He Once Called Me 'Princess'

There are things that one person would say to you or call you, and you would forever hold on to them until you die.

hersandhistory-deactivated20140 said: Hi po, ate. :) Sa PMA po ba yung April 1? Sa PNPA po kasi yung bf ko eh. Though di ko din sure yung May 1. Pero as far as I know, mga ganung date dun. Hihi :D

ay hehe akala ko kasi pma :>

fullofbrookenthoughts:

They are by far the hardest parts of every single day.

fullofbrookenthoughts:

They are by far the hardest parts of every single day.

(via fullofbrookenthoughts)

MILITARY RELATIONSHIPS: Where meeting halfway is almost always impossible.

You don’t meet halfway in this kind of relationship. You just give in to circumstances. Because when their world dictates something, almost always, no one can do anything about it. It sucks, but you do it out of love. 

Chapter I - 4Cl Mendoza RA a.k.a. “Raph”

Minahal niya talaga si Princess. Mahal pa rin talaga niya si Princess. Inakala niya lang na masasaktan niya ang babaeng ilang taon na niyang pinagmasdan at minahal mula sa malayo kahit pa noong hindi pa siya kadete. Sanay siyang nakangiti ito, sanay siyang lumiliwanag ang paligid dahil dito. Sa piling niya lang niya nakitang lumuha ito nang ganoon. Kailan na nga ba ‘yun, isang taon mahigit na rin ang nakakalipas. Akala niya, napaka-sensitibo nito. Fragile. Akala niya’y mapapatay niya lang ito sa lungkot sa pagpasok niya sa Academy. Kahit pa gaano nito sabihin na kayang kaya niya ang distansya, kahit gaano pa nito sabihing mahal na mahal siya, hindi siya naniwala. Hindi nga ba? O takot lang siyang makaramdam ng ganoon sa una, pagkatapos ay mawawala din agad? Iba na ang buhay niya. Ang inakala niya, hindi to kakayanin ng “Prinsesa” niya. Higit sa lahat, hindi niya na maaalagaan ito.

Hindi niya alam kung bakit parang ang haba-haba ata ng daan mula sa barracks. Parang ilang oras na siyang naglalakad. Oo, inaantok siya. Sukat ba namang 0230H pag-report-in sila ng mga yearling, at mula sa oras na yun, hindi na natapos ang pagpapatawag, compliances, at duty. Pero hindi. Hindi antok iyon. Iba ang pakiramdam. Parang may paparating na hindi niya kakayanin. Jusko, naisip niya. May mangyayari kayang ikaka-discharge ko?

"Magilas Visitors Center." Naisip niya kung kailan ba siya makakapagdala ng bisita diyan. Yung nanay niya kaya na tila fanatic na sa pagiging kadete niya? O kaya yung kapatid niyang gustong sumunod sa yapak niya. O kaya yung pinsan niyang "searching," na nangangarap magkaroon ng boyfriend na kadete. O kaya yung tatay niya. Oh, yung tatay niya—na nung huli niyang makita eh kunwari pang ayaw lumuha, eh pulang-pula naman na ang mga mata. Kailan kaya, naisip niya. Plebo palang naman siya, matagal pa.

Alam niyang hindi dapat siya parang turista na iikot-ikot ang paningin habang naglalakad. Pero hindi, gusto niyang isapuso kung ano nga ba talaga itong lugar na ito. Itong mundo na ipinalit niya sa dating simple, pero masayang mundo. Yung dating mundo, may lovelife pa yun. ‘Takte, hindi niya alam kung ano nga ba ang pumasok sa isip niya at pinasok niya ang lahat nang ito. Kaya eto ngayon, titingin-tingin sa paligid. Nagmumuni-muni, habang nagmumuka pa ring tuod. Ganun dapat eh. Yung plebo—tuod. Tuod na panget.

Sa malayo, nakita niya ang isang pangkaraniwan nang tanawin tuwing Sabado o Linggo. Yung upperclass, may ine-entertain na bisita. Madalas, silang dalawa lang. Madalas, babae. Madalas, maganda, maputi, nakabestida. Madalas, nakakainggit. Nakakainggit naman talaga. Gaano na nga ba katagal mula noong maka-kausap siya ng normal na tao galing sa labas? How much more na matagal na, kung magandang dalaga pa. Siguro ilang metro pa ang layo, parang naaamoy na niya yung pabango nung dalaga. Hindi niya maintindihan kung bulaklak ba o prutas yung amoy. Basta. Muka namang bagay sa pustura niya ang amoy niya. Amoy maganda. Kesa naman sa amoy Axe. Purgang purga na siya sa amoy ng Axe. Amoy plebo.

Nahihiya pa ata si Ate. Nakatungo pa. Para namang hindi siya nakikita ng buong madla ng Pi-Ma. Jackpot talaga tong si Cdt Torres eh. Eh kung kasing gwapo ba naman siya ni Torres. Tiyak, hindi lang ganyang ka-kaaya ayang babae ang mae-entertain niya. Eh wala, amoy pa lang, talo na siya. Ilaban mo ba naman ang Axe sa Hugo Boss. Naisip niya, sana makita niya na ang muka. Nakaka-curious ba. Unti-unting umangat ang ulo ng kasamang dalaga ni Torres. “Finally,” English pa niyang nasabi sa utak niya. Kahit pasimple, mave-verify na niya. Sana nga maganda…. Sana….

Sana hindi na lang niya tinignan. Sana naglakad na lang siya dere-derecho para hindi makita ang itsura nung dalaga. Sana yung pagkain na lang sa PostCom ang inasam niyang makita. Sana hindi na lang siya nagpaka-very brave na mamverify ng bisita ng upperclass niya. Takte, squadleader pa man din niya.

Bakit? Bakit sising-sisi siya? Hindi dahil sa pangit yung dalaga. Hindi dahil sa OA na sa ganda. Pero sa lahat ng taong makikita, bakit siya pa. Oo, you got it. Sino pa nga ba, eh di yung Prinsesa—yung prinsesang unang pumapasok sa isip niya tuwing umaga, at huling pumapasok sa isip niya tuwing gabi o madaling araw bago matulog—yun ay kung nagkakaroon siya nang pagkakataong matulog. Si Princess. Si Princess na araw-araw niyang pinagpapantasyahang kasabay na kumain, kasamang mamasyal sa mall, o kasamang nanonood ng horror movie sa sine. Si Princess. Si Princess ang girlfriend ni Cdt Torres.

Saglit siyang napatigil. Gustong bumulagta. Pero pwede ba kasi yun? Hindi. Hindi pwede. Tinuloy tuloy niya ang paglalakad, ibinaba pa ng kaunti ang dress cap sa attempt na hindi talaga siya mapansin nung dalawa. Sige lang, lakad lang, ika niya sa sarili niya. At iyon, buti naman, parang multo lang siyang nakalampas sa Magilas. Nalampasan niya kung saan nakatayo ang babaeng habambuhay na ata niyang minamahal at pinoprotektahan mula sa malayo. At ngayon, nasa malayo na siyang muli. “Pinrotektahan?” tanong niya sa sarili. Pinrotektahan nga ba niya si Princess sa pakikipaghiwalay niya? Ayaw niyang masaktan dahil lalayo siya para sa pagkakadete niya. Pero hindi. Pero what. Ano iyong nakita niya. Kitang-kita niya ang ligaya at lakas nito. Mas lumigaya, mas gumanda. Halos hindi na nga niya nakilala. Kung dati mala-anghel siya, ngayon, mala-Diyosa na.

Hindi lang iyon ang una at huling bumisita ang Prinsesa, at sa bawat bisita niya, parang pasaya siya nang pasaya. Palakas nang palakas. Hindi siya makapaniwala na sa kadete rin ang bagsak nito. Maligaya ito—maligaya ang babaeng hanggang ngayon ay mahal niya. Sa sarili niya, nagsisisi siya. Ika niya, “Minaliit ko siya.” Eh di sana, maghintay lang siya nang kaunti, iyong taas ng morale ni Torres na iyon, sa kanya sana. Wala siyang magawa. Habang patamis nang patamis ang ngiti ni Princess at ni Torres, paubos nang paubos ang dugo na tumatagas mula sa dibdib niyang pinasakan ng matulis na tubo.#

More like, “Sa Isang Halik Mo, MAYLEM” :)))
Dolphy Quizon and the rest of Sampaguita actors star in a very old movie featuring cadets of the Philippine Military Academy.

It Stings that You Have to be There: Letter You’ll Never Read #5

Dear K,

I was wearing your dog tag today. I was always touching it, as if it was going to be taken away from me by other people. I flaunted it, at the same time protected it. I didn’t know why I had to. I can just say I really miss you.

One moment today was quite depressing. A friend shared with me and another friend how her grandmother doesn’t like her boyfriend for her. Her grandmother asked her why in the world she would have that guy over lots of other guys around. Her grandmother even offered her to match her with a cadet. Well, you know D. That’s her. And you also know D’s grandmother works where you are—in the Academy. You know what was depressing about that? Our friend V, a guy, interrupted. These were his words:

                “Ano, magbo-boypren ka ng kadete tapos pagka-graduate, made-destino sa Mindanao tapos mamamatay lang dun? Huling bisita ko dun may nabasa ako. Graduated 1991 tapos namatay 1993. O ano?”

                What’s sadder than that is that V is a son of a late soldier. He’s actually enjoying the benefits of his father’s death right now—it’s what pays for his college education. Well, I don’t want a free education for my son or daughter in the future. I want a father for my children. I want a husband who I can love until the day he watches me die—old, ugly, and weak. I don’t want you there. I want you here with me.

                But of course, I cannot have what I want. I’ll never have what I want. Yesterday, the day before that, and all the days before that, I wanted you here, or just wanted to talk to you. But did I get what I wanted? I never got what I wanted. All I get from every day I live here are reminders of you.

                I got a free taxi ride this morning. The driver happened to be an old close friend of my father and mother. It was nice, the feeling of knowing friends of my parents. You know what stung? He reminded me of you. How? He lives inside the Academy.

                I got to smile during my Developmental Psychology class today. It was supposed to be really boring but I got to smile. Our professor showed us lots of pictures of babies—we’re discussing babyhood right now—and I love babies, you know that. You know what stung? Not the fact that I can’t have babies right now, but that moment when my professor reminded me of you. How? She saw a classmate come in late and started complaining about our attitudes going to school. What about it? Well, she started comparing university students to Academy students—well, cadets. She told us that when she taught there in the Academy, she didn’t have a hard time. Cadets were always on time and were always prepared.  Cadets always read in advance so as not to give professors headaches. Cadets do this, cadets do that. Cadets do the right things in going to class. Cadets do blah, blah, blah. Tell you what, I know what cadets do. Cadets do what they don’t have any choice but to do. Like not calling their girlfriends because they can’t, and not being with their girlfriends because it’s impossible. That stung. You’re in the Academy.

                I got to watch half of a good movie today for my World Literature class. It’s The Count of Monte Cristo. It’s one of my favorite movies ever, and it felt good watching it, because I remember watching it with my mother while she talks about all the deeper meanings contained in the movie. It was a pleasant feeling, but you know what stung? I love watching movies with you. I know, it’s something we do once in a thousand chances. I can only count with my fingers the times we got to watch a movie together, but I really love doing it with you. It stung, because the mere fact that what I do always include you was sad. We can’t watch a movie together. You always had the shortest time available, and you’re there in the Academy.

                I got to talk to a classmate for the first time today in my Personality Psychology class. I always wanted to talk to her, because she was really pretty. I found out she was three years older than me, making her, what, 25? She has really white and smooth skin, though she’s popular to get really low grades. They say she isn’t smart, well I got hints that people are right, but I really enjoyed talking to her. You know what stung? She asked me why I was here in Baguio, when people say I was studying in UP Diliman before. I told her it’s because I love someone who is here. She asked me if I was living together with that someone I love, and I answered no. He’s locked up somewhere. Eventually she found out that that someone was you—someone who’s in the Academy. Well, she knew lots of thing about you and your kind, and that stung. Yes I am here in Baguio, but you’re there in the Academy.

                Need I say more? Every moment it stings. Those who haven’t fallen in love this hard may not believe this kind of shit really happens, but it does. I breathe in; I wish you were here. I breathe out; I wish I were looking at you. I blink; I wish I were holding your hand. I can’t seem to take you off of every little thing that I do, and you know what stings more? It’s you—inside the Academy.

                I miss you. You may never know nor feel it, but I always have this soft heart for you. I cannot always show it, as I did this past week (or weeks), and I cannot make you read this, but I love you always. At every moment, at every blink I do. Even when I make you feel stung at times, because I feel all the stings—because you’re there, in the Academy.

Always reminded of you,

G.

and it’s hard
sukhibear:


Rose Leslie, Emilia Clarke, Alfie Allen, Richard Madden and Michelle Fairley at Comic-Con 2012 

Ygritte. Daenerys Targaryen. Theon Greyjoy. Catelyn Stark. Robb Stark.

sukhibear:

Rose Leslie, Emilia Clarke, Alfie Allen, Richard Madden and Michelle Fairley at Comic-Con 2012 

Ygritte. Daenerys Targaryen. Theon Greyjoy. Catelyn Stark. Robb Stark.

(Source: rrudysteiner)

Kaydet Girl 101: MUST READ: Five Kaydet Girl Basic Rules

kaydetgirl101:

We’re all sisters, and we love each other so so much because we know each other and shared considerable amounts of time together. But it’s not just that. We’re sisters not just by acquaintance, we are sisters because we share the same emotions, same tears, same frantic madnesses. We feel like…

Sana Malaman Mo (or Dahil Hindi Ko Nasabi, Eto Na, from my facebook account May 27, 2012)

"Bawal kami mag-cellphone dun ah.”

Alam ko lagi tayong hindi magkasama, pero may mga araw talagang mas napapalayo ka. Katulad ngayon. Saan ka nga ba uli pupunta? At gaano na uli katagal? Saglit lang kung iisipin nang iba. Pero sa katulad ko, ang mga araw na katulad ng mga susunod ang pinakamahahaba.

Alam ko na ang pakiramdam na ito ay dapat ko nang makasanayan na tulad ng pag-hinga. Alam ko na habang ginagawa mo pa ang mga kailangan mong gawin, hindi ka sa akin. Magtapos ka diyan sa Academy, ganun pa rin. Mabubuhay ako nang wala ka, pero dahil lamang kailangan ko. Sa tuwing magkakasakit ako, alam kong wala ka para alagaan ako. Sa birthdaymonthsary, anniversary, at iba pang mahahalagang araw, alam kong wala ka sa tabi ko. Ang pointless siguro para sa ibang tao. Pero hindi naman nila alam kung paano ang mahalin ang katulad mo. Hindi nila maiintindihan kung bakit patuloy ko pa ring ginagawa ang hintayin ka tulad ng ginagawa ko ngayon.

Sorry, canceled ang priv eh.”

Hindi ko maipapangako sayo na hindi ako magagalit sa tuwing malalaman kong hindi matutuloy ang pagkikita natin. Hindi ko rin maipapangako na hindi ko gugustuhing awayin ka sa kahit anong paraan dahil dito. Hindi ko maipapangakong iwasan ang manisi, ang magtaka, o maghinala. Hindi ko maipapangakong hindi ako iiyak sa tuwing mami-miss kita. Hindi ko maipapangakong matitiis ko ang paglayo mo. Hindi ko rin magagawang siguruhin ka na kaya kong sumaya nang wala ka.

Maaaring hindi mo maintindihan kapag minsan, nagwawala na ako. Wala ka naman kasi para makitang tumakas ako para bumyahe nang pagkalayo-layo at pagkatagal-tagal para sayo. Wala ka din naman para makita kung ano ang reaksyon ko sa pagsabi mo nang posibilidad na magkita tayo. Wala ka din para makitang mag-prepare ako ng pagkain dahil alam kong pag-labas mo, parang nakakawala din sa preso ang sikmura mo. Wala ka din sa tuwing nasa supermarket ako, na imbes na mga kailangan ko sa bahay ang isipin ko, magugulat na lang ako na halos lahat ng nabili ko ay pawang mga paborito mo.

Kung pwede lang mag-welga, nagawa ko na. Kung pwede lang sugurin ang mga opisyal niyo sa opisina, nagawa ko na. At alam ko sa thought na ito, hindi ako nag-iisa.

"Hindi ko hawak ang oras ko."

Alam mo ba kung gaano kasakit kapag sinasabi mo sa akin ito? Gusto kong sagutin ng “Oo, alam ko! Alam ko!” pero minsan napapatulala nalang ako. Masakit magmukang hindi kita naiintindihan. Naiintindihan naman kita, kung pwede lang kunin na ang lahat ng pang-iintindi sa buong mundo at kung kulang pa, holdapin ko pa ang ibang tao para madagdagan ito, ginawa ko na. Sa lahat ng tao sa buhay ko, ikaw ang pinaka-pinaglalaanan ko ng pag-iintindi ko.

Kaya nga tayo umabot sa ganito dahil gets ko, diba? Kaya nga ako andito, dahil gets ko diba? Hindi naman siguro bawal malungkot. Hindi naman siguro masamang ma-disappoint. Matakot ka na lang kung kapag sinabihan mo ako nang ganoon, tumawa na lang ako. Kapag ganoon, baliw na ako o ayoko na sa relasyon natin na ito.

Ang laming ng klima dito sa Baguio, at mas lalong lumalamig sa tuwing naipapamuka ko sa sarili kong gabi-gabi, wala ka sa piling ko. Pero alam mo, mahal na mahal ko na ang lugar na ito. Dahil andito ako para kahit papano’y mapalapit sayo.

"I want you to live your life."

Ito na ako eh. Mula nang mahalin natin ang isa’t isa, ginawa ko na ring mabuhay ayon sa buhay mo. Sabi mo, kailangan mo ng babaeng kayang mamuhay nang mag-isa at kayang mabuhay nang wala ka. Yun nga ba ang kailangan mo? Sa totoo lang, hindi ko naman kayang mamuhay nang hiwalay sa kung ano ka. Kung gagawin ko yun, paano ka na kung biglaang sasabihin mong makakapag-priv ka? O kaya kapag biglaang makahanap ka ng pagkakataon na makausap ako sa telepono? Para akong Plebo kung ma-confuse sayo. Minsan, mapapatanong na lang ako na, “Ano ba talaga?”

"I’m sorry."

I know these words would just be as normal as your “Hi” or “Hello.” Alam ko, nasasaktan ka pa rin sa tuwing hindi ko matanggap ang sorry mo. It’s just that, minsan, masakit talaga eh. Pero gusto kong malaman mo, kahit ilang beses mo pang ulit-ulitin ang sorry mo, kahit anong sakit pa ang maramdaman ko, wala akong ibang gustong gawin kundi tanggapin ito. Kasi nga, ikaw ang mahal ko.

"I miss you."

Ako din. Kahit anong gawin ko, ikaw ang naiisip ko. Kapag nagsusulat ako, maaalala ko kung gano kagulo ang sulat mo na parang kinalaykay na ng sampung manok—tapos mami-miss kita. Kapag kumakain ako, maalala ko kung gano ka nagugutom pag nasa labas ka—tapos mami-miss kita. Kapag naghuhugas ako ng pinggan, maaalala ko kung gano mo ako nilolokong hindi ako marunong sa gawaing bahay—tapos mami-miss kita. Kapag manunuod ako ng TV, parang lahat na ng lalaking maipapalabas, ikinikumpara ko sayo at gagawa at gagawa ako ng paraan para ang konklusyon ko eh ikaw pa rin ang the best—tapos mamimiss kita.

Hindi ko alam kung sa tuwing pupunta ka sa armory at kukunin ang rifle o “asawa” mo eh ninanais mong yung future na asawa mo talaga ang sinusundo mo. Hindi ko alam kung sa tuwing nasa Mess Hall ka, iniisip mong sana nagdi-dinner date tayo. Hindi ko alam kung sa tuwing nagro-road run ka, iniisip mong ako ang kasabay mo at hawak-hawak mo ang kamay mo. Hindi ko alam kung sa tuwing dozing ka na sa klase, ang iniisip mo na lang eh sana magamit mo na ang cellphone mo. Hindi ko rin alam kung sa tuwing pa-plantsahin mo ang dress greymo, ang maaalala mo ay ang priv na kasama ako. Hindi ko alam, pero kung ako siguro ang andyan, ganun ako.

Hindi ko to sinulat para manumbat sayo. Hindi ko rin to sinulat dahil galit ako sayo. Hindi ko to sinulat dahil nagpapaalam na ako. At lalong hindi ko to sinulat kasi ayoko na ng ganito. Sinulat ko to kasi katulad mo, “I miss you.”  At tulad mo, minsan nalo-low morale talaga ako. Hindi mo siguro maiintindihan bakit ako nag-i-emo nang ganito. All I can say is, kung kapwa Kaydet Girl din ang tatanungin mo, masasabi nilang naiintindihan nila ang kabaliwan na tulad nito.

Sana malaman mo na kahit anong drama ko at kahit anong lala ng pagmamaldita ko, hindi pa rin ako mawawala. Kahit noong gusto mo na akong ipagtabuyan, hindi pa rin ako nawala. Sana malaman mo na kahit gaano kasakit, naghihintay pa rin ako. At kahit anong argument o tampuhan man ang mangyari satin, ako pa rin ang bestfriend mo.

"I love you, Babe.

At sana, at this very moment, marinig mo rin ang "I love you, too"  ko. Pero hindi eh. Siguro ngayon, nagfi-fix ka ng gamit, o nagbibihis, o kung ano mang preparasyon para sa pag-alis niyo. Sana kilabutan ka, o masamid ka, o makagat mo ang dila mo (teka, ang sama naman ata ng hiling ko) para maramdaman mong may sobrang nakaka-miss at nag-iisip sayo. At sana, habang nasa bus ka mamaya, mapanaginipan mo ako at ang yakap ko.

Kahit naman anong haba nitong sulat ko, isa pa din ang ending nito. Mag-iingat ka ha. At sana pagbalik mo, makita kita.

"Mahal na mahal kita." 


“Hintayin ko muna kung saan ka ma-destino pagka-graduate mo diyan. Doon na lang siguro ako kukuha ng Law, or by then ko na lang ide-deliberate kung saan ako kukuha ng Law.”

—   

— G to K, one night when he had the chance to talk on the phone.

Properly si Cadet eh. :)

Thinking about pursuing Law after getting my Psychology degree. I won’t be a lawyer, though. I just felt the passion for knowing it.

I really really love his smile. It may not be the most beautiful, but it is for me. It’s the one thing telling me he’s happy—with me, and for me. :”)

We ran away and drove off to Tagaytay for the night last June break. It was a short form of rebellion, but we enjoyed it. I miss him, and I’m glad that we’re still the bestfriends trying to make up for what has been lost—including the trust.

Your Mase-Mase is My Torture, Your Pain is My Pain : Letter You’ll Never Read #4

My dearest K,

Right now you could be doing a whole lot of jumping jacks, squat thrusts, and push ups. Right now you could be shedding every sweat with remorse. Right now you might be cursing your mistah for doing that to all of you. Right now, you might be rotting of the thought that instead of being there consuming all your strength, you should have been with me right now, cuddling the few hours away. Right now you might be missing me and right now you might be in pain, but this I tell you: your pain is my pain.

As you bend each limb, a crack forms on the surface of my heart. As your joints do their thing, my brain stretches itself out to tell myself not to panic. As your skeletal muscles stretch their every inch, my cardiac muscles are twisted and tortured. As you should know, your pain is my pain.

This should have been the day that would make my week. It’s a Saturday, and although it is still a school day for me, I anticipated a better day. Two days ago I saw you in the Academy, wearing your newly-awarded Dean’s List badge. I’m so proud of you that I even took a picture of it, and told you that I did so ‘coz I took a picture of your Commandant’s List badge, too. You were smiling at me and I went crazy. What even made me crazy was when you told me the possibility of a priv that would be, two days later. Well, that “two days later” should have been now. And up until 1300H I was hoping for your text which would say, “San ka babe? Palabas na ako.”

But no. The first text was not much of a good omen.

Mahal? Tawag ikaw?

Mahal. It was your term of endearment when things are very serious. My heart raced. What could be the matter? I thought.

Then the next text came as if the first one didn’t wait for a reply. And that second text was the one which devastated me.

Ay. Wag na muna ikaw tawag Mahal… May maltreatment case ang yearling. Mase mase kami start na ngayon. Wtf. Hanggang gabi. Hmmm. Imy Babe.”

The mere stating of what you were going to do next broke me into half. You were going to be in pain again. You’ll go tired, and might even have a really bad mood soon after. I pray it wouldn’t be so, but you could rant out everything to me and pour it all onto me. Yeah, I wouldn’t mind because I would definitely understand, but the pain of hearing you broken and disappointed pains me. Your pain is my pain, K. As much as I want to ease all of your difficulties, I cannot.

Right now I’m thinking of ways to boost your morale when we could get to talk later in the evening, or maybe tomorrow. I wonder if I could see you tomorrow, bring you your favorite boodles to take your thought away from what’s happening at this moment. It just sucks to feel so helpless. I know it’s not my job to be your Wonderwoman who would save you from everything, but as the person who probably loves you the most, I just wish I were your superhero.

I know it’s not right thinking of you like you’re a helpless and weak baby being punished by the devil, but if I were the one to decide on everything, I would like to take care of you every second. Not a single fly would come into your way. At this moment I imagine you squirming of tiredness. I broke into fourths. A while ago it was just half, now it’s fourths. Because your pain is my pain, K.

I imagine myself hunting down that yearling who did it, that mistah of yours who didn’t even stop and think about the possible repercussions it would bring him and the whole class. I would want to scream to him (or her), “What have you been thinking? Do you know that more than a hundred KGs and mothers would be in pain right now if they knew about this? The Academy bared you off your previous identity and some of your rights, but not your logic, stupid!” But no, ‘coz I would want to spare him (or her) my wrath and my frustrations. And even he (or she) would not read this. Even you would not read this.

How many repetitions have you done already? Fifty, a hundred? How is your knee? Oh, my mind is so messed up. I can’t even stay just calm. I’m worried, K. I wouldn’t want you to do mase-mase all day and all night. I know no one can do anything about it already, so I just hope it ends already.

K, you are as prone to committing maltreatment as that mistah of yours, that’s why I always remind you to hold it—to just let your plebe be. Guide your buddy, but do not ever harm him, nor threaten him. It’s not just me who would rot—it’s hundreds of KGs all over the country—some even overseas.

I hope you ate well today. I hope you took those vitamins I gave you. I hope you have enough energy for this. I know it’s rotting but I wish you’d still look at things positively, like the way you always do. It’s what differentiates us in one way—me, always the worry-er and you, always the one looking at the bright side. Maybe you’ll think of right now as your work out, an opportunity to build your body. Maybe you’ll just think of jokes, laugh secretly at those who facilitate your punishments. And I’m sure about this—you’ll think ahead and remind yourself and other people around you about this lesson. For me the lesson here is not “Don’t maltreat,” it’s “Control yourself.”

I believe in you, K. I know in the future, you wouldn’t be the cause of things such as this. But I still worry, ‘coz your pain is my pain. I know that again, this is a letter you’ll never read. But I’ll tell all these to you anyway. I miss you more at times like this.

Be safe and be healthy.

I love you from the bottom of the Dopamine producers of my basal ganglia, I love you from the bottom of my hypothalamus, and I love you from the bottom of that hypothetical heart they always say. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Wishing you well (after your mase-mase),

G.