Cara Mia,
Lady is no more gaga, so it seems
Then 2018 slaps her out of her most perfect of dreams
We thought we were over the monsters and the skeletons. We thought burying them six feet under with the power of 2017 was enough.
We were wrong.
You had to go and leave -- again. Because life had more to offer. You went back to school and made the decision of finally overcoming your fear of disappointing others. But then there was the fire, and then the lack of it. You lost everything but ashes. Investments. Memories. An entire house full of good days and what ifs. You lost your last thread of hope as the firemen declared fire out. And what little was left from nothing, you lost even more to your failed attempt at a writing career months after.
Quickly, the repercussions of my many bad life choices piled themselves on top of the other, sandwiched perfectly to fit the last few remaining months of 2018. Thanks to this, you were pushed to the edge of sanity. A new batch of prescription pills, you thought, were the tamer solution over another round of crimson slits. But you had neither. Instead, you gathered the help of a long lost friend for that will to continue existing. Soon, you realized how he betrayed you by pushing you to the darkness instead.
You became better friends with the Void, though. Best thing that ever happened. You thought, you never should've left 2010 go.
I ended my reign with a smile. And hope. And a whole bunch of promises to stay hopeful. You ended yours in bed, out cold, tired from cooking all day because no one could help you fake a celebration for New Year's Eve.
That's it.
An entire year wasted on trying to be someone else.
Somebody needs to man up and own the responsibility of fucking you up. I blame 2016, with her reckless cheer and overachieving smile. Infectious was her optimism, her larger than life personality that she honed from all those summertime graveyard shifts. And by being a happy little freak, she has set off this domino of problems she didn't have to solve. You and I were left with the consequences of her actions.
At least there is wine to console you. Cheers!
Love,
Your Nihilist 2017
Photo by: Patrick Tomasso
There's no need to hurry this time.
Cara Mia,
Hi!
I just finished watching that YouTube video you forced down your throat two months ago, setting aside that last piece of diabetes-inducing chocolate bar.
The animated girl IS right, you know.
Thank you for choosing to be slightly better, even when it was a bit late for you to do so. That gave me a head start. Hardly a week has passed since I emerged from the ashes of the fireworks you were too afraid to watch. They were too close for comfort. You hated the rain, much more the rain of fire that are those Bulacan made sparklers.
But here I am, drenched in the knowledge that came from the months, the years after the university kicked me out from the warmth of its torch and into the cold, sad, brutal reality.
I now know, thanks to you, that friends come and go. Cliché, ha and ha. I know. But what you taught me was how brutal they were, and how caring they can be at the same time. You used to think you were special by being the only one with the best of both hells. Friends stay. Stick to you like the zits you've had since the beginning of time. Friends go. Some remain in the dark, others come rushing back, pulled into your life by nostalgia and sentimental what-nots. You taught me to keep the ones that matter. Truly matter. Because, we were both aware you may never find anyone mad enough to stay with you other than them.
I also learned that I'm over him. You, you already knew that before. It doesn't matter whether or not I have been forgiven. What matters was I have, you have, apologized and will continue to apologize for acting stupid that one time. The last time. He's happy, so he said. You're okay now, that's true. I know I can't let go of the fact that I still care enough about him that I'd care to say hello and how are you, but that's it. He needs nothing more, anyway.
Speaking of love, I learned to appreciate Michael more. He's such a mess. That messy hair, loose clothes (except his always skinny jeans), and his clueless face will never fail to complete my day. I love him. Can't believe I'm sane enough to admit that out loud. After all, I have never loved and cared about by another being this way before. I'm glad he got along with the family. He's such a charmer. I'm glad you made quite an effort to blend in with his religious family. He said he'd been praying for someone like you. You couldn't believe him, thinking he probably said that to his other girls before. But you knew he was telling the truth. He usually was. I really need to make an apology letter for what you've done to him. I'll remember, and will remember to remember, to have it written down soon.
Then there's our resilient family. It took a couple of months before we got our own place after the fire. Thank the stars for all the aunts, uncles, cousins who help us survive the aftermath of the inferno that engulfed our house all the way to Tartarus. Our sister was amazing. She stepped into the light of responsibility while you were spiraling down into the deep, inescapable rabbit hole of doom. She even looked the part of being the older child. Our brothers did their parts, as well, while doing their best at school. Of course, mom and dad. We had been Bradstreets twice but they've been stronger than before. You saw them cry. You saw how hurt they were. You saw how they kept you sheltered from the the ruins of what used to be your former life.
And of course, there is you.
2017 us loathe you. You made it hard for her to enjoy the good things that came out of forgetting and drawing a line between 2016 and the future.
To be real, I pitied you. A lot. The moment I emerged into sentience, I made it my year's goal to be better than you. The depression hit you harder than the rest of us. You went into places you shouldn't have. You were our collective all time low.
If it wasn't for you though, I wouldn't have been this psyched to achieve as much as I did back then. I wanted to pummel all the obstacles, and humans, I will encounter during my quest to greatness. The cat in me was back. On her third chance at life.
Cara Mia, I know. It hasn't been what you wanted. Things. Days. Months. The years that ensued your point of indecision. But we are already here. I am doing my best to make sure things get better as 2017 wanted it to be, how you wished it to be. It's a sedated, unhurried pace, but still a pace. We need to start from the bottom again, if that's what it'll take to claim our place at the throne of sanity and existence.
We'll get there, don't worry. There's no need to hurry this time.
Love,
You, doing her best to be better