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Literary

To the love I’ve yet to meet

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How do I even start this? How do you write to someone you haven’t met? I’m quite in a struggle so please bear with me and my awkwardness – get used to it though, I really have these moments.

Here goes nothing, I guess. It is amazing to think that you’re out there somewhere, not having even the slightest idea of me. Allow me to enlighten you now. I am not the girl of your dreams or someone who will make you go, “Damn, I wish that girl was mine.” Neither someone you’d see in a crowd nor the best of company to have around. I have my imperfections and those are just a few, but you’ll uncover more on your own. I might be flawed but keep this in mind – I will love you infinitely. I will be that girl, who would laugh at all your jokes; who would know just how you’d like your pancakes to be; who’d kiss you goodnight, and finally, the girl who’ll never get mad at you because I’ll love you that much. More importantly, I will never leave you and be yours and yours alone.

I wonder how we’ll meet – are we going to have one of those cliché cinematic moments wherein our hands touch and our eyes meet and we get mesmerized in each other’s stares? Maybe we’d start off as friends. Maybe we’ve known each other for years. Maybe we’ve been passing each other in the hallways not knowing how important we’ll be to each other in the future. Who knows?

How I wish I could speed up time. I’m just trying to make myself believe that there really is a time for everything. I might be longing for you now; daydreaming of all the things we could be doing, thinking to myself we’d be the best couple around.

On the other hand, things will get rough, that’s for sure. I’ll be difficult, and so will you. It will seem to be as if everything’s falling apart but I’m telling you now, the fight will be worth it. We will be worth it. Let’s hold on to each other, okay?

I am holding on to you now.  I can’t wait to touch your face, to see your bright eyes and your quirky smile. I only hope that when we meet, I won’t scare you away. I hope my flaws won’t stop you. I hope you’d see all of me and still find something to love. I hope you’d accept and know about my past, my present and still want to be a part of my future.

I will be by your side one day and just until eternity.

At least if you’d let me.

I could only hope for so much.

I’ll be waiting…

From the love you’ve yet to meet.

Photo by Chealsea Murphy

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Literary

Confession

It creeps up on me when I eat, when I am sitting in the living room, when I am about to sleep.

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Artwork by Patricia Jardin

To rest is a sin.

In the quiet moments of this new sheltered life, I have come to accept that there is a small dark corner of my mind where all the dates of the calendar are marked. From the first week of April, to the last week of May—it’s all there. It is a small dark corner. It creeps up on me when I eat, when I am sitting in the living room, when I am about to sleep.

This small dark corner reminds me everyday of what’s about to come. I explain that I’m not ready, that I need more time, that this is new territory and I haven’t taken a step further since I came here—it doesn’t listen to me. It tells me to get to work. It tells me that this is my priority, this is what matters the most in this worldwide pandemic. It forces me to listen, to do as it says, to be its puppet to be controlled with the numbers controlling my arms and legs.

But this is just a small dark corner of my mind. There are other corners. Much bigger corners.

To rest is a sin. 

I have yet to be forgiven. 

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Literary

Little Bit of Paradise

You try to breathe in the catastrophe as your thumb keeps scrolling and scrolling and scrolling until the end is reached, leaving a deep void that makes you unable to speak or act.

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Artwork by Patricia Jardin

You wake up to the sight of your room’s white ceiling. The summer heat makes your skin sweat immediately. Piled up papers stare at you from the corner of the room along with unpacked belongings from the dorm––ah, yes. You are home––earlier than expected but still, you succumb to this little bit of paradise.

You breathe in the familiarity of your bed sheet’s smell, let every caress of the fabric give comfort up until you check your phone.

Three hundred thirty-nine new cases. The death toll is now at 704. Recoveries at 1,842. The total is now at 10,610.

This little bit of paradise began to crumble from the inside. Like a volcano nearing to erupt. The summer heat began to burn not only the skin but also made its way into bones and flesh. Piled up papers began to yell, screaming for a continuation. Gentle caresses became tight grips with nails digging deeper into full palms.

You try to breathe in the catastrophe as your thumb keeps scrolling and scrolling and scrolling until the end is reached, leaving a deep void that makes you unable to speak or act.

You see posts from people staying up in their ivory towers while waving their flags of toxic positivity for all to see. You grit your teeth in disgust. The screen refreshes, showing heroes and people trying to survive from exhaustion and hunger.

This little bit of paradise of yours completely crumbles, leaving traces of guilt, fear,  and anger, all in one.

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Literary

Finding Courage

In this time, praying has become a refuge. There is solitude in knowing that you are being heard and that what you are feeling and thinking are valid.

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Artwork by Patricia Jardin

It’s nice to wake up with the thought of having food served on the dining table for the day. When you know that you have a home, your family beside you, and wondering what you will do for the rest of the day. Make Dalgona coffee? Bake? Read? Watch a new TV series? Finally finish your school work?

Watching the news has become a staple in the household. Seeing the cases increase, people helping one another, our frontliners making things easier for us, and the struggle of the people trying to make ends meet despite the difficult situation. Suddenly, watching the news brings tension, stress, and anxiety. 

In this time, praying has become a refuge. There is solitude in knowing that you are being heard and that what you are feeling and thinking are valid. It is okay to be scared in times like these but know that these too shall pass. Courage is hard to find these days but waking up and getting out of the bed is a progress. I hope you find the courage to go on day by day.

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