Things really do change, huh?

I really hate how my life's turning out as of now. I can't keep up with all the change of plans and stuff, and the only thing that I can do is to cry. How drastic can change be?

It was as if I've been stabbed in the knife real hard when my grandmother told me not to attend the Farewell party anymore. It never occurred to me that she can be that evil. But yes, she never even considered my feelings and I don't know if she's numb enough to not know that I don't really want to move in the first place. I contained my tears right through my eyes as she drove us to SM. I bit my lips so as to not let the tears fall. But they're tears, and they're destined to fall. And when they did, I immediately wiped them away and acted as if nothing was wrong, though it's really obvious that there is. Proof revealed right through me.

I closed my eyes, and thought about the feeling of dying. I wanted to kill myself really bad. My first option was to hang myself, because that would make things easier. A scene played right into my mind. It would be night time, right after midnight. I would look for a rope and go outside our house. I would smell the night breeze and thank God silently for the life I have borrowed from him. I would say goodbye and would pray for my family, no matter how dysfunctional our family is, because I love them. I would thank my friends for all the good things that they have done to me. I would then look for a tree with the right size, with the right size of branch as well, so that I could hang myself and kill myself in silence. As I breathe my last breath, I would say thank you to all the people who have never failed to inspire me. And then I would close my eyes.

I never really considered cutting my wrist as an option. I've got hematophobia. And I've had enough pain to bear. Cutting my wrist is way more than I can handle.

Overdose? That's actually my first option. Just like what Veronika did, from Veronika Decides To Die. But I don't really want my mother to think that I killed myself because I wanted to be like Veronika, from the book. She read it already and kind of despised the book for it's ending.

So right then, my decision was made. I would hang myself and kill myself to end this agony. But then I thought of everyone. How my death would make even a small change in all of their lives. And I don't want that to happen. So.. Death. Naah.

I wanted to cry that time, I wanted to lock myself to the nearest cubicle and cry my heart out. But I didn't. I tried really hard to not display any sign of weakness, and as a matter of fact, I didn't. My little cousin and I went to the groceries because she wasn't done with her facial whatever-that-is thing. And then after that, I felt like I'm going to burst like a bubble.

The drive back home was silent. I pretended to read The Lovely Bones at the back. I knew then that she tried so hard to think about the appropriate words to say to me. But I really wanted to cry so bad that I was crying like hell while I was reading. It's good to cry once in a while, right? And to think that I really wanted them to believe that I was crying because of what I'm reading. But then again, it's obvious.

So she told me this, we can have a party next Sunday at our house for my despidida, though she never really mentioned anything about celebrating my birthday. I think she had forgotten about it, or it never really slipped her mind. No, I barely care anymore. She told me to invite my close friends, with a slight hesitation in her tone of voice. Great. I know you don't want to do this, and you don't really have to. Because you just don't know how it feels.

And I cried once again. Pain, slowly precipitated right through my eyes. Like a waterfall. 

When we got home, I locked myself and cried in my CR. I blamed God, and told myself he doesn't exist. Because if he does, he should've done something to stop this pain. He should've answered my prayers and should've done something to make me stay. But no, he didn't. I came to the realization that he had other plans for me. But what about my plans for myself? What about the plans that I have been wanting to do before I leave? Does this confusion mean something else? Is this because God's plans and my plans aren't the same? Does he want other plans, that would contradict mine? Does he love me?

..and the answer called.

My daddy called me after I wiped my tears from my tired eyes. He told me he's downstairs, waiting. I dragged myself downstairs and saw him. I can never forget that moment when I hugged my father and told him that I cannot take it anymore. We sat outside and talked about it. I can hardly breathe as I was talking to my father about how unfair life can be. How unfair she can be. I know he understands, and I know he would do everything to lessen the pain. He gave me tons of advice. He told me to just, go with the flow and to just let them say anything they want to say, he told me never to be affected. To never mind them and to just go on with my life. He told me to strive harder next year, to exaggerate in excelling at school. To be on the top, because that will pay off when I get to College.

He told me that he'll do everything to get me into a good college. He would strive too, and be the father I've always wanted to have. Because he loves me that much. And I love him too.

A few minutes after, mom called. She was mad because I was crying and that she told me to stop crying and to knock it off because I have nothing else to do about the matter. Dad was silently furious. My mom was a bit off the hook, and told me I was being maarte and that I was being selfish. I cried real hard. Mom wanted to talk to me, but no, I didn't. I didn't have to hear about another shenanigans she would say. I'm so tired.

My dad got furious. "Yan lang ba sasabihin mo? Tumawag ka lang ba para sabihin yan? Gets na niya, ok? Gets na niya. Oo, Maarte siya." Click. And then I cried while my dad held me.

"Gusto ko ng mamatay." Was all I could say.

"Ano ka ba? wag kang mag-isip ng ganyan. Basta pagbutihin mo pag-aaral mo. I promise you makakabalik ka dito."

And then I found something to hold on to. My father's words.

-- when silence is torn, the night is broken.

Things really do change, huh?

I really hate how my life's turning out as of now. I can't keep up with all the change of plans and stuff, and the only thing that I can do is to cry. How drastic can change be?

It was as if I've been stabbed in the knife real hard when my grandmother told me not to attend the Farewell party anymore. It never occurred to me that she can be that evil. But yes, she never even considered my feelings and I don't know if she's numb enough to not know that I don't really want to move in the first place. I contained my tears right through my eyes as she drove us to SM. I bit my lips so as to not let the tears fall. But they're tears, and they're destined to fall. And when they did, I immediately wiped them away and acted as if nothing was wrong, though it's really obvious that there is. Proof revealed right through me.

I closed my eyes, and thought about the feeling of dying. I wanted to kill myself really bad. My first option was to hang myself, because that would make things easier. A scene played right into my mind. It would be night time, right after midnight. I would look for a rope and go outside our house. I would smell the night breeze and thank God silently for the life I have borrowed from him. I would say goodbye and would pray for my family, no matter how dysfunctional our family is, because I love them. I would thank my friends for all the good things that they have done to me. I would then look for a tree with the right size, with the right size of branch as well, so that I could hang myself and kill myself in silence. As I breathe my last breath, I would say thank you to all the people who have never failed to inspire me. And then I would close my eyes.

I never really considered cutting my wrist as an option. I've got hematophobia. And I've had enough pain to bear. Cutting my wrist is way more than I can handle.

Overdose? That's actually my first option. Just like what Veronika did, from Veronika Decides To Die. But I don't really want my mother to think that I killed myself because I wanted to be like Veronika, from the book. She read it already and kind of despised the book for it's ending.

So right then, my decision was made. I would hang myself and kill myself to end this agony. But then I thought of everyone. How my death would make even a small change in all of their lives. And I don't want that to happen. So.. Death. Naah.

I wanted to cry that time, I wanted to lock myself to the nearest cubicle and cry my heart out. But I didn't. I tried really hard to not display any sign of weakness, and as a matter of fact, I didn't. My little cousin and I went to the groceries because she wasn't done with her facial whatever-that-is thing. And then after that, I felt like I'm going to burst like a bubble.

The drive back home was silent. I pretended to read The Lovely Bones at the back. I knew then that she tried so hard to think about the appropriate words to say to me. But I really wanted to cry so bad that I was crying like hell while I was reading. It's good to cry once in a while, right? And to think that I really wanted them to believe that I was crying because of what I'm reading. But then again, it's obvious.

So she told me this, we can have a party next Sunday at our house for my despidida, though she never really mentioned anything about celebrating my birthday. I think she had forgotten about it, or it never really slipped her mind. No, I barely care anymore. She told me to invite my close friends, with a slight hesitation in her tone of voice. Great. I know you don't want to do this, and you don't really have to. Because you just don't know how it feels.

And I cried once again. Pain, slowly precipitated right through my eyes. Like a waterfall. 

When we got home, I locked myself and cried in my CR. I blamed God, and told myself he doesn't exist. Because if he does, he should've done something to stop this pain. He should've answered my prayers and should've done something to make me stay. But no, he didn't. I came to the realization that he had other plans for me. But what about my plans for myself? What about the plans that I have been wanting to do before I leave? Does this confusion mean something else? Is this because God's plans and my plans aren't the same? Does he want other plans, that would contradict mine? Does he love me?

..and the answer called.

My daddy called me after I wiped my tears from my tired eyes. He told me he's downstairs, waiting. I dragged myself downstairs and saw him. I can never forget that moment when I hugged my father and told him that I cannot take it anymore. We sat outside and talked about it. I can hardly breathe as I was talking to my father about how unfair life can be. How unfair she can be. I know he understands, and I know he would do everything to lessen the pain. He gave me tons of advice. He told me to just, go with the flow and to just let them say anything they want to say, he told me never to be affected. To never mind them and to just go on with my life. He told me to strive harder next year, to exaggerate in excelling at school. To be on the top, because that will pay off when I get to College.

He told me that he'll do everything to get me into a good college. He would strive too, and be the father I've always wanted to have. Because he loves me that much. And I love him too.

A few minutes after, mom called. She was mad because I was crying and that she told me to stop crying and to knock it off because I have nothing else to do about the matter. Dad was silently furious. My mom was a bit off the hook, and told me I was being maarte and that I was being selfish. I cried real hard. Mom wanted to talk to me, but no, I didn't. I didn't have to hear about another shenanigans she would say. I'm so tired.

My dad got furious. "Yan lang ba sasabihin mo? Tumawag ka lang ba para sabihin yan? Gets na niya, ok? Gets na niya. Oo, Maarte siya." Click. And then I cried while my dad held me.

"Gusto ko ng mamatay." Was all I could say.

"Ano ka ba? wag kang mag-isip ng ganyan. Basta pagbutihin mo pag-aaral mo. I promise you makakabalik ka dito."

And then I found something to hold on to. My father's words.

-- when silence is torn, the night is broken.