For the past 5 years, my sister and I were the only ones who lived here in the Philippines while my parents and my brothers stayed abroad. I had to cope up with a lot of stuff. Peer pressure, sloth, study pressures, sibling rivalry, myself and my parents’ continuous old fashioned way. It wasn’t I didn’t I appreciate what they did for me. I just happened to have a different outlook in life. I know I’m not a bad person and I know I’m not what they say.

Since this year, they finally left both my brothers, things have changed. It’s getting warmer in the house. Like there really is a family living in it. It’s not that we lived so apart, my sister and I, because she had college, I was in high school, age kept us apart, so we never really ate at the same time, called each other for dinner. There were also some times when I had to eat by myself. I spent nights outside because I couldn’t bear to be myself in the room with no one.
So there was a change. When I get home from school, someone would be “surprising” me at the door. It was noisy, we’d eat together. All a family should be doing together.

It was only this April 30, 08 when a lot of things happened. I got into trouble, and my parents got mad and I ended up having to look for a job. So I kept looking online and searched through a lot of job nets.
One night, I was with my brother inside the room. I was searching and I didn’t realize he was looking over my shoulder. Then he read what I was doing.
“Ate,(big sister) you’re looking for a job?” he asked.
At first I couldn’t answer. But eventually, knowing my brother, he’d ask again. So I told him.
“yes, I am looking for a job,”
Dumdumdadum…
“Why?” my ever-curious youngest brother asked.
“Because,” I said, simply, smiling so that he wouldn’t have any next questions.

After that night, I tried desperately to avoid him seeing me searching for a job again.
But soon enough, he was asking about it again.
One night, I had to go for an interview. It was scheduled at around 10pm, so I had to leave late. My brother, as a curious child, noticed I was dressed and he asked where I was going to. So of course, I told him the truth.

Monday, I think it was, he asked about it again.
“Ate, why are you getting a job at this age?” he asked.
“Because,” I replied, as simply as I could.
“Why, Ate, why?” he insisted.
“I’m not young anymore, like you,” I said finally.

Yesterday morning, I was searching again. Then he suddenly started playing with me, throwing me a pillow and smashing it over my face, laughing. I laughed too.
“Hey! I’m not doing anything to you! Why are you doing this?” I said, in a playful manner.
Then he answered,
“Because I don’t want you to get a job,”

It kind of broke my heart. I didn’t fully wanted a job. I just have to. I have to get a job. And it was killing me that my brother was seeing me tire myself out just for that job. He didn’t say it, but I could see it in his eyes. It was sweet but it hurt. Those words, and how he feels right now, are the only things that sometimes makes me regret what I did on April 28, 29. (Aside from all the people I hurt, I don’t really regret what I did. Is that bad?)

I have to get a job. Not because I wanted it bad. But because I’m going to need it. It just sucks that at a young age, my brother is such a sweetheart and truly cares.
Sometime back, I thought of getting an apartment when I get a job, if its too far. But when I think of leaving my brother, I pause for a minute.
Then I guess its true that sometimes, only the children are able to accept who you really are, despite your mistakes and your flaws. I guess thats why I’m hanging on to my brother.

Because deep inside, I feel he’s my only connection to my family right now.

I woke up this morning because of a freaky dream I had. I don’t always dream, and neither do I dream of bad things. This morning’s dream was a bit exceptional. To be honest, it wasn’t the first time I dreamt of these kind of things. I had dreams similar but I don’t really know what made me write about this. I was at this place, I don’t know if school or a different place or a place I’ve been to. I was sitting on a plank above others, I’m not even sure why the hell I was there. But I was with someone, an important person though, I don’t really remember the face. She was on a lower plank doing something, painting I think it was. I was watching the people below me, how they moved, how they went about, how they rambled on with each other.
Suddenly, a mascot came in. He was colored blue and light yellow I think, he looked a bit like a bear. When I first saw the mascot, I already got the chills. I felt I had to be scared and it reminded me of Pointbreak.
It was then he started shooting. I couldn’t look. My heart started pounding. I could hear screams from below. I couldn’t bear to look at that important person with me. I was too scared that if I looked then she might be … well, shot. Then when I looked down, the mascot was looking at me. He had the gun pointed at me.

That’s when I forced myself to wake up. I wasn’t crying or anything. But my heart was beating so fast. What did it mean? Not that every dream had to have a meaning. I don’t know. It’s just really weird. I don’t even know why I had that dream. I felt really scared. And the first thing on my mind was: I didn’t want to die.

I just finished watching this Taiwanese series called Silence. At first, this series only interested me because the lead actor was the hottie from Meteor Garden and Mars, Vic Zhuo. It even took me quite some time to actually have the interest to watch it. I started watching just one night ago. I skipped straight to the final episode. My eyes were puffy and I was sniffing already.

The story was about a girl who was traumatized and became mute. She met a boy who had a broken bone. He talked and befriended her and unknowingly, in the 1 week span, they had developed their 1st love. 13 years later, they meet. The boy was mean, had a girl friend and even had plans to bulldoze the home of the girl’s friends. They didn’t recognize each other then. But when the boy finally came to his senses and realized that the girl was the girl from his past, he was also diagnosed with liver cancer and had only 3 months to live. So of course, they did a little chasing, beating around the bush, the guy tempted to leave the girl because he was afraid, the guy pretending he didn’t love the girl. But thank God, the storyline was straight forward, they got together. The girl didn’t know he was dying but they lived together.
At the end, the guy went to the swimming competition of one of their friends, the girl arrived, and with her love and passion and anxiousness and fear, she called his name. She called his name and she told him she loved him. They were supposed to hug, but he fainted and fell into the pool. She saved him, and then the guy’s friend who is a doctor came and told her of the 13 years he had pined for her. Next day when she awoke, he was wearing a white tux. He asked if she’d mind going with him to a far away place. He took her to the grassland. They sat there and he promised in the next life, he wouldn’t leave her so early. Then slowly, he died in her arms. He died.

I can’t help crying. I think it was one of the most beautiful love stories I have ever watched. Although I was rooting for a miracle that maybe he’d live or something, it was a very enchanting ending. Is enchanting the right word? I can’t even explain it. There’s just something in the story. A hope that sparks, a hope that there really is true love.

As sappy as I am, I never really strongly believed in true love. I sometimes even thought that some marriages only stay together because of responsibilities and obligations they had. But I couldn’t deny that somewhere deep down inside me, I did know true love was possible. I just didn’t know where I’d find it. Or if there was one for me.
I used to wonder why I loved Korean-novelas, Taiwan-novelas, Japanese-novelas etc, so much. I used to always say it was because all soap operas in the Philippines had become too predictable and sometimes came to a point were it became unbelievable corny and the story line just went around and around. I don’t know what the difference really is. Now I think I love watching those Asian-novelas is because they seem to prove true love. Some of their story lines and plots are really beautiful and give a spark of hope. They make life seem easy and yet give a touch of hardships that we really do experience in real life. They give possible situations that may connect with our life. Although some endings are completely stupid and disappointing, most have given a real touch to what life is all about.

Maybe that’s what I liked most about Silence. Unlike other soaps, usually, when they get sick and about to die, they run away, hide and do whatever and take a mound of time, wasting their lives by themselves thinking they’ve lifted a burden on their loved ones, not realizing that them disappearing, possibly dying by themselves and making themselves even more pathetic is what’s really hurting their loved ones. I don’t really know if he ran away. I think he did. Thank God I didn’t watch that part. But I know he didn’t run very long. He accepted it. He didn’t try to fight fate anymore. He died with a smile.

It’s such a beautiful story. It inspired me to write. Deep down inside, it sparked something in me. Maybe there really is such a thing as “true love”…

You are passionate, romantic, and emotional.You put love first in your life, even though you have often been disappointed by it.You expect to be swept of your feet, and you never expect infatuation to die out.Underneath it all, you are scared that you aren’t lovable.Your insecurity has ruined many relationships, as you are unable to see the love that’s really there.You are secretly afraid of being alone. Confronting your insecurities is incredibly painful.

Ouch. That kinda hurts. It’s actually true. Nobody’s ever really seen me like that. I keep saying that I don’t really believe in love, but truly I hope for love. It’s just painful that I keep hoping but then those hopes turn out to be nothing but false. Yes, I am insecure. I know that. It kinda hurts to admit it, of course this is a blog, people will tend to read (no offense). People I know always sees me as someone bitter, doesn’t believe in love, as someone who’s strong enough not to live with love. No one has actually confronted me about being insecure. Then that must mean no one actually knows who I really am. Even both my best friends don’t know how insecure I can get sometimes. It’s kind of hard to explain. I don’t know what to say. Why am I insecure and of what am I insecure of? Hm. Looks, family, intellect, inner personality. Okay, just about everything. Why? Well, if I told the truth, I’d be totally emo and a bit disrespectful to that person. If I didn’t then what in the world is this blog for?

I’m insecure because I listen. I listen to comments that put me down. And I let myself be brought down. I’m insecure because I’m too sensitive sometimes that when people bring me down, I let myself. Then I’d have to learn to stand again. Although I consider myself to be a very strong person, I get affected by the little things that affect me, whether inner or outer beauty. I know it’s something I have to learn to control. I have to learn to love myself and to respect myself more.

It’s funny how that simple quiz from blogthings.com said that I’m secretly afraid of being alone. It’s true. I hate being alone. I hate feeling alone. Although sometimes, I admit, I really feel lonely at times. I don’t know if I’m just really emo or if I just haven’t found anyone who really understands me yet. Or I just don’t want to be understood. Is there such a term? Or is there even such a feeling like that? I don’t know. But I know it’s a nice feeling when you know you’re not the only one misunderstood a lot.

And sometimes, laughing it out hides the insecurities I have inside…