To you whom I’ve learned the most from,

“Instead of creating a palette full of vibrant hues, we coughed up a horrid combination of grays, almost always leading up to a gap-less, torn and black slate.”

We used to be magical.

I used to believe that we could change the world with our silly tandem, but since that illusion is long gone, I have put in all my efforts to push you to the very back of my head — but to no avail. I remembered you when I read this letter and thought to myself, ‘Who knew that people I cared for went through the same thing?’

It was after that gloomy morning, after reading Pia’s post and after finishing the last bit of my Red Velvet Cupcake that I began to realize that I didn’t want to forget you; simply because I knew that it was an impossible thing to do.

How can I forget you, really? It makes me wonder how you did, because I envy you for being able to push back eons of years worth of emotions and memories I know we could never recreate. What we had was something other people didn’t, because I know that what we had was as real as life could get.

We never had a perfect relationship to begin with. We would always argue about the small stuff, sweating out every ounce of comeback we could just so we won’t lose the immature bouts. Granted that we both were hormonal young adults back then could account for the unnecessary teenage rage, but we were generally just the vocal pair — never wanting the other to step on another’s ego. Pride is what they call it, normal day is what we would.

Apart from these instances I’d rather not go back to, we did make up for our constant clamoring. I know this very well you see, because I have a drawer filled with almost 500 letters to prove it. Writing letters was what we used to do, and so I guess part of my moving on is to write you one last time even though I’m almost certain that you’re never going to be able to read this anyway.

I drive myself around a lot more lately because Dad lets me take the car out more often. I take Joey (yes, you’re still not allowed to tease me about how we name our cars) to school, to do errands and to go places — these were the things we used to do together because I’d rather go through long commutes with you than take the ride I worked so hard to get a license on. However, the worst, but inconveniently the most frequent, area I have ever drove in is where our memories were built. The scenery is just too familiar and the routes have all been the same. Everything stayed put, basically, and its just the memory of us that’s faded into the horizon.

We painted our future whilst walking down Tirona after a long day in school. Thinking that high school was the biggest obstacle we would ever face was obviously a huge joke, but our efforts in making sense of our lives was a genuine thirst for a future together. You would kick a rock until we reached the end of the street and you would always tell me that unlike that piece of molten gravel, we would never end. You will never stop kicking and I, in turn, would never cease going with the flow.

I will always love you, Kara. Things like this will never change.

I figured it all out when we spent out last anniversary together. At 18, I was set to working hard in establishing a future with you. I was young; I was a dreamer. I was so in love with you and everything that came with loving you. I knew that it wouldn’t be a bed of roses and I prepared myself for that. I was prepared for whatever life threw at us because I knew that if I loved someone, I would accept everything and anything that he might be. I did. I accepted your every inch and loved it for all its worth.

We ended because life happened. Distance destroyed who we once were and the true colors we each possessed mixed terribly with one another. Instead of creating a palette full of vibrant hues, we coughed up a horrid combination of grays, almost always leading up to a gap-less, torn and black slate. Our dreams flew above our heads and I tried so hard to keep up. There’s really no one to blame but we could have caught that last string of hope if you ran along with me.

I decided to cut the ropes because I couldn’t hold up two masts at the same time. In as much as I longed to get through to your heart and fill it with my love, I was running out of it as well. For a time I’ve exhausted churning up enough for two, but I eventually crashed and felt like an empty bottle left to quench the drought of none. Useless, abandoned and betrayed — these three things were a little too much to handle for my fragile soul. They say that you’ve got to hold on until it hurts, but quite frankly, our love didn’t hurt anymore: it was no longer there and I knew that I had to let go.

Seven months after and seven days before I leave this place, I sit here trying to make sense of what I feel. The wounds are close to healing but the pain still lingers inside. It gets tougher as I get better, actually, because sometimes I just cannot imagine how something so painful could heal. I feel decapitated and left in a point of no return, that by which I attribute to what I had to go through alone.

You would have been proud of where I stand now. I’ve established stronger relationships with the people around me and a number of my then friends, I now consider as family. The old ones stuck out for me, too, as usual, but with a larger dose of helping me to stand up on my own rather than nursing every hurt I complained about. I incessantly talk about what I’ve been through in my intimate conversations and most reflective of times. I write about the hurt and struggle with blocking out those that hit hard but I’ve accepted every single emotion as a necessary jumping board to move forward and to move along. I look back every once in a while, but not with the same kind of remorse I carried earlier this year.

I am fulfilling the dreams we made together. You told me that someday I would be strong enough, and I am. That I would take on responsibilities without the fear of failing, and I have been. That I would learn how to see life as something beautiful, and I’m seeing it now. I’ve worked on my temper and my patience, my sensitivity and my compromise, my lack of consideration and my shallow quirks. Perhaps its safe to say that I’ve become the more apt version that you’d rather deal with back then, but we both know that it’s not possible to travel back in time.

I know that I’m going to be the one for someone else someday, but it troubles me that right now I live a life of doubt. I have never trusted anyone and have them break it after they’re done so this really is a huge obstacle I’m not certain I could face. Rebuilding an investment this big is almost as impossible as fixing a shattered mirror, although I do hope someone comes along to pick up the shattered glass. Loving again is not the question, learning how to know when to give my trust is.

Despite all this, you have made me stronger. The pain will never go away and the anger will always be there but you have saved me from being less that the woman I am today. I am all things but the girl you used to love. I am all things other than that weak individual and more. I want to thank you for hurting me and for making me feel my lowest, because it is through these instances that I have learned to love even more. You still continue to be one of my heroes, you still are my image of what love is like, you still stand tall as the first person to gamble into a commitment with me — even with full knowledge that I’m not your average Jane. Congratulations for dealing with my topsy-turvy mind which always went in circles and attempted to reach extreme points, you are one hell of a man for conquering my great deal of visions and thoughts. In many ways but one, you still are. I’m not sure if you’ve forgotten what I’ve meant by that, but yes — you still are.

In time I will find the man of my dreams, the man who will sweep me off my feet and make me understand the truths behind the complexity of love. He will erase everything that I’ve said just now because he will show me what it’s really like. But until that day comes, until that very day I free myself from the thoughts of not being good enough, I hold this part of you in my heart — a part of you that you’ve left with me, a part of you that will always make me remember how it feels like to have someone missing in your life.

The image of losing a loved one is what you epitomize alongside the pictures of leaving and lies. I wish they could have been prettier images, but the last few months left me with no choice. The paint you’ve left me with only allows me to fill in the easel with this kind of gloomy photograph, because there isn’t really any room for any streak of a bright hue.

I don’t know why I’ve mustered up to finally get to finishing this letter, but I guess I just wanted you to know that despite how much you have ruined me or torn me to pieces, my promises remain the same. I still am the same Kara you’ve once loved and lost, standing on the edge of the earth and getting on every journey she could embark on in the hopes of finding herself.

If you do get lost while on yours, just think about the memory of us. I will no longer be there to catch you for catching myself is a feat in its way, but I want you to hold on to the fact that we once conquered the thrashing tides and that together, we have found a safe shore.

I doubt if I have ever been your ‘one’, and of course I know that I no longer am, but every time I get the chance to pray, I ask that you find someone who will make you a better person — just as how you’ve unknowingly helped me become the best that I can. I, although not believable given the amount of anger that still rests at the pit of my gut, wish that you fulfill your dreams the way you’ve wanted life to turn out for you. I hope you grow up to be the man that I’ve always known you would — successful, happy, and the best friend anyone would kill to have. I do hope you’ve learned a thing or two from being with me. I’m sure I did because learning and growing up with you is one of the best things that’s ever happened in my life.

We’re both off to start new relationships — let’s just remember not to destroy them like we did us, even though I know in my heart that we could’ve ended up together. Heck, I would’ve even gotten that beagle I’ve always begged for or that pick-up you always wanted to have. But, maybe there is something better, something far more perfect, a significant other who will love us beyond what we thought was impossible.

In your constant search for all things that I wasn’t, I hope you find the perfect girl. Conquer the universe, dear you.

You can, because you are.

6 thoughts on “To you whom I’ve learned the most from,”

  1. The pain and anger of rejection, of feeling not good enough, can and will go away. Letting go of it will make you a stronger woman. In becoming a stronger woman in your own strength, you will attract a strong man. The two of you can then stand together and face the future, interdependent in life but not co-dependent for life.

    To be swept off your feet sounds great with all the promise of Disneyland and all the power of a tornado. At the end of the day, you are left with a fantasy or destruction looking like a war zone. Being able to stand side by side and walking hand in hand with someone who is just as strong as you are is a power that is much more seductive and much more enduring. […]

    1. “interdependent in life but not co-dependent for life.”

      Thank you for reminding me that it is only through myself that I can achieve the things I yearn to have. As I’ve mentioned in one of my previous entries, “It was great loving you, really. But it’s time I loved myself.”

      Thank you, Debbie. You have, in a way, made me a wee bit more stronger. Have a great day 🙂

  2. Hi, Kara! April made me read your blog and since I am not good in words like you are, I don’t quite know how to address my admiration on you due to what you had written but I guess it was really moving and made me teary eyed a little bit. The funny thing was, I tried on highlighting sentences that I thought were very striking but I only ended up highlighting almost everything! You’re a good writer, Kara! Not to mention a really brave one! How I wish I could be as brave as you are! On what you are facing right now, you’re very lucky and blessed to have April on your side! I know that you know why. 🙂 She’s like the friend not everyone could possibly have but the kind of friend everyone wishes for. 🙂

    I must wish you good luck on moving on but then, I think, I shall just say that you do good!:D

    1. Hi Danielle! Saw this only now, so sorry! Anyway, I think I’ve expressed my thoughts enough on Twitter so let me just thank you again for giving me inspiration and drive to keep on going. Bravery is, I think, something that you learn to pick up when no one else is there to be brave for you. It’s a scary place to be in, but can be quite liberating as well.

      I love your photographs so keep on shooting! Thanks again, Danielle. I hope to see you in person someday 🙂

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