Teach me gently how to breathe.

I stand patiently, quieter than usual, as if silence will calm my tossing stomach.
But it doesn't.
It rages and churns, like a violent sea, crushing innocent sailors and their little wooden boats. The rooms spins and and everyone becomes a distant blur, every sound is further away and out of reach, all I have are my hands against the wall, in hopes of finding a better place.
Moments melt into each other and I have stumbled into my sanctuary of comfort and release. My knees give way and I am on the floor, soaking up the cool tiles, waiting for my dizzy head to clear. I have never been this far gone, and the loss of control is neither thrilling nor comfortable. I feel far away, like I am floating in space while my body lies in the dark bathroom, aching and sick. I hear voices rush to my side, and caring hands pick me up and stroke my hair. The sudden movements have upset me, and out of nowhere, I release the contents of my stomach, over and over again until all that is left is my skeleton and skin.

I wake up to a dense atmosphere and of sweat and hot air, it's been more than two weeks since my father passed away, but on this morning, I have forgotten all about it. I recall that I have not seen him for a few days and I wonder when he'll be home, as if he is on that much-needed vacation we always talked about. Then it hits me, he's not coming back. I remember, he died.

These hands are my own.

The feeling of loneliness just struck me like a flash of lightning in some barren desert.

I was passing idle time by browsing through facebook, listening to some John Mayer, and then I came across a post that I wasn't a part of, and bam! I just felt... so disconnected. I get frequent visits from this feeling, it's not even funny. I don't know where to place myself, who to go to, where I'm wanted, or if I'm even wanted at all.

Honestly, beneath all the exaggerated humour, I do get slightly offended when I'm not invited out with friends. I get that they don't know if they should invite me or whatnot, because it might be too early for me to start going out and enjoying myself again, but I hate the idea of me standing on some lonely island, while everyone else moves with the waves.

It's one of those soft spots I have, feeling left out. I don't know where it originated. I guess from being moved from country to country, leaving friends behind, losing them and making new ones yearly. It all feels so temporary, and I hate that.

So bad, I can't think straight. So bad that my bones shake.

He went on about how much he missed her. How he was aching with a physical pain, how her presence, a simple accidental glance into her eyes as they crossed paths would've been enough to let him last a few more days. She admires his thoughtfulness. She admires his vulnerability. But she still doubts the exaggeration that laces his words. So maybe he isn't lying, maybe he does miss her. "But if he missed me that much, he'd go out of his way to see me," she thought to herself, with heavy sighs, "and so far, he hasn't done anything of the sort".

When will I ever see you again?

I dreamt of him last night. It was everything I could have hoped for. I went to his house to surprise him, and I waited there for him to get home. When we finally walked through the door, he glanced at me but kept on walking. About two steps away, he stopped in his tracks and did a double take. He froze for a bit, as if he did not believe his eyes. As if I was his imagination, playing tricks on him. Missing a person desperately can do terrible things to you. When he finally realized it was me in the flesh, he broke out into the brightest smile and hugged me right off my feet. He squeezed the breath out of me and kept telling me that he loved me, kept kissing my cheeks and smiling as if all he could ever want was right there in his arms.
The rest is a bit blurry, but I recall sitting and talking on a couch until 5 in the morning. I woke up with a wave of satisfaction breaking over me, the unforgettable scene of him noticing me was flashing in my mind. I had missed him so much that my mind had to provide him for me just to keep my head above water. I wanted to tell him straight away, but I couldn't, so I lay in bed, watching the scenes of my dream play themselves over and over again, until the image of his swooping hug and intense happiness embedded itself in my mind.

Black Holes & Revelations

"You seem better,"
"Better about what?"
"You know, better.."
"....?"
"Coping."
"Oh. Have I not been okay? I thought I was coping well,"
"You've been quiet."

I really did think that I was coping well with my dads recent death, but I guess I've just been keeping it all in. I learned to accept what was going to happen, I braced myself. I was relieved when he passed because I don't want him to suffer anymore, but what hurt the most was thinking about all the things that wouldn't be able to happen.
I've kept to myself, lying in bed listening to music, or spending my time online, looking through photos on tumblr but not posting anything, constantly opening a "New Post" window on blogger but never quite finding the words to express myself.
I'm trying to let go of the pain and carry on. I don't really know what to do, if I'm moving on too quickly, or not. I'm just really tired of being stuck in the house with nothing to do but think and reminisce. I want people to know but I don't want to be the one to tell them. I guess that's why I'm writing this here, and not on tumblr. Because people who actually care about me and read my nonsense check my blogger.
I wrote a letter to my dad, when we got home from the crematorium. It made me cry a lot. I'll post it on here when I get the chance to.
What I'm really worried about is what life will be like after. Steph and Jayne are here now, and the wounds are still fresh, but what about when they leave? When the wounds scab over but are still sore and visible. It'll just be mom and I living in the house. The two of us. And then I'll go to college, and mom will be left alone. I dont want to think about how lonely she'll be.

Things are getting a little more personal.

So I wanted to apologize for all the heavy blogposts, they can't be that much fun to read. You've probably figured it out that I'm going through something right now, which is far too personal to be posted for the world to see, I guess. I might blog about it when it's all over with, which is Idontknowwhen. I've decided to just take a deep breath and carry on with a strong heart, and to stop whining like a little bitch on the internet.

My sister Stephanie arrived today! And Jayne arrives tomorrow, which is awesome. They both stayed in Malaysia when my parents and I moved to the Philippines so I only get to see them around Christmas time.

While waiting for my mom to get to the car, Stephanie actually asked me if I'm still a virgin. I had a feeling she'd ask, since I'm 17 and that's the most common age for... "cherries to be popped". I told her honestly that I am (not that you guys care) but she still says she doesn't believe me and she never will because it's my body so only I will know. We then proceeded to talk about drugs. Haha, what a wonderful sister. You might be thinking that she's a bad influence or whatever, but really she's great. She helps me open my mind and she really makes me consider different aspects towards something before making my final decisions.

Anyway, I really want to make this blog a bit more personal + worth the read. I'm dying to have a lot more views and comments and followers. Steph told me that a blog is the best way to get an early start for my writing career, since she has friends who blah blah blah.

She and mom complimented my writing :) highlight of the day!

Grief hangs heavy, overhead.

My mind is blank and I am speechless. My opinion lies in the back of my mind where my mouth can't find the courage to bring it forward. Why the fuck is life so unfair?
I'm up all night and not eating properly because I can't bring myself to sleep or even spare a second along with my thoughts. I'm running away from feeling anything because right now I can't afford that. I need to be strong for those who are too frail to carry the weight of their own grief.
The time would come, we all knew that. But who would've known that the struggle would be so hard? We'd face such difficult choices, stand in between forked roads with such heavy consequences on our shoulders. Our consciences are filled doubt and endless questions.
Please let this end soon.

I'm eating strawberries.
Their pulpy flesh bursts beneath my teeth.
Blood red juice slips through my fingers and under my nails.
Sweet flavour lingers on my lips, snatched away by my thirsty tongue.

April 6th.
I'll remember the date I said hello to grief and despair.

I refuse.

I've been numb since yesterday. I find it wise to keep face and stay calm when the people around you are falling apart. In the midst of all this chaos, I want to be what remains stable. I will let myself feel the pain when you no longer need me to be sane.

The Gates of Hell have just creaked open and I am dragged in without time to think. I do not kick, I do not scream, I remain composed as if my face has been masked for my own protection. I know better, though. And it is not for my own, but for others.

I look every demon in the eye except for those which live in me, those which caress my idle thoughts from the back of my mind and linger in between questions of wrong and right.

I just got here, but I cannot wait to get out, I am slowly sinking deeper in my own denial. Time either freezes, or melts into itself, creating an illusion of eternity. Either way, I am lost in the hazy emotion I refuse feel.

There is nowhere to run, for every time I try,
I find myself at the same crossroad.

I've done something really bad. Half of me wishes I hadn't done it. Half of me thinks that I only wish it came true straight away, and skipped the torture of slowly getting there.
I've done something really bad and it's killing me inside. I want to tell myself that it's not my fault, that it's just plain coincidence. But I still believe that I played some part in it.

Ocean calling.

There have been so many people this school year that have affected me in some way. Some of them were people I have known and loved for a while, some of them were people I had never met before, some of them have no idea that they made such an impact. But to all of you, whether you know who you are or not, I want to thank you.

THANK YOU

I think that this has been the most eventful year in all of my years in the Phils. Never before have I grown so much, learned so much, loved so deeply and felt so high. I can honestly say that every memory stands out like a vivid photograph in technicolour, bringing forth every emotion and thought that once passed through me at that specific point in time.

Here's to the girls who I spent days practicing dances with, the girls I enjoyed spending time with, the girls I laughed and talked with. I love each and every one of you so much, for making me feel beautiful when I could not feel it myself, for being the group of girls I adore.

Here's to the table I spend my lunches at, the friends I have loved through the years. The wacky, silly, uncensored people I cannot get enough of and hold so close to my heart. To our annual swimming trip and our silly lunchtime escapades. This year had more absentees than last, but things never change when we get back together. Thank you for the laughter, thank you for being the group of people I love to embarrass myself with.

Here's to the friends I loved last year and still hold onto to this day. Nobody can replace you, or our stupidity and immature laughter. You remind me of what it's like to be childish, to be young. You keep the innocence in me alive. To our bonding moments, to one of the most perfect days I've ever had in my life, to fun. Thank you for loving me for who I am and for being who you are.

Here's to the class who moves as one. To the drastic change from angels to what we are now. The laughter, the jokes, the insanity. I will keep this class forever in my heart. We grew so close through every event we had, from not being able to mumble a word to each other, we now share the sickest jokes and actually intend on spending a night all locked up together (oh, dear). I'm brimming with anticipation and excitement, I could not be more ready for the wild time about to arrive.

Here's to the family who keeps me grounded, to the hurtful things I say but do not mean. I express my love with silent obedience, sometimes in a good night kiss, or an unexpected hug. I find it difficult to tell you what you want to hear, to tell you what I want to say, but I hope you remember that I do love you, and I am thankful. To the sisters who live so far away, who I miss with a physical pain and wish were closer to me. You understand be more than I ever knew, you talk to me with open hearts and open ears. You are the best friends I had all along but always overlooked.

Here's to the boy who leaves me speechless. You always know how to cheer me up, make me laugh and make me miss you more than I already do. Never before have I felt so strongly for a person, where a physical ache fills me when you are gone. Thank you for believing in me, for being proud of me and for making me see things in a different light. I can say it a million times, I love you.

Here's to the friends who live across oceans. World's apart, but you live in me. You know who you are and I love you to death, I would not be who I am if it were not for you. The advice, the insight, the conversations. All of it has kept me sane, has kept me alive.

Here is to the teachers that gave it their all, who dedicate each day to helping us grow into who we want to be. I know I've probably disappointed you many times. Each time I failed to do my homework, each time I cheated on a test, each time I chose talking to my friends over listening to your lectures. To the teachers who do not even teach any of my subjects, but helped me anyway. Thank you for your time, thank you for your endless effort.

Here's to the faces I pass in the hallways, your sad eyes or your secret smiles. To those I hug and say hello to, to those I have never spoken to before. Your simple words get me thinking, get me excited for what I haven't faced yet, to the endless possibilities behind the different faces.

Here is to the future, to expectancy, to everything yet to come.

Constantly changing; forever the same.