Last Say

A long time ago, I was the luckiest girl in the world.

Lucky in the sense that I was in a happy relationship with my best friend and everything that once felt out of reach had suddenly fallen into place. Everything suddenly made sense—why we met, why we grew close, and everything in between.

And, for once in my life, I believed that it was something I could keep forever.

I was a naive girl back then. Ruthless when it came to grammar rules and spell checks, but undeniably gullible when it came to love.

I was a naive girl back then, but I was happy. It even reflected in my monthly laboratory results: I was doing a lot better than I did months before. My abrupt emotional upheaval could have been the cause of that.

To this day, I still believe it was.

But I was young. I thought he, my best friend, would never think of committing a grave fault against me. After all, he knew about my issues. He knew about the state of my family. And he knew I was barely recovering, and 2 years had already passed then.

Maybe I overlooked his issues, too, but it doesn't matter now. All I know is, after that, we fell apart and, no matter how much we tried, we couldn't piece ourselves back together. It often felt like sitting at a table for dinner and only occupying one seat. Even when his flesh was right in front of me, I had never felt more alone.

I felt my existence transform into an apology with each passing day. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that. I'm sorry for taking up your time. I'm sorry I arrived too early. I'm sorry for waking you. I'm sorry, just go ahead without me; I might take a while.

From Tokyo Ghoul episode 5 "Scar"

I was once the luckiest girl in the world. I was in a relationship with a boy I could call my best friend, was in love with a boy who could sing wonderfully and accompany it with every strum of his guitar, and a boy whose creative and eccentric mind was something I could never rival.

But he, too, was also young and naive.

Maybe his hands kept shaking as he held me up, all the while carrying another personal weight on his back. He could no longer keep up with my sporadic but frequent bouts of jealousy. He was only human, just as I was.

We both had our issues. And maybe my first mistake was not leaving at the first sign.

But it doesn't matter now.

I really was once the luckiest girl in the world. I was happy. We were happy.

It's best to leave it at that.

But from now on—no more.

Always,
Claire

P.S. It's all very dramatic, but this is just my attempt to explain why I'm going off the 'dating scene' for a while (or a long while). It's hard to explain in a few words. All I know is I'm not ready yet. And I probably don't deserve to be with anyone again after all the damage I inflicted on my ex. Still, things could change, but, for now, no more.

Note: This is from my perspective; I don't mean to invalidate what he went through with me.

Overthinking in Broken Conversation

"I'm so glad I met you."

"No. You're not. You shouldn't be."

"I am not someone you can imagine in the long run."

"There is no future with me so you need to stop. I'm not worth it."

"I am shitty with break-ups when I am not the one doing it, so this is me doing one."

"Trust me, I am doing you a favor. Save yourself. I will only hurt you."

"You deserve better."

"You don't need someone like me in your life. Life is so much better without having met me."

"I have a doctorate in Professionally Hurting People. Don't expect to be an exemption to that."

"I am not good for you. You know that, deep down."

"If you start this, it is always guaranteed that I will end it. Because that's just the kind of person I am. I'm a quitter, and worst of all, I'm a quitter at the first and only sign of doubt."

"You will only ever love the idea of me, and that's what I want you to love. The real person is a dark place. And you will not be saved."

"I am going to run away before I do any damage - it's still early. It is safer this way. For both sides."

"If you value anything that is yours, don't let me have any piece of it. Don't let me take part of your life. I am a parasite. I will drain you and leave you to find the next willing host."

"Protect your heart from people like me. I am not anyone's soulmate. I am a lesson. Hopefully, the only one you'll ever need."

Always,
Claire

P.S. I may or may not have actually said some of these things in real life.

VIDEO: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m4ynDu7Hrlk

Warning Labels

I've been meaning to write about my first semester in college, but something happened when 2016 began that I just lost the drive to write about it. It is currently sitting in my drafts, unfinished and rotting.

But what is finished, however, is a certain relationship. I am not strong enough to recount to you the entire story since the "breakup" only happened exactly a week ago today. Though I am slowly accepting the reality of it, it still hurts. 

Here, instead, is a part of the story.

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I remember our last day together perfectly. It was a day that we had set a month prior, in December 2015. When we planned it, we just wanted to meet. We weren't planning on breaking up.

But something happened between the day that we planned it and the day we actually met, and while I will tell you that I had already changed my mind about leaving, you thought differently.

We weren't even officially together. Just old friends (or, rather, exes) who (still) had feelings for each other. Just best friends who found comfort in each other that trumped everyone else's version of it. The kind that said, "I can't find this in anyone else but you." You know what I'm saying? Even Mila Kunis and Justin Timberlake in Friends With Benefits got nothing on us.

We'd been texting since October last year, just two months after we ended our 8-month relationship. It first started as a normal "how are you?" "yeah, I'm good, MedTech's been killing me" "Please take care of yourself" kind of conversation, as was our habit even before our relationship. Eventually, it evolved into something more than that.

We found ourselves at the crossroads between friends and lovers.

Even at that crossroads, we still found many forks in the road. I was never really over you, even though I had a 2-week tryst after our official breakup and it was with a guy I didn't even like. And you, as you had claimed, were still in love with me and the pain was only making you miss me.

So I never really quite got over you, and that included getting jealous of other girls, of the same girls I was jealous of during our 8 months together. It was a bad itch that I, unfortunately, always scratched.

And you were the same, but we knew our boundaries because we weren't really together. What rights did we have?

That statement sure didn't stop us. Our toxicity to each other was never measured in our rights because, right from the start, we ignored our warning labels and went for the kill. Mine said "toxic material", yours said "fragile". Fragile because I was the one who left. I was the one who always left, needless to say.

We continued texting. I kept trying to push you away, kept trying to convince you that I was only going to hurt you, that even right now as we were texting, I was only making you hope, because we both knew that, after everything, I wasn't ready to be in a relationship again, especially not with you.

You always said that you were willing to wait for me, that if hurting while hoping was all you had of me, so be it.

You never were a fan of self-preservation. We were both the same that way.

What we did was a kind of cha-cha. Whenever you took a step forward, I took a step back. And whenever I took a step forward, you froze in your place, asking yourself if me making the first move was even real.

I'll admit, at that time, I had a cha-cha of my own. A one-person tennis game playing right in my head. My heart was scolding me because I knew I still loved you, and yet, there I was, dragging you by the neck.

In simpler words, I was leading you on. You gladly let me.

But you are still human, after all. Nobody has resolve that strong and the only thing I could tell you was, "You said you read the warning label."

So, on our last day together, after a year and 3 weeks of being together and not being together, including the actual relationship, I snuggled even closer to you, knowing that it would be the last. You were warm and comforting and you felt safe. I let myself bask in that because, even for a moment, I could pretend you weren't leaving.

"I love you," I said, for the first time in a very long time. Even in text or chat, I never let myself say it, afraid that it would only bring disaster to you. I said it a few times, maybe, but never enough to let you get used to it.

And for the first time ever, your reply was "Really?"

I struggled not to cry, instead choosing to just nod and bury my head in your chest, where I felt safer, and wondering why I never held you tight enough.

I had fears of my own. Plenty of them. They clawed at me daily, whispering things into my ears and I used to call you about them, and you'd accept them wholly, even when one of the causes for that fear was you, and you'd talk to me and help me get through it and, I don't know, there was always something in your voice that kept them at bay. Singing or talking—it didn't matter.

But you still left that day. There were many reasons: you got tired. You didn't know if I even loved you enough. And, mostly, you got hurt.

I know I screwed up this time. I had confessed to you, when the new year began, that there had been guys texting me. I never initiated conversation, but the fault in the matter was that I still replied. I did stop. It was never really difficult to stop texting mid-conversation. It was only difficult with you.

But I guess, even then, it was already too late.

The worst part of it all was that we weren't even in an official relationship. Then again, with us, labels never mattered, even the potentially dangerous ones.

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HERE'S WHAT I DIDN'T MENTION: For the first time in my life, I was the one being left behind. Before then, I always made it a point to be the one who leaves, never the other way around. The way I saw it, leaving was the lesser evil. It hurt significantly less than being left behind. But life has a funny way of biting you back in the ass and letting your sins finish you off. 

After leaving behind 3 guys, including him (who I left behind twice), I finally got a taste of my own medicine, and rightfully so, because I had never been hurt this much before now.

But I am happy to serve my penance because I know it is the only way I can fully understand the weight of my sins. 

I'll always be toxic material. What would you expect from a girl with an incurable illness and emotional instability issues? Tox(s)ic(k) material, indeed. 

Always,
Claire 

P.S. I had to keep a box of tissues beside me while writing this. That's why it doesn't make a lot of sense. But that's only a part of the story, anyway. I only write this in the hopes of getting it off my chest, but we all know I'm a professional at lying to myself. 

Our Uncle's Birthday

*A Comm 1 writing assignment turned blog post. The assignment was a "travel essay". I wrote this yesterday, Nov. 8, at the time stated in the timestamps within this piece. Basically, this was a "live" piece. The only thing that differed was our topic of conversation, but we'd already had a similar conversation in a different car ride before. I just incorporated that conversation into last night. 

Other than that, all sentiments in this piece are, for all intents and purposes, very true.

Dec. 9, 2015: This post has been edited. This is now the revised essay.

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Our Uncle's Birthday

The streetlights blur past us as our car attempts to push through traffic. We find ourselves at a standstill only seconds later. 7:05 pm. We promised our aunt, “We’ll be there by 8”, to their place at the other end of the province, but we know we won’t make it.

Still, it isn’t a problem. There’s nothing that can be done anymore. No point in rushing. We have to travel from Talisay to Consolacion, both at opposite ends of Cebu, both too far from each other.

2013

We silently decide to cherish the car ride, knowing that it will be another while ‘til we would see each other again.

My sister, buried in work as someone who has to talk ears off for 8 hours every night, finds herself in a state of calm as other vehicles rush past us on the highway. 7:11 pm. “It’s okay,” she says. “They’ll understand.”

My brother, driving the 10-year-old Adventure at a speed of 40km/hr, begins replying to whoever textmate as the stoplight hits red. “I’m tired of home,” he says suddenly, placing his phone back on the dashboard and releasing a heavy sigh. “I’m so glad I’m going back to New Jersey next year.”

7:20 pm. We pass by E-mall.

I keep quiet, deciding not to ruin our rare moment together. My sister lives in a boarding house in Banilad and my brother always goes home late from class—home to the place that has long felt more like a slaughterhouse with bloody parts hanging on hooks than a residence with live people.

I have to go home. I am the youngest. I am dependent. I will have to deal with a whip to my back disguised as violent words and a drumming loud enough to break my eardrums masquerading as indignant voices. It is me who will come home expecting another blow from the knife of verbal abuse and it is me who will break the dam when my tears burst through.

It is me who will carry the weight of my parents’ frustrations, alone.

My siblings have held my hand all these years as we trudged through our adolescence that felt more like a desert with no oasis. They have saved my life more times than I can count, made me drink from what water they could find even to the point of leaving nothing for themselves, but this time…there is no more saving.

2014

I suppose it is only just. The whips, the drumming, the knives, all these they have had to suffer worse before me. Seeing the terrible words that manifested on my sister as innumerable gashes on her back and the emotional bruises forming on my brother’s arm from protecting himself, I know that I cannot take away what they have been seeking for so long—freedom from the chains.

I suppose I’ve been lucky, blessed that they were there for me through all these years, even when all the wounds just wanted to break them apart. I have never asked for much precisely because they have given what I needed without knowing, but now that they are leaving, all I want to do is crawl after them, to hold on to their feet before they walk away for good, to beg for them to stay for me. I can’t do this alone. I can’t survive alone. I can’t let the sweetness of comfort leave. I can’t let my only oasis be taken away from me.

But it would be selfish.

So I stay quiet. Instead, I crank up the volume. Urbandub’s “First of Summer” resonates throughout the vehicle.

L-R: Ariane Gabrielle "Gabbie", Claire Michaela, Raphael Yves "Red"

2015

The Truth About Penance

I wish I could perfectly say things are okay now, but in the end, distractions are just distractions, and one day I'll have to stop running.

In truth, it's just a waiting game. I may or may not be waiting for the right time and right reason to leave.

I will never be okay with it, but maybe if I left behind the people/person who caused the pain, then maybe I will be. I don't know.

It's not pride nor is it stupidity. I should be over it by now, right? It's been months. I should no longer let it serve its purpose of existing. I wish it could be that easy to let go. Am I gripped by pride? Or love?

No. It's fear. Absolute fear that it will happen again and the constant proof that it could and maybe it will. I have convinced myself of these. I don't know how to stop—to place my trust again in people who have constantly found every reason to make the cut even deeper.

It's easy to make yourself seem a certain way to other people, like an unsinkable ship floating steadily on sea.

But even armors crack.

Reader, allow me to confess to you something that I will most likely erase. Then again, not everyone will be able to read this so let me release this from my heart. Let me do this for myself.

I am not as strong as I make myself to be. The unsinkable ship, the outspoken advocate, the one whose belief in love never faltered even with all the tribulations—I am all of those and yet I am not.

I lack the implied strength that comes with those 3 people. I cannot swim, should the ship sink. I would not die for the cause I'm fighting for. I would not put my heart on the line again after everything it has been through.

I am what's left of my armor—the one I call the unsinkable ship, the identity I treasure most. I created it, not for others to see me as such, but for myself, to remind myself I have to be strong in compensation for the truly weak and helpless girl inside.

What I am is scared. Afraid. Incomparably terrified of being hurt again. It is human enough, isn't it? I initially wanted to be positive about the past year of pain that I went through. I wanted to think that there was a reason to all this. Maybe I was just too blind to see that this was made to teach me a lesson and pave the way for the beginning of my penance—for all my present and past sins.

I realize now that the penance—the consequence, the sacrifice—is the inevitable lack of faith in even the most infallible people.

It is an insult to those who have done me no harm and a justice to those who have. I will not blame them for thinking that way.

But I must pay.

Ultimate Nine

If you know me in real life, you'd know about my inconsistency. In Bisaya (my dialect), though not the direct translation, I like to call it being mapul-anon.

It means that I get bored with things easily. I am always looking for new things in order to keep my interest because if I can't keep myself interested, I give up on it eventually. I end up quitting. It is only so very rarely that I can keep my interest in certain things.

This is also the reason why, after all these years, I still only have 4 favorite books (I'll talk about that in a separate blog post) or or why my favorite movie will eternally be V for Vendetta or why my top 5 anime still remains the same in the past 4 years or why, of all the poems in the world and of all the poems my favorite poet (Neruda) had written, I still only have one favorite poem and it is not even by Neruda himself (hint: its title means "unconquered" or "unconquerable" in Latin) (I have this poem memorized by heart).

This is also the reason why I only have 9 favorite songs up to this day. Sure, I've added to them over the years, and I change my favorites occasionally, but none of those "occasional" favorites can ever amount to how much I love my Ultimate 9.

Those 9 will be the topic of this blog post because I realized that I never really shared to anyone why and how they became my favorite (mostly because I don't think anyone's interested, anyway, which is why it will be thoroughly explained in this blog post because nobody can contest it anymore) (haha).

In no particular order:

1. "My Friends" by Red Hot Chili Peppers (x)
from the album One Hot Minute

I heard a little girl
And what she said was something beautiful
"To give your love no matter what"
Is  what she said

» I discovered this song back in 2010 through a YA novel my friend, Alexia, and I were crazy about. Needless to say, that book changed my life and is now in my Ultimate 4 for books (Revolution by Jennifer Donnelly). The part of the song above is the same part featured in the book. I wondered what song it was since, in the summer of 2011, my "angsty" phase began. It was also around that time I started being serious about learning guitar (although those lessons were completely moot, because I am shit at guitar).

Summer 2011 was a very sad time for me. I don't remember why now. I was turning 13 in August that year so maybe it was just the pre-pubescent vibes or something. But in May, something bad did happen so I guess that added to it.

This song saved my life. I can't exactly explain why. Maybe it was the sad first few notes or the even sadder first line, but when I first heard it, I instantly fell in love with it. I really don't understand how. And those lines above were what struck me the most.

It saved my life in the sense that it made me feel significantly less sad and that was an important thing for 12-turning-13-year-old back then.

Up to this day, my eyes still water whenever this song comes on shuffle. It is really good and I'm sure many people can connect to it the way I did. It's beautiful.

2. "Swim" by Jack's Mannequin (x)
from the album The Glass Passenger

You gotta swim, don't let yourself sink
Just find the horizon,
I promise you it's not as far as you think
The currents will drag us away from our love—
Just keep your head above.

» Anyone back then in the bandom of 2011 will tell you that this song is significant to them. I swear, everyone back then, when the bandom was at its peak and glory days, our glory days, loved this song to a certain degree. We were all, somehow, sad people back then, trying to find our place in the world through the worlds of Tumblr and Twitter, through the support of the same bands, where we made many friends that we intend to keep for life, despite the obvious distance.

It was this song that could define a portion of what we were feeling, if not all, especially when the third line goes, "Swim for the music that saves you when you're not so sure you'll survive". It made sense. Personally, it gave me hope that the sadness would eventually fade and that there was a brighter horizon ahead. I just needed to see past it.

3. "Take Your Time (Coming Home)" by fun. (x)
from the album aim and ignite.

For every love that's lost,
I heard a new one comes.

» This. This fucking song. Fucking hell of a song. 7 minutes and 53 seconds of pure beauty. I have yet to meet someone in real life who understands just how deeply ingrained this song is in me. The majority of my life's principles were sung by Nate Ruess in this song, written beautifully as well. 

Examples would be: "Take your time coming home" meaning I was entitled to take all the time I needed to heal. "Forgive everyone" meaning that the first step to any type of healing is forgiveness—of self, of others. "It's a beautiful thing when you love somebody" is probably part of the reason why, with all I've been through, I can never renounce my belief that love can conquer all (amor vincit omnia). And lastly, "for every love that's lost, I heard a new one comes" is where all this roots from. This line has proven to me, time and time again, just how much I love the song altogether. It's also in what Rumi said, "Don't grieve; anything you lose comes round in another form." and as someone who fears losing people—losing love—this is very significant to me.

I discovered this song through a The Maine fan fiction entitled Take Your Time Coming Home on Mibba (2011 was also the year of beautiful fan fiction). I'm not sure if the author still has that fic up, but I can tell you that it was a thing of beauty. Well-written. Angst, check. John Cornelius O'Callaghan V—hell yes.

4. "The (After) Life of the Party" by Fall Out Boy (x)
from the album Infinity on High

I'm a stitch away
From making it
And a scar away
From falling apart

» This song still makes my heart ache after all these years. I love this song partly because it's a common favorite with my brother, the one person who led me to the path of good music. I swear, we play this in the car every time he drives and we always—always—sing along at the top of our lungs.

I also love this song partly because I connect to it on a level I never thought I'd achieve. Look at those first few lines: "I'm a stitch away from making it and a scar away from falling apart." The life of a teenager simplified into one line. And when you hear the instruments just exploding by the time the chorus arrives—ready your tissues, friends. You're going to be a human waterfall when you get to the bridge.

This song should be a classic and it is really sad that it isn't as well-known as other Fall Out Boy songs. Then again, more for us, I guess? (Kidding.)

5. "Ruby" by Foster the People (x)
from the album Torches 

She says, "Happiness ain't free.
Everybody fights just like me.
But I've given up the ability to retreat."

» Yet another song about not giving up. This song is the work of genius. Hell, the entire album is a work of genius. I heard this album for the first time and I fell in love with it immediately. It just struck to the heart, you know? How everything blended together. And this song was what I connected to the most. Mark Foster sings about a single mother trying to raise her children on her own and how she's trying to get up from bed everyday without rest just to give them the life she was deprived of.

And in the last part of the song, he sings, "All alone, rest your head on my lap when you're down. Ruby, don't cry." which kind of gives hope to anyone listening that, even with all the hardships, life does offer a few reprieves.

6. "Fighting for Nothing" by Meg & Dia (x)
from the album Here, Here and Here

But I know that I was put here
to fight Vikings in the Cold War
With my arms out, in the front,
singing, "Dare me, dare me!"

» To anyone who thought I wouldn't have at least one Meg & Dia song on the list, shame on you. If you must know, 3 of the 9 are by Meg & Dia, which is understandable, considering they are my ultimate favorite band.

I could go on about this song for days, lyric-wise and music-wise. This song is a fine example of poetry in music. Also another song about not giving up, it affected my formative years greatly. It taught me to fight my demons no matter what and, with Dia Frampton's strong voice singing into my ears, I was converted real quick. And that guitar solo before the bridge is just [heart eyes emoji].

This is also a common favorite with my brother and my best friend, Johanna. We even made a video of us just singing this song and generally rocking out to it while my brother made a video of him playing it on guitar using power chords.

7. "Bandits" by Meg & Dia (x)

from the album Cocoon

But I awoke to blaring sirens

so I covered you with my jacket.

They bound my hand in metal bands

but I screamed to be distracting.

I drove away in their backseat,

saw your crying eyes behind the tumbleweeds.

When I get out, I'll come to find you

'cause you're my other half,

I never told you that, never told you that.

» This song is like the story of Bonnie and Clyde in music form, except I love it because I can see the Frampton sisters in it and how I see my own siblings in it. In a way, whenever I listen to this song, it's kind of like a letter to my siblings, of how I will never leave them behind, and how they will always come first for me. I would die for them. They are the only people I would die for. I mean it and they know it.

8. "Turning Page" by Sleeping At Last (x)

from the album The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part 2 OST

I surrender who I've been

for who you are.

Nothing makes me stronger than

your fragile heart.

» Yes, okay, so I have the complete OST of all 5 Twilight movies.....can you really blame me.....it's good music....

And this song. Goddamn. I have been trying to learn this song on piano ever since I first heard it as a writing prompt in writeworld and, while it is relatively easy, I am shit at piano so I never got past the first 5 notes. 

It should be known as the Ultimate Love Song because it is that good and the melody just makes you swoon then add in the poetic lyrics—god. The line "Nothing makes me stronger than / your fragile heart" is also something I connect to and why....I will never tell.

9. "Unsinkable Ships" by Meg & Dia (x)

from the album Cocoon

He taught me love and facts,
That we're not sinking, 
we're just tumbling down
to a place that's out of reach
from all the sickness that covers everything.

» Will the blog title suffice as explanation?

I'm kidding. But I do talk about this song in the Unsinkable tab on the upper right corner of this blog.

It's only about 2 minutes long, but it's enough to get the "I gave up on giving up on me" point across.

Keep in mind that I'm not really that picky with my music taste, just that there are 9 songs that have stood out to me. I will listen to anything, from any time and any genre, just as long as it makes me feel good or it makes me feel something. After all, isn't that what this is about?

Always,

Claire

BONUS: My ultimate favorite album is Meg & Dia's Cocoon (obviously, although The Maine's Pioneer is eternally battling for that position in my heart, and Foster the People's Supermodel and Fall Out Boy's Save Rock & Roll come REAAAALLYY close at second) and my ultimate favorite EP is Isles & Glacier's The Hearts of Lonely People (this supergroup has already broken up, but THLP lives on). The Maine, Urbandub, Mayday Parade, The Summer Set, Panic! At the Disco, and (of course) All Time Low made up most of my bandom years so they also mean a lot to me, even now that I've lost touch with the whole "fangirling" thing. Ah, those were the days.

Onwards: Cutting My Hair Short and Meeting Alahna Sy

New blog! Finally! I've been slacking off on making this blog. I made the notice on my old blog about making a new blog last April. A lot of things came up, you know.

My maternal grandmother, after 2 difficult years of battling lung cancer, finally passed away on May 10, 2015 (Mother's Day), so things have not been the easiest for my family these past few months. She kind of raised us, you know? Our parents were away a lot so she was the one who basically raised us.

As mentioned in my last legit blog post in my old blog, I broke up with my boyfriend of 5 months. We're both still trying to recuperate, but we've agreed to remain the best of friends.

But storms do pass and lately, I've been happy.

Last June 8, I finally met my online friend of 5 years and writing idol from Iloilo in real life! As you all know, the Philippines is an archipelago so making friends from a different island is difficult (duhh). But she came to visit Cebu for a few days and we decided to meet up and [AHHHH SO HAPPPYYYYYY OMG].

The wonderful Alahna Sam Sy!

We first started talking in 2010. We were both part of the bandom in both Twitter and Tumblr and—honestly, I don't remember how we became friends since everyone back then just interacted with whoever, but I do remember her being a huge part of my desire to improve in writing (seriously, click here to check out her blog. Bring tissues). I basically grew up with her in spirit.

So meeting her in real life was truly beautiful. We didn't actually do much—we just walked around Ayala, but we talked a lot, and it felt like we'd been friends for so long (partially true), even though we'd only really just met in real life. After 5 years. It was the highlight of my June. I can't wait to meet everyone else!!

There's still so many friends I've made online that I've been dying to meet, I swear. They're awesome people to talk to and I bet even more awesome in real life. Just like Alahna. (That day was so fun. I can't wait for her to come back :<)

The day before we met, I also had my hair cut. They say that if a girl cuts her hair short, it means that she'd just gotten out of a relationship she'd like to forget.

False for me, I guess. I cut my hair because it wasn't healthy anymore (partially caused by my monthly chemotherapy). My mother would not stop pestering me about how unruly it was (she wants her children to look perfect, always). And my previous relationship is not something I'd like to forget. Not in this life or the next.

This was my hair during my high school graduation. Left is me, of course, and on the right is my sister.

I guess life has been good so far. Classes start on August 10 for me so I've got two months to reevaluate my life and ask myself: Am I truly ready for college?

We shall see.

Always,
Claire