What I’ve Always Wanted To Tell You

Thank you.

You gave my life a different perspective. Before you I never thought feeling things would be okay. You made me think that maybe, some risks are worth it. Maybe you and I, we’re worth it. You made me re-think every possible good thing that can happen.

I’ve never been one for relationships and commitment. They take too much time to maintain. I have better things to do, I always tell myself. But with you, you make me question why I ever felt like I was made to be alone. You made me believe that maybe, even the most broken people can be pieced back together with a tight hug from the right person. You made me believe that you were the right person.

Before you, I had a negative look on life. I always thought that love can change everything, and love can make it all better. But I also knew for a fact that it didn’t. Love will fall apart sooner or later. I guess you can say I’m a realistic optimist. I knew that even if I invested time and effort and feelings into someone, there wouldn’t be a chance still because the universe has a way of playing with people to make them feel like this is it.

I’ve never felt for anyone the way I felt for you. You were something else. It kept bothering me that maybe, just maybe, this story would actually happen. Maybe you’d be brave enough to take my hand and write with me. Maybe you’d take a leap of faith over fear just to say that maybe, maybe we should be together. I can’t shake off the feeling that we could’ve been something amazing.

I don’t feel sad. I’m not angry or bitter or back in that loveless zone I was in before I met you. I guess I just realized that this isn’t supposed to be. Maybe the universe was right this time to keep us apart. Time and space are relative. In another life, maybe it could have been. But for now, you’re my favorite what if. You’re the thing that keeps me questioning. For now, you’re nothing but a “could’ve been”, a “would’ve been”, a big “maybe”, if only the universe was on our side.


To My Future Daughter

Dearest girl,

All my life I’ve prayed for you. I’m not sure if you will grow up with a father, since I never planned on getting married. I hope you will not hate me for this. I hope you will feel like having me is enough. I will do my best to be everything you will ever need in a parent. I will make sure you have food in your tummy and good thoughts in your head before you go to sleep. I will indulge in your passions and love it as much as I love you.

Someday, honey, you will let go of me. You’ve lived your entire life with me by your side but I want you to know I am right here. You don’t have to be afraid, because if there is something I can promise you, it’s the fact that I will be with you through anything. I am just one call away if you ever feel like this world is too much for you. You will feel lonely on some days and I hope and pray you find solace in my company.

One day, someone is going to break your heart. I’m in no place to say who, or when, or how, but when it happens, I will be your wall. You can lean on my shoulder and stain my best sweater with your favorite mascara and scream into my ear that the world is unfair. I’d understand.

Darling, I don’t want you to end up like me. I promised myself I’d be the parent I never had. If you don’t feel like getting up on bad days, tell me and I’d lay with you to talk about what bothers you, or what makes you happy, or who you’re in love with. I want you to find peace with me, even if we won’t always get along. Even then, I’d love you. I’d rather talk to you about whatever it is you’re going through rather than see you drown yourself in bottles of vodka alone in your room. We’ll toast with wine instead.

I believe you will go great places. You will succeed on most days, and fail on others. If the day comes that you lose faith in yourself, remember that I always believe in you. I will be your personal cheerleader all the time, even if it gets embarrassing for you. Someday, you will have your own family, my love. You will have your own children to care for. I hope you tell them about me. I hope you never forget that the love of a mother is eternal and that all the love I gave you, I saved up since the day I was born. I want you to know that the way I care and love you is the way I wish I was loved and cared for. Remember me as the mother who loved her daughter the way she was supposed to love herself.

All the best,


You’re Worth A Lot

Your standards are too high.

It’s crippling to hear these words come from a friend’s mouth, more so from a suitor. It pains you and makes you over-think it, slicing and dissecting those five painful words into syllables and letters, finding the accuracy of it rather stifling. What you aim to do next is see where you’ve set the bar far too high and lower it to match the others.


You should never listen to people who tell you you’ve got your standards too high. Why? Because they’re wrong. There’s obviously a reason why they’re called standards in the first place; people are supposed to live up to them.

A woman should keep her head, heels and standards up. All the time, every time. Never settle or lower your expectations for someone. If they don’t fulfill what’s on their shoulders, they’re undeserving. They can fall in love with you for all your worth once they’ve proven themselves.

One thing a woman must always have is knowledge. The knowledge of what she wants, the knowledge of what she is worth and the knowledge of realizing the difference.

If you want the guy you’re going to end up with to have a stable job, so be it. You’re a strong and independent woman who can pay for your expenses so what can he contribute to you?

If you want the guy you’re going to end up with to have a car, so be it. You can afford to transport yourself going to where you need to be, so what would you need from him if he didn’t?

If you want the guy you’re going to end up with to have the same religious views as you, so be it. You wouldn’t want someone who you’ll argue with about the simple working of faith and the force. You want someone who you can hold on to for hope and salvation, not someone who will contradict it.

If you want the guy you’re going to end up with to be intellectual, so be it. You are educated and it would be a drag to have to put up with a man who’s mentally incapable of keeping you interested in a topic other than pizza and football. Need I say more?

If you want the guy you’re going to end up with to pamper you and spoil you with luxuries, so be it. You can claim a gym membership and have weekly mani-pedi’s with matching haircuts by yourself, surely he must contribute twice of what you can do.

Whenever anyone would tell you that you expect too much, look them squarely in the eyes and say: “Yes, I know I do. I demand for a lot, simply because I am worth a lot.”

How You’ll Find Out He Isn’t The One

You will not listen until it’s too late.

You’ll meet him at the most random place, at the most random time. You didn’t expect him; you just prayed for him. You wished someone like him would come into your life, and he does, right when you don’t expect it. He will ask you out to coffee, and you will hesitate. You go anyway. He takes you to a nice place, somewhere near you for your convenience. What you don’t expect is he brings his family with him, and you meet them for the first time, totally unprepared and looking very haggard from work. He doesn’t care; he tells you, you look pretty. You will lead him to Starbucks, and he will buy coffee for the both of you: Dark Mocha, his favorite. You ask about his siblings and what University they are in and you watch him in the light and see how beautiful he is; right then, you know he isn’t the one.

You go out with him again, and he takes you to a parking lot. It gives you a thrill, and it becomes your parking lot – the one you share with him. You’ll talk about his past over a couple of smokes, and you’d realize how deep of a person he actually is. You’ll have your first fight over a girl he knows, to which he denied his feelings for you. You’re hurt, but you pretend you’re not, and he makes it up to you the best he can. Your heart will soften. He promises he won’t do it ever again and that he’s sorry that he did. You realize, he isn’t the one.

You write for him. This boy doesn’t read, but he will read all your works about him, because he cherishes it. Through it, he finds out things about you and what you think of him. He loves it. You will fight with him on your first month – you will fight with him a lot – but by this time, you have forgotten what you fought about or if it was even worth it. You will have endless sleepless nights together, on the phone, just talking for hours until the sun comes up and hear him fall asleep on you slowly, his breathing the only thing you hear. You will find it endearing, but you already know, he isn’t the one.

After numerous fights, you break up with him. For good this time. And you don’t expect him to walk away, but he does. You will spend your nights regretting him for all he’s worth and the time you wasted with him when you could’ve been with someone else. You will stalk him and feel bad when you realize he’s moved on without you. You get angry at yourself. And you say you should have listened the first time you said he just wasn’t the one.

You always knew, but didn’t listen. You knew because of the way his eyes sparkled when he first saw you, and you knew it wasn’t supposed to be like that. He wasn’t  supposed to look at you like you were the prize; you were the challenge that he had to win. You knew because the one isn’t supposed to mistreat you the way he does, even with the most minor things. He’s not supposed to be insensitive to how you feel. You knew he wasn’t the one because he falls asleep on you regularly and you let him, but when it comes to you, he gets mad. He was unfair. You knew he wasn’t the one because he made you regret. Happy times were not enough to overpower the bad.

You will wish you can restart your love story all over again. Because the heartbreak is fresh, you will want it to be right this time. You will do everything to make it right. But when you learn to be smart and think for yourself, you wouldn’t want to do it again. You will be happy and contented, and you can safely say that if you were given a chance to meet him again for the very first time, you would walk the fuck away. Because he just wasn’t the one.

Things You Won’t Do With Your Next Boyfriend

The first time you meet him, you won’t be late for a class. You won’t be flustered and walk past by him without noticing him. You wouldn’t have three friends crushing over him the moment he enters the room, and fail miserably as they try to keep their cool. You won’t meet his sister on that first day, and he won’t find you on Facebook on that first day, and he won’t chat with you on that first day. You won’t go out with him after a week of meeting him and you won’t say yes to being official the week after that. You won’t sit with your mom at the pool, contemplating life and your future with this stranger. You won’t find yourself thinking of how happy you are with him all the time. You won’t write for him anymore. You won’t give an eight-page letter or a seventy-five-page diary, dedicated to all the moments and days you spent together; you will not do that to your next boyfriend.

With your next boyfriend, you will not spend the whole day together doing nothing but walk around and play basketball. You will not go on dates and look over at other couples who seem to be enjoying each others company, unlike the both of you who seem to be enjoying the other things. You will not lose your mind over a fight at nine p.m. and be forced to say “I love you” too soon, to which he reprimands you. The first time it falls apart, you will not sleep it off like it’s nothing and desperately wait for his texts. The seventh time it falls apart, you will not tell yourself to wait for the eighth.

You will not become too close to his mother, and you will not be distant with his sisters. You will not get intimidated by that sister you met on the first day. You will not feel loved whenever he tells you that you are more important than them, because there won’t be a chance; you will not ever feel left out by his family. You will not be forced to dress to the nines every single time you meet him. You won’t, because now you know that someone fell in love with your simplicity (jeans, shirt, sneakers) and that’s how they would like to keep you as. You won’t change for the worse.

You will not have multiple public fights with you yelling at him that you don’t deserve this, then end up together again after two days. You will not be able to see a picture of yourself from that very first day, the one he took secretly while you were looking away; you will not blush at that. You will not feel terrified when he is at a photo shoot and his sisters ask you to leave, thinking to yourself if you can put up with this forever. You will not cry over him and his smoking addiction when he gets confined at the hospital, and you will not smile as he tells you “babe, I’m indestructible.” You will  not complain about going places for him, because you understand that it’s the only way to see each other, even if he wants to go to you.

The afternoon of your very last argument, you will not sit at McDonald’s, clutching your phone angrily as you text him “I can’t do this anymore. I give up” and hope that he will chase you, tell you that he loves you. You will not find his message after a while, asking to see you, but only to realize he wants his necklace back. You will not ever feel your heart ache whenever he tells you, “you never loved me emotionally” even if you knew you gave your all to him. You will never give that much anymore. After two months, you will not be crying over him still with a tub of ice cream and your favorite pair of sweats, writing a letter to his next girlfriend and causing them to break up. You won’t meet with him and end up making out until you walk out again for the last time.

Your next will not be the last. He will not be second to the last, not even third to the last. You will wait for him to fulfill all your expectations of him. You will wait for him to have his first fight and see if he hides his emotion behind his sunglasses. You will wait and see if he punches windshields to take out his jealousy. You will wait and see if he protects you and owns you, and if it gives you a thrill like the last time. But when you learn, finally, that love is not a hand-me-down, that it is a custom-made tailored design for him and for you, you wouldn’t wish it any other way.

Sad girls.

You’d never know what humanity is capable of until you put it to the test.

Never tell sad girls that you want them, until you’re ready to be called at three in the morning because of an anxiety attack. Never tell a sad girl you can take it, unless you can put up with hysterical sobs because of a stupid song. Never tell a sad girl you love her unless you really mean it.

These days, all I see are carcasses of once-happy girls that were full of life. Now, they have spiraled down to depression and every single bad thing will lead them to endless nights of crying and will remember it for exactly forever. I don’t pity these girls, because I know by experience that they wouldn’t want pity. They don’t want to be looked at with sad eyes and with thoughts that dub them as freaks. They need help, but with little attention as possible.

It takes everything, especially guts, to care for a girl like this. It takes everything not to walk away from her when she needs you most. It takes everything not to give up on her when she’s in one of her fits. It takes patience and enough love to make her feel okay again.

The problem with these sad girls, they aren’t very trusting. They think the whole world is against them and would not want to accept help from anyone, even someone who is deeply in love with them.

What they look for is someone they can love them for everything..

Before falling in love with a sad girl, you must fall in love with her bad things. You must fall in love with the way she pushes you away, but wanting you to chase her back. You must fall in love with the way she craves pizza at the most random times and must be prepared to be her delivery boy. You must fall in love with the way she looks after she showers, or the way she looks when she wakes up, or the way she looks like when she’s crying and find them all equally beautiful. You must fall in love with the way she tears up after finishing a great book and be ready to make her tea and hold her until she gets over it.  You must fall in love with her strength as she tries her best to stay happy. You must fall in love with the way she gets all insecure when she doesn’t wear makeup and always be there to encourage her that she looks amazing regardless.

After that, you can fall in love with the greater things. You can love her for the way she smiles as you push her hair into her ears. You can love her when she dresses up for you. You can love her laugh and her rare and happy moments. You can fall in love with the way she leaves little notes to show you she misses you. You can love her when she cooks for you. You can love her while she asks you to do her look for today or braid her hair or pick out her outfit.

If you can’t love her wholly, then don’t fall in love with her at all.

Prove to a sad girl that you are capable of understanding her with all of your heart, never losing your temper, never lifting a hand, never saying harsh words when she doesn’t deserve it. But also being able to make her the best person she can be without being sad with her. Prove to a sad girl that you are capable of giving her the world to the best you can.

To The Idiot Who’ll Love Me Next

I only have two moods: 1) sleep is for the weak and 2) sleep for a week.

You will appreciate the first on nights that you’ve had too much Berocca in the afternoon and we’d stay up until six in the morning, talking about how much you love dogs and how much I love cats. You’ll get annoyed by the second one on nights I’ve had a tough day and knock out the moment I get home.

We will drink coffee in the morning, preferably something light and creamy, and you’d make a face at me as you chug down your dark mocha chip. But you’ll kiss my lips anyway, even if they taste like caramel cream.

I will twist and turn in bed, messing up the blankets, and you’ll laugh at me, listening to me sleep talk. You will find it amusing, mostly because it’s about you and food. Every chance you get, you’d have that urge to push my 1960’s bangs out of my face because it “blocks the view” and you’ll immediately regret asking me to get them. Together, we’ll wait for it to grow out.

I’d talk to you on and on about books, even if you won’t get my references about Why We Broke Up and Looking For Alaska and Pride and Prejudice. You will, however, ask what my favorite song is, and I can’t tell you just one. You’ll learn about He Is We and Regina Spektor and Owl City, and why I love them so much. We’d watch movies together, and you’d be patient with me whenever I hold your hand during the boring parts, or hug you during the scary parts, or whisper questions to you during the exciting part, over-all killing the suspense. You’d be very patient.

This is all very weird to you, but it’s my blanket. It is warm, inviting, familiar. And you’ll wear it around both of us, reveling in it together.

We won’t go to dinner; we never go to dinner. We’d settle with ice cream for me and smokes for you. But when we do, it’s usually with my mother. I would get annoyed by your indecisiveness on whether you want the chicken wings or the salmon, so I’ll order for you. You’ll smile at me apologetically, thankful that I know you like the back of my hand and chose the right thing. My heart will warm at that.

Soon enough, I’ll stop wearing makeup entirely around you. And you won’t even notice because you thought it was natural. It’s not. I’d start wearing shabby clothes, even shabbier than the jeans and t-shirt you’re used to. I will let you play with my hair and touch my shoulders even if I don’t usually let people do that – you’ll understand why when I explain it to you.

We’ll go on Starbucks dates, basketball dates, walking dates. We’ll forget to check our phones and realize only after fourteen missed calls.

Eventually, you’ll discover me. My shape, my rolls, my muffin tops, my waist. You’ll find that comfortable spot on my shoulder where you sleep as we ride in the cab. You’ll enjoy it when I let you lay on my lap and stare up at me as I pepper you with kisses.

You will always let me walk on your right side.

By this time, you’ve realized it. You’ve realized I’m hard to love. You’ll begin knocking on my walls, the ones I’ve built around my head and my heart – even for you. I have created a temporary image for you to believe, but it will all slip away.

As I grow more comfortable with you, start to worry. Not because you’re boring or tedious or anything, but because I’m beginning to feel secure. It is inevitable. I will pull away relentlessly because I am spontaneous and impulsive and run away a lot of times. By this time, you already know this.

I lose all sense of function when I become too secure because all my life, all I’ve known is insecurity. It will feel very stifling. And I will surely mess up. Many, many times.  You’ll be sad and hurt and angry. You will say and do things that will upset me – sometimes because you don’t mean it and sometimes because you do. I will take it graciously.

I am flawed, you know it, though you will feel fed up. Please know that you are flawed also. But it will be too late before you realize that. The footsteps on our hearts will remain, a trace of each other we can never get rid of. But we will both walk away. In the end, like all good things, we are both flawed. And, like all good things, we will fall apart. All things do. That’s just the way life works.