Queen Biyachessa

It was an unplanned plan. We were supposed to go to Cebu with my family and due to some schedule reasons, I ended up alone. I was excited at first and despite the rain and what seemed to be a storm I felt good about travelling alone. I arrived at the Cebu airport and asked someone to take me to some motels and hotels to stay at. I was eating and they were waiting for me. Finally when I was ready to go we took off and I was lucky enough to meet someone else who was travelling alone. We were at the balcony of one of the hotels the tricycle drivers had suggested. We were discussing it and I was suddenly feeling really good and excited about solo travelling – again. Suddenly, I saw behind the girl I was with some waves. I was wondering at first why I was seeing it. And it hit me at the point where I realized I was in danger. I was watching my dream like I was the third party, like a movie. We were there, alone, holding onto the balcony when 2 huge waves, towering just a few meters above us hit through us – me. It almost felt like nothing and I thought it was because I could swim. The next one felt like a breeze as well and I didn’t have to hold my breath. The girl I was with wasn’t having the same ease. She was turned not to the balcony’s view but to the hotel and I wondered what she was looking at. I turned around to the view I hadn’t realized was there. Right after we were hit by 2 what seemed now as two small waves, behind us was a bigger wave, not sure where it came from but it was towering above the smaller waves awhile ago and it was going to ram with the smaller one. I waited for the wave to hit me, patiently and prepared for doom. I didn’t want to die and all I could think of was how lucky I was that my family wouldn’t have to experience this and how awful it would’ve been if my family was here and my two brothers wouldn’t have survived the first two tidal waves. I watched myself from the back this time as the higher wave hit through me. It seemed endless, unlike the two earlier waves. I was breathing normally and my eyes were closed. I don’t remember any force, any force from the waves. I opened my eyes once I couldn’t feel the water anymore, only to see another even bigger wave coming up. I braced myself, heart pounding and closed my eyes – praying not for my death but for the safety of my family. Being inside the water felt so long. I waited and I waited, holding my breath, afraid to let go, afraid to not hold my breath and die. When I couldn’t hold any longer, I woke up.

I don’t know what the dream means or if it does mean anything. But with all the earthquakes, tsunami warnings and all that, I hope it doesn’t mean anything bad.

How can you hate and love a guy so much at the same time? I have no idea. But I certainly can.

“Would you be my girlfriend?”

3 years ago, on April 17, 2007 2:30am in the morning, he and I became an item.
So here, in the Philippines being an item is kind of big – you’re either together or not and if you’re together then, it’s a big deal, there’s monthsaries and anniversaries and all that romantic crap.
So in 2007, I was majorly in love with him. We began as friends actually around 2005, I think, until our 7 hour talks on the phone all night and comforting each other through rough times with my then-boyfriend and his then-girlfriend, turned us into something more. We never really admitted it then that we were falling for each other but it was like we already knew. So I felt a connection with him, like I never did with any other guy. We felt so comfortable with each other it was like I could talk to him about anything and everything. He became my best friend and my crying shoulder for my then-boyfriend.
After we started openly telling everyone around us that we had feelings for each other (but we never told each other directly), I wanted us to work out. I wanted to be with him, because he made me want to be a better person, made me happy and content. You know, the kind of fairy tales only children believe.
With him, I never questioned what love was about. You should read most of my poems. He inspired them! I write better when I’m with him. I believed if we had a chance to grow, we’d last. That was how big my faith was on us. I could still remember everything that happened between us – our first kiss, exact date – February 19, 2007 – the only special kiss I can recall.The kiss that I thought would bind us for a lifetime.

In the end, I’m not sure what hurt most, my disappointment or my broken heart.
Some time after we became an item, I wanted to believe we were okay. I wanted so bad to believe we were okay. That we were going to last long.

And then… we lost contact. Just like that. As simple as that. He no longer texted, called, visited. I was heart broken for months. Years to be exact. I turned down every guy who asked me out because I believed he’d come back to me. I believed he’d come back. I really did. Tell me I’m an idiot and I’d tell you I’m stupid.
I cried so much for him, hoped he’d come back. Everything I did to forget him and I never completely got over him.

So imagine my surprise, 3 years later, barely moved on, he returns, calling and texting me again (stupid me for falling so quick and giving him my number).
On January 27, 2010, almost midnight, I choked when he asked me the same question that had me missing the fun in about half of my teen life.

“Would you be my girlfriend?”

I didn’t know whether I should cry with happiness – because the one thing that I had pined for for so long is finally happening – or with anger – for even thinking that he’d can put me through the same thing he had done 3 years ago.

Confused, angry and disappointed in myself, I just wanted him to go – to leave me alone so that I can move on entirely, because I know deep down inside, I deserve so much more. I just wanted it to be done. Suddenly, I regret having given him my numbers at all – or even meeting him.

I blamed myself for putting me through all this. I blame myself for even hoping. I blame myself for not moving on and falling for someone like him.

I hate him so much for making me cry. I hate him for being so weak to stand up for his feelings. I hate him for being a coward. I hate him for being so insensitive.

I hate him so much, to his gut because he is him.

And beneath it all, I hate him so much because despite everything he’s done, every pain he’s given me, I’m still in love with him – or maybe with whoever he used to be – deeply in love with the best friend who would inspire me to write and believed in me when I couldn’t. The best friend who would take care of me when I was sick and watch movies with me over the telephone. The best friend who would text and call me everyday just to see or hear from me. The best friend who wouldn’t dare lie to me.

Before he asked me again, he told me he didn’t have girlfriend. He told me he never had one after me. Little did I know, just 2 days after, was his monthsary with his current girlfriend.

I don’t know who he is anymore. I don’t know where the guy I was majorly in love with anymore. I don’t know how he could stand to hurt me again after practically ripping my heart into pieces the day we lost contact. I don’t know how he could even stand to look at me as if nothing ever happened. I don’t know how he could’ve forgotten everything that happened between us – how little respect he now had for me that made him lie to me.

I think I can move on now. I can’t let myself drown in someone who doesn’t deserve me. I can’t hold on to something that was maybe never even there. I can’t hope anymore – I don’t want to hope anymore.
Although I’m left wondering what could’ve happened and how he really felt for me, I’m content at the realization that the truth about love is that there is no fairy tale to it. However cliche it may sound, love hurts. It’s a sacrifice you have to take, a dive into a cliff. Love isn’t painless and wonderful like all the Barbie movies. There is hardships through it and before you find that someone who’ll love you forever, you must learn to love yourself. Learn to protect yourself from those who’ll harm you and rip you to pieces. Learn to put yourself as a priority – because loving yourself and learning to take care of yourself is the only way to truly find love.

I may have been in love with him, maybe not.

One thing’s for sure – he’ll always be a major part of me and I can’t change that no matter what. I’ll still love him, and I’ll only stop hating him the day I fall out of love with him.The sad thing is, if I keep pining and hoping, by that time that I fall out of love, I’ll have ruined all of me. And I can’t let that happen anymore. When that day comes, the day I can let go and forgive him, I don’t know when, maybe I can find true love.

“I’ll probably stop hating you until the day I stop being in love with you. By then, I’ll have ruined all of me.”

-041707-

My parents left today. They’re going back to Papua New Guinea for their work.

They’ve done this many times before but I never can seem to get used to it. Years back, when they first brought us here to the Philippines and then they had to leave us here, we – my sister and I who were then 12 and 15 I think – would cry so much before they left. I’d try to swallow hard to prevent the tears from coming every time I saw my mother packing, I’d even leave quickly to go to school so I didn’t have to see her put stuff in her luggage; and yet, I would still find myself sobbing – before they leave and even more after they’ve gone inside the airport. They’ve done this so many times in the 7 years I’ve been here in the Philippines, and I still haven’t gotten used to it. Even if I’m already 19 and all, I still feel so lonely every time they leave. Is that the after effects of having grown in an empty house? I’m more mature now, I’m sure, but even if this is like, their 3rd time to leave in a year and knowing they’d be back in March (my brother’s graduation), I still feel like the first time they had to leave us here. It still doesn’t feel regular or like I’ve done it before. I try to tell myself that I wouldn’t cry that they’d be back in March and 2 months shouldn’t be that hard, but I just can’t help the fact that even in that 2 months, I’ll still be missing them. I already do and they haven’t even been away for more than 30 minutes. It’s so hard having to have parents away from you. The effects seem forever and I don’t actually know how to fix me – or it.

Being away from your parents makes you miss a lot of stuff, their guidance, their love, their help in problems; when your parents aren’t there, you won’t have stuff like that. You can grow up with a lot of problems – in commitment, loyalty, family, priorities and all that, because they’re not there for you. I don’t blame my parents, it is after all, for our own good that they have to go.

But to those who hate their parents, to those who wish their parents are gone, to those who disrespect and fool their parents; don’t take them for granted. Our parents are the people responsible for us and however disfunctional they may prove to be, you need them and they need you. Stop thinking that your parents are against you, there’s more to them than you realize; they’re human too and there’s more to their love than you realize.

So love them like there’s no tomorrow. Love them because they gave you life. Love them, because they care enough to do something for you. Love them, because they shout and scream at you every time you come home late or drunk. Love them, because in your worst times, they’re the only hands you can hold. Love them, not because they give you allowance and money, but because they live life for you.

Imagine living a life without someone to fight with over boys. Imagine a life without a father to hug on Father’s Day or a mother on Mother’s Day. Imagine a life without parents. It’s not easy and no matter how strong or matured you are, you owe your parents big time and unfortunately, not even billions of money can pay off the efforts of your years of growing up.

To my Mother and Father, I love you both so much. Have a safe trip to Papua New Guinea and call me. ^^

Okay, so maybe I haven’t written in a long time – alright – a very long time. You can’t blame me though. Blame my OJT and work. Bad OJT, bad work – not giving me enough time to write!

Anyway, I have decided that right after my OJT is over, I must start writing again in my website – I feel it’s getting ribbed my flies already.

That’s probably by next week, or at least after Midterms. I have so much to tell you!

I’m also going to be starting a new category here – Travel. I’ve been to some really good places this past few days and it seems like a waste if I don’t write it down for everyone else to experience right?

Anyway, I haven’t had the hang of travel blogging yet but I do hope to learn from some of the experts. I’m such a young blogger that I have so much more to learn.

By the way. Did I tell you Paramore is going to be in Manila in MARCH?? How crazy is THAT?

I am dying to go. I swear, whoever takes me to Paramore’s concert then, I will truly love and even marry and be their slave forever.

It’s been such a long time since I wrote. I kinda miss it. I hate not being able to take care of my website, I feel like I abandon it or something – which I don’t intend to do.

I still have some loyal readers though, thanks guys.

I really hope to get more good news to you guys in the next few days. I only have less than 50 hours to go in my OJT so I am taking it slower now.

I promise. You’ll be seeing more of me now.

Now, I’m not a nun. Nor do I admit to some kind of Clean Teen bull. But something’s been bothering me lately. Okay, so not lately, but for quite some time now. It’s quite a topic I’ve never really touched about with other people but I’m quite sure many wonder about it as well.

What is pre-marital sex and what’s the difference between it and sex after marriage? Why is it so important to wait? But why wait?

I grew up in a society where sex before marriage is kind of like mortal sin. I’m Catholic, my parents stated how hard it was to be pregnant and all the consequences of pre-marital sex. I had Catholic teachers, those who emphasized that sex should be after marriage and I grew up in a way where I learned that sex wasn’t important.

Unfortunately, the rest of the world didn’t think so.

I came across a friend some months ago. He was such a unique person, he was so strong in personality and yet he had gone through many difficult things. He was different. He viewed life in such a different way – in such an open mind that he inspired me; he changed me and my views and affected me in some ways. His name is Esteban*. My friend, Esteban liked sex. He didn’t believe in sex after marriage and when I asked him why, he delivered a simple but convincing answer.

“What’s the difference? Would God not honor a love out of marriage? Would marriage – now only a symbol – be the only way to express love? Wouldn’t it be the same hypocritical answer that’s even truer than divorce after telling God they’d be together forever?”

I started to think. Of course, after growing up in a world that was so protected, so narrow-minded, I couldn’t disagree entirely.

I don’t know how to judge God really, but I was sure he wasn’t as narrow-minded as I was. I didn’t think he’d disregard a love that could be true out of marriage. And Esteban was right. Those who got divorced after getting married are even more hypocrites than these unmarried lovers are. After professing your eternal love in front of God, you get divorced after a month? And nope, I don’t think there’s annulment in Heaven.

So why should you wait after marriage? And why shouldn’t you?

I don’t exactly know where this blog post is heading to. I guess that depends.

In my opinion about it right now, is that maybe the question being asked is wrong. Maybe the question should be:

“Are you ready for sex? Why?”

That’s a whole new question I know. I think that’s the right question now, because it depends on whomever I’m asking – whomever this question pertains to.

It’s not really about marriage anymore, is it? It’s about commitment. You know there’s commitment and consequence that follows after pre-marital sex which leads every person to think that they must wait after marriage – when their husbands won’t leave and their husbands can handle the consequences that follow.

Maybe those who say they want to wait for marriage are just using marriage as an excuse to say they aren’t ready for sex – physically, mentally, emotionally – and sometimes, they’re right.

I mean, come on. What does some pre-marital sex end up in? Abortion, adoption, dead babies, missing parents, dead teenagers, raped teenagers, teen mothers, teen fathers, teenagers who lose their dreams because they now have a family to structure themselves on.

How do you know you’re ready for sex then? Why are you ready for sex?

Are you in love? Do you even know what love is? Or does love and commitment mean 2 very different things now?

Do you even know what you’re getting yourself into? Do you know what sex really means? Do you know the consequences brought my sexual encounters? Or do I have to mention the hundreds of problems caused by it?

Are you ready for the tears you suffer when he or she leaves you?  (Okay, so this is more for the girls.)

Are you ready to suffer alone when you find out you’re pregnant?

It’s such a hard decision to make, pre-marital sex and to some, maybe it should be more of a cautionary to question your reasons before having sex.

So let’s go back to our first question:

What is pre-marital sex and what’s the difference between it and sex after marriage? Why is it so important to wait? But why wait?

I guess the difference between pre-marital sex and sex after marriage is simple: commitment.

While those that have pre-marital sex aren’t committed, they can undergo many problems – relationship, emotional, mental and physical; the married people can undergo these problems together.

And although there’s still the touchy part of divorce after marriage, at least when you’re married, you’ve given yourself to that one person you truly tried to have everything with. (Seriously, read I Kissed Dating Goodbye by Joshua Harris)

And it’s important to wait not for marriage but for yourself. For yourself to be ready, to know the consequences, to be matured enough to want it, to know what sex comes with and to appreciate sex in a respectful way.

I may sound quite convincing myself here, once you read it once or twice, but I myself is confused.

There’s always this fear in you before you give yourself up especially at your first time. This fear that when you wake up, would you still be the same? Would he or she still love you the same way? Would he or she still be there?

Getting over that fear the first time is the hardest. It’s some kind of barrier that you’ve jumped, especially to all girls out there; like an obstacle that you’ve finally gone through. Because once you go through, there’s no turning back. You can’t bring yourself back, nor can you virginize yourself again. (Seriously, what are you? Dean Winchester, Supernatural Season 4?)

Once you go through that barrier, there’s a lot on the plate: some good, some bad. Some advantageous, some not. There will be consequences and you’d have to move on through it all. If you’re not married, you’d have to go through this yourself, emotionally, mentally, physically – even if you’ve got a lover.

After the first, there’s a lot of possibilities.

The real question is:

Are you ready for what’s out there?

Then I guess the choice on whether or not to give it at a certain age depends entirely on the person. Love and commitment shouldn’t just be the basis. Nowadays, career and self-respect has to be taken into mind before plunging into the risky but natural world of sex.

*Esteban is changed for privacy purposes.