so easily given to faceless men begging for alms on the sidewalk. Maybe this is one more thing that will take me years to digest.
All I know is I'm trying my best every single day. I owned up to the jeepney driver the two times I didn't have enough money in my wallet. I apologize for when I'm shushed because my voice tends to be louder than acceptable. I know when I'm being moody and I apologize when I get curt with my friends. Sometimes, my brain works and I'm forthcoming about my moods, so they can cut me some slack if I fuck up, but I always try. I'm not really sure why, but there are people who surprisingly still respect me. I know there are people who hate me for sure. It didn't have to be through this, but I’ve turned out strong and fair and honest and not as prideful. I would've been powerful, but I'll always have that little voice creep in from behind to remind me that the people who, I've been brainwashed would accept me, just don't. I'm bottom of the barrel trash. So at least I got my humility there. My ego would've shot through the roof if I had a piece of that careful loving. Or maybe my ego would be just right. The humility is only a mask for insecurity. Or sometimes the insecurity is masked as god complex. As of this writing, the mask is just off.
To conclude
this novel of a letter, I just wish life is better for you. I can't imagine the
burden of having to do your best at something you never really wanted, and
raising a child at that! And I would never know, because I can't live with
myself if I did that. I'd rather commit a crime and get an abortion than raise
a child when I don't have the mental and financial stability for it. Romance is
nice though. I want that for you at the least. I hope you're living the life
you want now. You deserve to be happy. I know you were only doing things the
way you know how. I guess life just sucks every other day. If you should have a
child again, I hope it doesn't turn out this way. I hope this is a happy Mother’s
Day for you. Thank you.
I feel alone, and while the feeling isn't foreign, I still get lonely. It's not the kind of sadness that feels like a stabbing pain, but more like the one where there's a hole and I feel so light because I'm empty and drained to the core.