Fiction

  • My 29th Birthday Wish

    My 29th Birthday Wish

    Make a wish.

    Family and friends circled me as I closed my eyes. All I saw was darkness. A black version of the white noise you see on TV when the cable’s out. Squinting harder did not help either. It just amplified the rush and anxiety. I couldn’t come up with a single birthday wish. My 29th. Nothing. I… I… I don’t know.

    It wasn’t always like this. When I was five, I wished for a remote controlled toy car. I got a yellow truck with humongous wheels. On my 7th birthday, after watching Beethoven, I wished for a puppy. Within a couple of weeks, my mom brought home a cute white poodle. We named him Dudley, after Brendan Fraser’s character in Dudley Do-Right. Where is Brendan Fraser anyway? Dudley on the other hand passed when I was in high school. His face was bitten off by a large rat in our backyard. I didn’t see him before he was buried. Not that I didn’t care. I actually cried but I didn’t want to see him like that. I wanted to remember him the way he was.

    (more…)

  • Confessions of an Instagrammer #13

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    We all need the sun in order to shine. Lately, my energy dropped. I’ve been sleeping a lot. I’ve been awfully quiet and if you know me, that’s not right. I just find myself waking up each day waiting for the day to end. And to sleep. And indulge myself with boundless dreams. And yes after watching Inside Out, I could relate more with Sadness.

    This sudden shift of emotion is a mystery to me until finally one morning, it sunk in that I lost my sun. Or at least I’m avoiding him. That great ball of fire that lights up my day. That star that I will never have. I lost my sun and I lost my light.

    Sorry Cristina Yang. I’m not the sun. He is.

    SunMissed the sun. #TBT

  • Confessions of an Instagrammer #12

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    No matter how nice you get, people will still treat you differently.  

    Well, maybe not always always. But we all know the feeling of being left out. Being the last one to be picked for a team in a game of patintero. Walking quickly so your friends would catch up with you, but they don’t. Walking slowly so your officemates can catch up with you, but you’re still left walking alone. No one liking your posts on social media. Petty, but understandable. You were the odd man out. Always on the outside looking in. And you can’t do anything but endure the burning in your eyes, on your face, to your ears, and down to your neck. Because you feel out of place. Because you feel different.

    It’s an awful feeling, I know. I have friends who I do treat as close or perhaps best friends. But I don’t get the same treatment back. I know that I should not expect that they’d care for me the way I do. Expectations ruin things but there are valid ones. Right? To consider a friend, a friend, he has to treat you like one. Right?

    I didn’t know that friendship, like love, can be unrequited too. And it hurts as much.

    Friendship is not as unconditional as a mother’s love. You can only give so much. You give and you give and you give. Before you know it and before you’d stop. You won’t be able to recognize yourself anymore.

    Because I was treated differently, I became different. I became indifferent.

    IMG_0931.JPGI’m not broken.

  • Confessions of an Instagrammer #11

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    Meeting new people can be both frightening and exciting.

    It’s scary to put myself out there pretending not to hear all their judgments or using a less harsh term, first impressions. To stand there in my best clothes, in my straightest stance. Smiling but not too wide. Just a smirk to show the dimple on my right cheek. Overthinking every word that comes out of my mouth, thinking each will make or break my chances of building a relationship I can finally call mine.

    Well, I always put my best foot forward in everything. Meeting new friends included. And even more if I like someone. I share every exciting detail of my life (and maybe exaggerate them a bit) just to keep that someone interested. Just to keep him asking questions. Just to keep the conversations going. Just to keep him wanting more for tomorrow. Wanting more from me.

    The idea of starting a blank page in a stranger’s life gives me the butterflies in my stomach. The beautiful glittery kind not the moth-looking ones. This gives me hope that this person will finally treat me right. The way I want to be treated. The way I’m ought to be treated. Thinking that this may have been the Cinderella moment I’ve been waiting for. The reward for being too kind.

    Just this time and just like every other time, I stand there thinking this may just actually work. Maybe, he’ll be the one. Otherswise, I’ll have to start all over again.

    Life is a cycle of trials and errors. You just have to keep trying until you get the right answer. #thoughts

  • Confessions of an Instagrammer #10

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    What is it with people and New Year’s Days? We love to celebrate the new year so much that we do it twice a year. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the idea of hoping that something good, better or greater will come our way. Hoping that this year will open doors to a new exciting career in marketing, to start a dream cupcake business, have a new pet dog named Miley or as petty as finally winning the lottery (even just a few thousands, please). Hoping for things you’ve never done before and aspiring to write them into your future.

    Or it’s the feeling of unloading last year’s emotional baggage behind. Putting it in a black hole as if it never existed. Waking up and surprisingly feeling better. Lighter. Carefree. Not forgetting, because let’s face it, no one really forgets. But for some reason, the crying has stopped.

    It just feels so good. For the first time in a very long time, I’m happy. No specific reason. I just am.

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    Kung Hei Fat Choi! Wishing everyone a blessed new year! #yearofthegoat