findingpersonality

[findingpersonality]

[UP]

These days UP feels like just a wonderful dream i had two years ago. Beyond words how much I miss that life. Even if I had to give up everything I have now, I would always choose to continue what I had started that day. I would always choose myself.

[findingpersonality]

[Warm, fuzzy feeling]

I say I'm not so deeply in love yet, but when a damn good love song plays my heart is filled with warmth and my mind is flooded by moments with him.

[findingpersonality]

[Uhh, updates?]

Wow. I can’t remember the last time I’ve journaled here. Maybe its not the time passing by so quickly that I can’t remember, more like so much has just happened that I feel like there’s so many to write. 

It’s been a year and a half now ever since the world became abnormal and we’re stuck at home. Home school, home socialization, home dating? So much has happened. So far, my life for the past few months have been one of the hardest ever since the pandemic. 

Academic wise, after I got a university scholar tag on my first semester in remote learning, I thought that “wow, I’m really good at teaching myself.” So when I had my two months vacation after that, I still studied and completed my requirements. I really had no real vacation, because I chose to, and that’s okay I think, perfectly splendid (bly manor reference). Anyway, second semester started and I was really confident. I could’ve taken extra units instead of the recommended. Turns out, the first semesters’ subjects are easier than second ones, and I started losing grasps on my acads. There were two 1 week breaks, but I didn’t take a break. We quarantined for two weeks because my dad was a close contact of a covid positive. Those two weeks were so...hard. Our house this small, and I had to hear all the noise. We can’t go out, so my dad had to find something to do - meetings, craft things -  all required noise. My brother’s cries wanting to go outside, my online meetings,  my mom’s stressed mumblings because we always have a problem with where can we find food.  It wasn’t the money, it’s whom we can request to find food for us because we can’t go out. I realized then how our nerighbor relatives don’t care for us, not one of them even asked us what we need. My tita from another town even drove to us to give groceries, the vendor whom mom always get vegetables gave us some, my lola who is quite old drops food on the door,  but these people, who are two steps from our doorsteps can’t even ask how we are, even in social media. I don’t think this is an invalid thought. They expect so much from “kamag-anak naman” when it comes from requests, but I swear I can pick up people who have no blood ties from us that act more of a relative than them. I can’t remember how I survived or what I did during the day if not being stressed. My mental health started going downfall from that point. I had to catch up to a lot of backlogs, I had already run for secretary in niners before we were quarantined. Then finals week came, and I knew I’d get an inc in one of my subjects. When I was finishing up the requirement that would get me an inc instead of a drop, along with midyear registration, my lola died. That day I was in queue for registration but had to leave the meeting because my mom was crying so hard. Brave was sick, too, at the time. Mom and Lyza had also just gotten better from fever. I felt so numb that day. My mom keeps doing chores while crying, cooked us fried chicken because Brave won’t eat any other food. I did my requirements in blur, one instance was I was in a timed quiz and Brave puked in the blanket. On normal days I would’ve just said sorry to mom and that I can’t help clean things up, which was in front of me, because I’m in a timed quiz. But all throughout the quiz I was just stopping myself from crying. I’m in a fucking timed quiz that is my last chance to get an inc instead of dropped grade, my brother puked in the blanket in front of me, my mom weeps while cleaning up. I finished the quiz, my mom was done, and I went to the bathroom to take a bath and cry. That day was so hard, my mom didn’t and her first meal was dinner. The next day we travelled to Malabon. That day I had to register because I couldn’t the day before. I was set on not enlisting for a GE subject because I didn’t think I could take anymore - even if i might be delayed. That day I even just want to drop midyear completely, but I know I’ll regret it later. I was just tired, and overwhelmed. I already informed my adviser about my situation, but she keeps giving me cold replies about being delayed and being responsible to my decision. I just though, ma’am, I fucking know. I felt so tired physically and emotionally. The next days, I stayed up 3 nights to watch my lola for the funeral, slept during the day because we’re younger and can stay up late/all night. The last day of funeral was my first day of midyear class. I did a plate the next day since the burial day was moved a day later. We buried lola, went back to cavite. The moment I opened the lights our house was a mess. Not by a person - by rats. They didn’t destroyed most of our things, but their mess was everywhere. Tired from the burial day and the 3 hours travel, we had to change the bedsheets, dust the stuff, sweep and mop the floor with bleach. We basically had an impromptu general cleaning. The mcdo take out we ate after the cleaning had to be one of the best meals ever. 

Home, that’s what I thought that time -  even Brave. He suddenly was back to his loud, smiling self again at home. He was different back in manila - silent, timid and not moving much. He can really only be truly comfortable here in our small house. 

My life continued after that. It was quite better. Orgwork, plates, I even had time for the paper quilling project I was working on. I also caught up with my friends. Kams, Pau, and me had time to hangout - I missed them so much. Pau is having a hard time with acads and maybe other stuff she doesn’t talk about too. Kams was away from here mom and sisters, and she’s not perfectly well either. But that night was so important for me. I miss them so bad. Gail, Erika, and me also hanged out - before we found a good movie it was so late. We talked and talked about the things we do, how are we doing mentally. Some moments were awkward - like we don’t know what to talk about. I found that quite cute actually. I appreciate spending time with each other so much despite not having much to talk about -  I still look forward to talking to them again. Jernil also went to our house, it was so great. If I have one friend whom I know can accept me fully for who I am, who can get along with my family so well, who can read my face and my chats and my moods easily, who can give me so much respect and tell me my mistakes - its jernil. She’s one of my best friends and I can’t live without her. Just hours ago - Shalom also chatted me after almost a year. She’s anxious about reaching out to friends - something I can relate to. It was a short talk - about 20 mins, and I invited her to hangout with some of our friends again. Shalom and I have a relationship bonded by deep talks. We rarely talk, and reached out each other when we needed advice, I once called her while crying ugly at dorm when I was so tired of everything - and I needed to hear someone’s voice. She quite saved me from being crazy when she answered that call, and I’ll never forget that. 

And here I am now, writing this. I was lying down after doing a plate, and I said I’d think tonight. I’m listening to Meltt -  a band I fell in love to because of Josh. I was thinking of Josh before I wrote this, when I first listened to Meltt because it was in his Bumble bio. Almost a year ago we were just talking like new friends do - what we do in life, principles, what we like in ourselves. How I gradually fell in love with him - still am falling til now actually. The times I’m listening to this music while thinking of how wonderful of a talker and a person he is. The day we first met - I can’t describe the warmth I feel in my heart, and in the veins of my hands whenever I think of him so close to me, finally. Now we are approaching our 7 month together. How I am not really that giddy to talk to him now - because he became my home, my comfort, my silence, my peace. 

So much to talk about right? Time seemed to fly so past. Sobrang dami kong narerealize about myself. Time is gold talaga these days. Even if it seems like sobrang dami mong time in your hands, every minute seems so important. Every minute you spend doing different things required so much energy from you. And I learned to prioritize and give time to things that are important to me. My acads, my skills, my hobbies, the people I love, securing my future, etc. If before, spending time with each ot these planets that make up my solar system was a natural thing, this pandemic it slowly became a task that I have to allot time and energy for. And I take care of myself so I can have the energy. And it’s always gonna be worth it, going through all the hassles -  because it makes me happy. My planets gives me purpose and genuine happiness. 

P.S. I missed writing my thoughts like these. Just for myself - transparent and peaceful. I’m glad for this day. The world is hell, but this life is still worth living, indeed. 

[findingpersonality]

[Chest Pains]

I miss my boyfriend so much it hurts. It hurts so bad.

[findingpersonality]

[Issues]

I'm still having a hard time allowing myself to depend on people.

[findingpersonality]

Things I love about my boyfriend, Josh (wholesome version)

1. He gives the best damn movie thoughts/reviews. Sometimes I ask him for a movie date, even if I've already seen the film, just to know his thoughts about it. He has a very fascinating way of viewing people, behavior, and stories.

2. He looks cute when he's processing his thoughts. Related to number one, many times I find myself enjoying watching him process the film, just moments before he give his "the movie is..." then his speech goes on.

3. His voice. End of discussion.

4. Nope not the end of discussion. I mean HIS VOICE. Like how can a voice pull of a range of tones?

5. The way he can listen to my babbling for hours. I can talk for like, hours and he wouldn't get tired listening to me. And i mean LISTENING. As in responding in a thoughtful way.

6. He has a soft, warm, and beautiful hands. My hands feel small when wrapped around by his.

7. He asks me first before hanging out "Do you wanna vid call/hangout tonight or you want to have time for yourself?" I mean damn

8. His face right before he smiles widely. The way his eyes slowly thins, and his smile that melts me it sends chest pains everytime.

9. The way his sleeping face washes me with warmth and peace, just like right now.

10. Warm hugs.

[findingpersonality]

[Good people]

If I would name a common characteristic with people I truly love, it’s this: they make me wanna be good. 

[findingpersonality]

[Bedtime stories]

Even before I was a child, I couldn’t recall a moment when someone read me a story to sleep. Even if I listen to getsleepy podcasts, I could still finish a story before I feel really sleepy, sometimes it’s not even effective. 

But his voice. His laugh. The right amount of baritone and deepness and softness at the same time. The way it slightly curves to a lighter, smaller octave when he says my name. Wait what the fuck this sounds so cheesy :( 

But it’s true. He read me a story last night so I could fall asleep. He wasn’t in the mood to write his paper anymore. He could’ve played games, browsed on social media, watch vtubers. But no. He chose to read me a story to sleep :(((((((((((( 

It’s one of the sweetest thing someone has ever done to me.

It’s the combination of me loving books in general, him reading a twilight fan fiction for me (twilight, my favorite series of all time-tho it’s my first time hearing a fan fiction), his voice which I’m sure I’m in love with, his presence and warmth, which I feel so much even behind the screens, the peace he is giving me, and him. Just him as a whole. 

I could’ve said there and then that I’m in love with him. I feel it. Maybe it’s not that deep of a love, maybe not as much as he loves me (idk), but I know I wouldn’t look at someone else. I love his kindness, empathy, the right amount of naughtiness, even, the way he treats his family, the way he values his friends, the way he prioritizes his goals in life, the way he is not the stupid kind of kind, the way he is aware of social issues and has his own opinions towards them, the way he is so righteously selfless and caring for other people but still loves and takes care of himself, the way he is growing everyday and is willing for more growth for himself and for us,  the way I am in his plans-----there’s a lot of reasons why I love him and most of them are too specific to be listed. But I still couldn’t say it. I will. Not now, but I will.

I can just imagine the dive my feelings would do once we’ve met. 

[findingpersonality]

[Liking someone, and the guy who made me reflect on a decade of relationships]

Did I really like someone? Meeting Josh has triggered this question. I never asked this to myself before, because I never felt this strongly connected towards someone. And this feeling, is something I’m figuring out every day. Ever since I found myself investing time, which started from day 1 pa lang btw, up to the night he said it explicitly, up to this moment of typing this, it’s something I’m very much aware of, keep on threading, and validating. Because we met in such a way I’ve never experienced before, I keep asking myself if our feelings are reliable. I even asked a friend who somehow experienced it. I’m not sure how he really feels about this thought. But that’s another story. I just mentioned it here to establish na I like Josh, and nothing else muna.

Anyway, I think I’m giving the phrase “liking someone” too much concrete definition. Sure when I searched about liking someone, romantically of course (which I did just for the sake of finding out what the world thinks), it says something along the lines of “treating/thinking of someone in non-platonic way.” Vague. It defined “liking someone” by explicitly separating its meaning to another way of “liking someone,” and not by actually defining by its own, unique concept. Basically, walang kwentang definition.

But, that alone, tells me I shouldn’t confine “liking someone” in a box of words. It’s something that concerns 1) the world’s definition of liking someone 2) who are you at the time you’re liking someone. Madami pang iba, pero ‘yan na siguro pinaka-relevant for this thought analysis. Char.

When I became involved with different people romantically, I always remember when, fortunately. And the “when” matters most. I think I’m being unfair to my past selves. Yeah selves. Pero valid ba ‘yun? If I, and people in general, change every day should I really use a plural? Lmao ewan pero for the sake of this entry, sure. So ‘yun nga I’m a different person for each of those people, and that should matter in assessing my feelings towards this people.

It’s like when I asked, for example, three of my friends the reason they like someone, it’s gonna be different for everyone. Siguro ganun din dito. I am a different person everytime.

So to say it explicitly, yes I liked someone. I liked them all.

When this thought triggered, I am basing it too much on how, the 2020 me, feels about Josh, a person met by this 2020 me. It’s unfair to say that I didn’t truly like Kaniel or Serg before just because what I feel with Josh is different. At the time I had my own way of thinking, and the way my feelings developed are different, for everyone. Kaya yun. At that time, I like this guy because of this reason. The next I like because of a certain reason + I established that this is what I like about someone + he’s not someone like the previous guy. So it’s more like, an exponential growth. I’m learning something new as time passed by, influenced highly by my friends, the things I read and see. But at the time, my feelings are valid.

Josh said something about these people and their inconsistencies. The best way I can put it is, the inconsistency part applies more to me. I shouldn’t expect my relationships to be consistent, because, well trivial, they’re different people. Maybe I was the inconsistent one. And that’s not a bad thing, because I’m growing.

And this inconsistency thing affected my expectations of people nga talaga, like he said. I just don’t want to expect something from anyone else, and this made me somehow stopped growing? It made me passive somehow in this aspect, because I just wanted to see what people can give me, tapos I process ko na lang kung gusto ko ba yun or what. Pero ngayon, because of these, non-expectancy thing, and him coming to my life, there’s a looooot of things na biglang parang bago tuloy for me. The things I discover about myself with him. The things I didn’t know I liked, or disliked, slowly becomes clear every day. And I just started asking, if these things are my standards, what did I like about those people?

If Josh and I will really become much more than what we are now, and we broke up (lmao speed 1000x), which is painful I don’t even want to consider it, I think I might have very high standards I just won’t ever meet someone else. Chos. The point is, he is helping me grow. Grabe di pa kami nagkikita nito, what more pa kung walang fucking pandemic?

But then again, I’m asking these things now because I am much more grown up, and this is the 2020 me. I have changed vastly just this past year, mostly because of the environment I have been exposed in in UP. And it’s been a year since I’ve been involved with someone. So I guess Josh, him being all the wonderful things that he is, and I, being a much more better version of me, just happen to meet at this crucial point in my life.

[findingpersonality]

[This one awesome guy]

I've never felt this way before. Of actually wanting to get to know someone better. To actually imagine being with someone. To consider someone's friends and family to be my friends and family, too, even if I don't know them yet. To actually get to hold someone. Hugs, kisses and more.

To feel frustrated that I can't, right now, because of circumstances both of us have no control over.

I am becoming too deeply involved, and I am falling, slowly.

There I fucking said it.

[findingpersonality]

[Anger]

I am not very proud of it, but I really have ugly anger habits. I have improved over the years, and I am a lot more patient now than I was one or two years ago, but I still get angry. 

I get angry whenever there’s something I really want, and I can’t get it because of other people. And so I get angry for two reasons, one anger for that person, and another for me, for being angry to that person.

For now this is the only way I can manage my anger. To not talk to anyone for a few mins, listen to some music, or grind a paper for school. Anything to take my mind off of things and forget that I’m angry. 

I still get surprised that it is effective. And now I’m writing these up. I don’t know else how to manage my anger, if there’s a more effective way, one that doesn’t involve hurting and making the people around me uncomfortable by being eerily silent. But for now, it is. 

I’ll trust experience, and people I’ll meet, to teach me other ways, in the future. 

[findingpersonality]

[Words]

You think you’re good with words until other people’s fool you.

Words. shit haha

[findingpersonality]

[The day after]

So after that messed up night one would’ve thought that we lived happily ever after. I told them everything, right?

But no. It’s been four days now, and I haven’t eaten dinner with them since that night, because I don’t want to feel awkward during my term to pray. Yeah I’m a coward. But I kinda blame them, too. Because since that night, after all the ugly mess I’ve said and made, they still won’t ask me to sit down and talk. I wish they would. I fuckingly wish they would.

There were some things that, thankfully I remember shit even after I’ve recovered from a drunk night, cleared my mind. But mostly I just feel uncomfortable. Because when you’re drunk you just say what you want, but there’s no resolution. There’s no, addressing of the problem, and I think that ought to be done the day after. But none. Silence.

I think we all eased up a bit, like I can feel that mom is trying to be better, and I feel myself trying to be better, too. We really are good with fooling around, cracking jokes and all. We’re sweet. But when it comes down to painful things, some things were still unsaid. There’s no proper apologies, or thank yous, or I love yous. Still no communication about the things we’re stressed about.

That’s why I’ve written, wow, three entries tonight. While they argue, and I try to study, but I couldn’t, and I’m stressed out. Because I don’t know what to do. I wish they talk to me. Please talk to me.

[findingpersonality]

[Drunk, dangerous night]

It’s been four days since me and my parents went on a drink to celebrate my 20th birthday. We’ve been on several sessions before, but this time I got really, really, wasted. An ugly.crying.mess.

For my whole life I haven’t told one soul about my family traumas. My family never asked me if I have any, and I never told them. Up until that night i got drunk I thought they just didn’t have the guts to talk to me about it, or to even apologize, or I don’t know, maybe just waiting for me to open it myself because they’re afraid I don’t want to talk about it. 

They’re right. I don’t want to start talking about it. I mean, I can’t open it up (at least when I’m sober). But if they actually told me they want to sit down and talk, I think I can muster up the courage to speak up. 

That night I found out that they didn’t know. That I had family traumas, I mean. 

That night I talked about a loooooot of stuff. Stuff I won’t talk about in sobriety. I did a lot of things that night (god I even confessed to my crush through chat, and he pretended to not notice, and told me “Happy birthday, inom lang!” wtf? so I got kinda rejected. yeah). I remember we talked about my type of guy, me telling them I don’t like guys who baby me and tell me what to do, I remember telling them that I hated not being able to help the poor, and the oppressed, I told them some shit I don’t tell anyone else. God, I even told them how I felt about praying, about me feeling like I’m just dictating lines I’ve memorized whenever we pray, and me being unsure on what or who I believe in.

I started crying when they told me they just want the best for me. And it all flowed from that. I told them I’m doing my best. Suddenly I am telling them every family issues I keep to myself. I told them that I had a lot of realizations, and one of them is the thought of being there with my sister when she feels down. Because I don’t want her to feel alone. Because I don’t want her to feel what I felt before, during what I call, “the dark times.” I told them my disappointments when they let my sister cry in the bathroom whenever she feels sad, and they don’t even ask her if she’s okay. I asked them why they don’t even ask us whenever we feel sad. I told them everything I knew about that issue, I told them everything I’ve read. I asked them why they neglected me, that they’ve moved on and apologized to each other and forgiven each other, but why did they not even ask me if I’m okay. I told them I felt so alone, I told them I haven’t got any reliable friends before unlike how I do now.

Yeah, I told them that while crying ugly.

My mom cried, and maybe I wouldn’t even notice that she did if dad hadn’t told me to stop because my mom is hurting. At first, I thought, why would he say that? It’s me that’s hurting right now. Then I realized later, when they told me, that they didn’t know that I knew and told me what really happened.

Basically, my mom were just rebelling against my dad because she felt cheated on. Well I guess she was actually cheated on, but I’m not so sure because I don’t know dad’s issues. But then I realized why dad stopped me from saying more that night. He’s in pain, to see mom suffering from my words, when in fact, it’s basically his fault why that happened in the first place. That’s what he thought, but I’m not justifying what my mom did, it was all wrong, too. All these years I thought dad was the victim and that he was the one who suffered through it all.

I was awfully wrong. We all suffered.

[findingpersonality]

[Struggles of living in a one-roomed house]

Our house is very small. As in, like the title, one room. Or two? Well except the C.R., there’re only two doors. So yeah we basically don’t have much privacy. Alone time is really a great privilege for everyone. 

One struggle I, personally experience is when my parents argue. They don’t fight loud, they don’t shout. They just whisper for us not to hear them fighting. But of course that’s useless, because we can hear almost everything everytime. 

What me and my sister do is get earphones, plug it in our ears, and keep ourselves “busy.” Some nights I actually play music, some nights I don’t. 

This is one of those nights that I have some space for additional stress, so I didn’t play any music, and listened to them through the muffled barrier of my earphones. 

Typical argument of them. My dad goes home late because of work, commute problems, or some other reasons. Point is, my mom doesn’t care about his reason. Not in a way that he doesn’t care what he says. She just doesn’t mind my dad going home late as long as he tells us beforehand, or calls that he’ll be late. Her point is, he always tell us, his children to text everytime we go home on an unprecedented time, and it’s kinda ironic for him to lecture us when he does it himself. 

So how does that affect me? I feel stressed because they don’t have privacy. It pains me to think that they feel even more awful because they know that we can hear them. They don’t want us to see them fighting.

Even worse is, I don’t know what to do. These days I try to be considerate of other people’s feelings, and I try to be sweet with my family as much as possible. But after last last last night, when I got drunk as hell and cried in front of them, I don’t know what to do. 

[findingpersonality]

[They're Unhinged]

Four poems into the book and I feel like I can't take it anymore.

I do read poems. Sometimes I feel them, love them, save them. Sometimes I don't. But those were strangers' works. And the feelings I felt were because I relate. I find their words echoes mine. I like them because they write my story.

But this? This is something else entirely. To read poems written by the person you're close too, it's different. To read their minds and feel like "Where was I when she feels this?" and cross out that thought immediately because this isn't supposed to be about me. This was her, and her soul in paper, out there for me to see. But hell, its was too painful.

I find it very hard to perceive someone I know so dearly thinking that way, suffering that way. Other than the crunching feeling of shock and pain, I feel the uselessness. Because even if how many times see how much she suffered, I don't know how to help her. Even if how many times I see stuff that reminds me of her, I never reached out to tell her. Even if I flip the earth, no thought could have saved her, because I didn't reach out. I've written that this isn't supposed to be about me, right? But it is. It's about her and me and all the people who could have been there to be patient with her.

I don't know if I can continue to read.

[findingpersonality]

[Amigos Mejores]

I stalked her, and it brought fresh pains. I thought I've already gotten over the fact that I wasn't there for her. Maybe in the beginning of our friendship, I was. Maybe the only one there. But that does really matter when I didn't really stay?

I still don't know how we grew apart. We still tell each other i love yous and i miss yous and that we're here for each other. I know that's true. It's true that she'll come if I called. But only if I called. And I know it's too much to ask, but why is that isn't enough for me?

I'm fucking crying right now, again. I just.. I can't help but to blame myself for us being like this right now. What am I expecting? That I'm the first one she calls if she needed advice? That I am her bestfriend for real? Well fuck. It hurts. Because that's exactly what I'm expecting. And it's so shitty for me to do that, when I wasn't even there for her. I wasn't.

I'm fucking crying over my regrets. Maybe I don't regret telling her that I'm a fucked up friend who used her in the beginning. Maybe not that part. But God whoever he is knows that she grew in me, and I've grown to love her and learn from her everyday in those feisty times. What I regret, the most, after confessing to her, was telling myself to live with the consequences. I told myself I will lose her, and I don't deserve her. And there, fuck. I lost her. She slowly faded from me and went to other people. I should've..I should have told her it doesn't matter. I should have begged her forgiveness and told her I still want to be her best friend. I shouldn't have pushed myself away. Fucking regrets.

And now, seeing her achieve the things she have now, I swell with pride. I'm so, so, proud of her. But you know what I wish? That I was there beside her. On the background taking her pictures. Buying gifts. Fuck. I know she doesn't need me. I know because she's strong. But still, I wish I was there. I wish I was there for her.