Introspection | It's Far Too Early In the Morning

To be thinking about these things. I'm sitting here at the Sizzling Pepper Steak in Alphaland again, with a refillable coke that allows me to mooch off their internet for majority of the day. A phone conversation I had turned me introspective and I started thinking about the things that you think about late at night, with a Game of Thrones episode playing on mute while you try hard to fall asleep. So, I'm writing this in broad daylight because ghosts always seem silly when you think about them during the day.

Humor me?

When I was 14, I started writing open letters to people who I couldn't talk to for one reason or another--because anger, because parent, because fear. And yesterday, I found myself crying because for all the wonderful things that I'd found this year, I realized that loss is true when you no longer feel anything for that loss. The deepest, saddest thing about forgetting is that when you forget you don't feel very sad at all. And yesternight, I was sad that I was not sad: I've forgotten and let go of so many things. That is a good thing. But also, it leaves me with a sort of guilt that I feel is useless: aimed at nothing, aimed at no one.

So I wrote a few short open letters. :) If you'd like to read them, you'll find them under here. [Also, forgive the fairytale references--I watch too much Once Upon A Time]

Dearest Hunchback,

Your birthday passed me by--I didn't notice it, this year. It's been 365 days since I sent you that book of CDs and got all Elizabeth Town on your ass. I hope you're happy now. Although I've got the feeling you aren't, at least I can hope you are now. You were right about everything. Thank you for telling me--and rightly so, it turns out--that I was mistaking compassion (never pity, never) for passion. I suppose this is me taking it back again. Not to say I didn't love you--but not in the way you wanted me to or that I wanted to. I wouldn't have been happy with you--because even as friends, we were hardly ever happy together. And you were smart enough to know that. Thank you. Don't listen to Adele. It'll get you depressed. Stick to your creepy-ass goth metal shit.

All my (platonic, distant) affection,

Wina

Big Bad Wolf,

I hear you're abroad now. Stay there. I would like to keep an ocean between you and me for the rest of my life. You taught me that people in positions to impart knowledge don't really want that. They want to feel knowledgeable and powerful and like everything good in your life is only a result of their kindness. What would you have said to me if I was in the room that day, when you lost your mind? I shudder at the thought. My tardiness saves me--from you, from Ondoy. I hope I never see you again. It is sad to say but I will never forgive you for that. And you are the one person who I will not feel a stab of regret for when you die. Big words. But it's like Phil Kaye said: "Hate is a strong word, but is the only strength I have left." 

Cheers!

Wina

Dear Cinderella,

Sometimes I feel bad that we didn't remain friends--although I know a big part of that was my doing. Sometimes there are things that happen and I think of you: you would find that funny or you would like to know about this or that; it still makes me sad sometimes. 

But also, I get why we didn't stay friends. I always felt judged, with you: like I wasn't living up to a sort of standard that you had for your friends. Like I wasn't good enough--I don't mean adequate, I mean nice: dainty, preppy, straight-arrow. I was too impulsive. A little too wild, a little too emotional. 

The mini-success I've had with the store reminded me of you--remember that summer where we spent most afternoons in Pancake House talking about an online store we wanted to put up? Well, I did it! I think you would be proud of me. But also, I'm not sure. I can't be sure. I'd like you to know though that even if we can't really be friends anymore--too much in between: hurt, switched allegiances--I'm so happy you've found your Prince Charming. :) I'm also extremely glad that you're going to get all the things you always told me you wanted: to be a doctor, to be loved, to settle down. 

Wishing you the best,

Wina

Dear Reader,

If you're reading this then I should thank you so, so very much. I was overwhelmed to learn from Google Analytics and the Blogger stats that over 700 people read this blog--both in and out of the Philippines. And that's much, much more than I could have ever imagined. Ya'll have taught me to love my life and to remember to be curious: to always want to know more, to experience more, to live life in love with life. :) 

Much, much love!

Wina