Why I Am Fighting

Dear Mom and Dad,

Recently, I discovered that the things I am proudest are the ones I fought for. These are the ones that I ceaselessly needled you to give me, or creatively coerced you into giving me the permission to have them. For one, I am very grateful for Ateneo. I know you weren't keen on sending me to this university because you were insisting I go to the one located in Diliman. I am thankful for bending your will to mine because I am ecstatic to find myself standing on this hill - this place I now call home. I am so glad I fought for my dream school because I feel that I am inching towards self-discovery, my self-actualization. I found my vocation here, Mama and Papa.

This is actually why I am writing this down. I want to pursue further studies and teach. This is my passion; this is the one thing I will choose over and over again. I know I went through the stage of wanting different careers but I realized I was wrongly searching and aiming for temporary things. It took me a long way, unlike Ate, but this is what I want to do in life. After the whole doctor fiasco two years ago, I asked God to let His will be done. True enough, I did not get what I wanted that year: JTA. Instead, I found myself applying for a position in Musmos.

Let's get side-tracked a little bit. I will *finally* tell you why I fought for Musmos. Remember when Botchok and Liit spend their summer here three years ago? During their stay, I felt so disconnected and disaffected from them. It's as if they were not my blood relatives. I treated them less than they deserved. And so, when I encountered the so-called "org tradition" in Ateneo, I promised myself and God that I will join a kid-oriented organization. I really wanted to understand my cousins more and relate to them rightly the next time I have a chance. My love-affair with Musmos then began.

Anyway, back to the program. After accepting that I won't be spending my junior year in Singapore or Macau, I asked Him to show me the reasons why I stayed here. As such, a series of events happened:

1. My western history teacher told me that I should get a minor in history. I laughed.
2. My creative writing minor application was halted, first day of junior year. I cried.
3. Danielle told me I have a knack for teaching, and that kids are strangely drawn to me. ACIL then nicknamed me, "child whisperer"
4. Musmos people seconded number 3.
5. ASLA came and strengthened my burgeoning passion for fighting poverty through values formation and network-enabling.
6. Musmos Week, the week-long event I headed, got featured on Ateneo website.
7. I was elected as the Kids' Formation Head (a.k.a. Lesson Plan Maker) this year.
8. ACIL awarded me "Best Catechist" for my area.

I can enumerate other events and memories here but this letter will be too long. I still have a lot to say, haha. With everything that had transpired, how could I ignore the grace, passion and calling He has given me? It's as if everything I went through, down to the bullying I experienced, led me here. Mama and Papa, I can't express how lucky I feel to have discovered this road less-travelled because I know a lot of people who are lost, trying to find their way through the broken bridges and cracked pavements.

I know I sound idealistic and naive. Maybe I am, but I will never let this go. You wanted me to read the late Sec. Robredo's letter to Ate Aika just to let me think this through. And let me tell you, every night I am discerning if I am making sound decisions. I sleep with my logic and emotions saying a resounding yes. Don't worry, I am still figuring things out. I may know what I want my life to turn out but hehe, there are still so many things to learn and realize.

This is why, I am begging you with all my heart, support me. Let me go. Let me love and let me get hurt. Let me make mistakes, and let me learn from them. I can picture the repercussions of my actions, and I am more than willing to face them. My life is not for just me anymore. My life is for and with others. In teaching and helping the youth learn, I find myself complete (well, wala pa kong love life but that is another story). Nararamdaman ko sa pagtuturo na ako ay hindi lamang tao - ako ay mas nagiging tao dahil ako ay nagpapakatao.

This is a lot to think about. I'll stop here. If you have any more questions, nasa kwarto lang ako most likely nag-aaral. Haha. I'll understand if you want time and space to adjust.

I love you, Mama and Papa. Thank you for everything. Please take a risk in me.

All my love,
Chelsea

Why?

Dear You,

I've been trying to find the right words, to craft the perfect outline, and to use as many euphemisms as possible. However, cliche as this sounds, I realized that maybe I should just used brutal and raw honesty. You deserve the truth in all its clarity and sharpness anyways. You should probably hear the byproduct of the five-month turmoil you have caused.

I trusted you. You were one of my confidantes. But you. You betrayed me. You made that choice. You turned everything upside down with just that conversation.

If we were to meet today, I will probably wish that you will disappear into thin air, never to turn into solid form again. But then, maybe you should be intact still because you just have to answer the questions that keep me up at night. Okay, no harm shall befall on you until you reach the end of this letter.

Did you respect me? As a woman? Did you ever think of the consequences before doing that? Why did you do that to me? To US? I thought I was like a little sister. Do you do that to your biological sister too? You said that you love me. Was that an act of love? Huh? WAS IT?

You took away a huge part of my sense of security. Ever since that day, every time I see your name on social media, I get these annoying tingles and my heart beats so fast my chest starts to hurt and I just can't breathe. Suddenly I just shake uncontrollably in front of my laptop and tears just pool out of my eyes. I didn't know who to tell and who to turn to because I was so angry at myself. I was so angry and fearful and hurt. And still, I am hurt.

So tell me. Why did you have to sexually harassed me?

Why?

Please. I beg you. Answer me.

2:30 PM

Anonymous said: Tell me a story, darling.

She looks at him as though he is her whole world.

Every day, the ocean-eyed lass chooses the second row seat nearest to the window just to get a glimpse of his rusty, brown hair every time he walks by at exactly 2:30 pm. While the wall clock’s hands have not grasped the time she is waiting for, she pretends to listen to her ancient English teacher whose voice came from the renaissance. She scribbles notes about Shakespeare, and doodles roses while her mind is far away from the lectures about E.E Cummings’ poems. She simply exists as the class wallflower, aware but not participating.

However, when the boy with the rusty, brown hair struts away dutifully during 2:30 pm, she blooms like the sun. Her back straightens, her eyes sparkles with focus, and her mind wakes up from the fairytale illusions she sleeps with. Her neck would turn at 45 degrees to the right, and suddenly, quite suddenly, the world is such a lovely place to live in. 

--

Note: Published this short story two years ago on my tumblr blog. 

Word Vomit: Two weeks.

Sitting here inside the warm coffee shop with Yiruma playing his keys to my ear, I realized that this moment would have been perfect - would transcend the large block of almost - if you were here.

You, who brought out irrational words from my controlled temper. You, who would simply stare at the windows as your mind wanders off and goes to journeys only you will know. You, who looked at me like I am some kind of beautiful anomaly that randomly walked into the scenery. Not that I am saying I am beautiful but you make me feel that I am. You, who made me stirred from my dreamless slumber. You, who I cannot categorize.

I am not a writer of candied pieces. I tackle tragedy, despair, yearning and unrequitedness of things because they were the ones I am familiar with. But you - the mere presence of you - whisper sweet nothings to my addled mind.

Autumn is coming. I hope you stay, if only for a while.