Despite the downward slope, my 2015 has been a lot better than the past years. 2013 was horrific. 2014 was a bit better. 2015 was my could have been—which doesn’t sound really bad at all because it only means I am a step closer to maybe figuring things out (that’s me with a different perspective). I remember ending 2014 with the thought of keeping the good thing going and I think I made good progress about that.

Like everyone else, I wanted things to change, so bad. There were so many things I wanted to change just so I could make myself feel better but I don’t know how. No one in life has figured things out. No one ever wrote a handbook on how to deal with change and get better results. So I did one thing I don’t usually do: pray.

No one, not even my closest friends would believe me. I am not known to be religious but I would have to say my renewed faith did almost all the progress I have made.

God, give me the courage to do what I have to do is what I have repeatedly asked God every night before sleeping. For quite some time it seemed like I was fooling myself, relying to the heavens for the things I am supposed to do for myself. But then the fateful summer came and everything started changing.

Me first

2014 taught me I had no one to make me feel better, only myself. Hence, I made 2015 all about trying to put my happiness first—which is never easy, to be honest, for someone who is used to putting someone else’s happiness first before hers (at least that’s how I see myself).

Loving me is never easy. Thinking that if people find it hard to love me and stay with me, how could I love myself? It was mentally accepting that the only person I have in this world is me and that I had to try, everyday, to love what I have become.

Pagod na ako pero mamahalin pa rin kita is a line I probably heard from a television drama that best describes the kind of love I have for someone. I realized that the best thing to ever happen in love is to be loved the way you want to be loved. And I thought, that’s how I want it to be—thinking that if I can love someone beyond their perfections and be hell-bent in doing so then what keeps me from loving myself in that same way?

I grew up being disappointed over things I can’t have and it is almost in my nature to be frustrated over things I can’t control. So the first thing I did was to go easy on me. I tried to stop pushing myself too hard when things get difficult, to stop blaming myself over things I could not accomplish and most importantly, to forgive myself everyday for the mistakes I keep making.

I stopped forcing myself to do things I do not want to just for the sake of pleasing people but I never forgot the value of helping, of still being able to do good deeds even if it means halting the process.

To make it simple, I stopped beating myself up.

You can be a good person with a kind heart and still say no.

Every now and then I had to remind myself that I am a good person regardless of what people say or how they see me. Thinking that beating myself is already too much, I do not need anyone else to have a hand on this.

For someone who keeps getting a no in life, I can hardly imagine how difficult it is to be the one who gives it.

For the first time, I said no and I never felt so bad about it. I knew it was the right thing to do and thinking of it negates the fears I had.

I’ve been called, straight up, a bad person for doing it and it inflicted the same pain as being on the receiving end of a no. I am not a bad person for trying to do the right thing, for trying to be fair.

I made decisions that broke other people’s hearts but I had to make them so I could save myself from doing the same mistakes. After all, doing them again would defeat the progress I have made and would mean ignoring the promise I made to myself.

It was hard to say no to something good, something that probably happens once in a lifetime, something that will probably be my last chance at things.

But believing that the pain will pay off and that you’ll thank me someday is what makes it easy.

Giving people the chance I did not have

It took one birthday celebration to remind myself that I have people and that no matter what kind of relationship I have with them, I have to make it prosper.

I was so used to having people come and go—my track record consists of being the one left behind—and that made me put up walls. I stopped trying to meet people and kept myself with my constant companions, not knowing that there are people out there who can also offer me the kind of friendship I can keep for the rest of my life.

Not having someone there for me should not keep me from being that kind of person someone needs. So I learned to give people the chance to know me. I learned to give people the chance not to break my walls, but to climb over it.

Believing in Eventually

2015 constantly reminded me that things take time. If it took three years for Adele to come up with a new album, why would I force things to take place the moment I want it to?

Rome wasn’t built in a day and moving on does not happen overnight. Over the entire year, I took a few steps back unintentionally. There were a lot of emotional landmines I could not avoid. Sometimes I find it easy to just stay where I am rather than to walk away. These were setbacks I had to face so that I could end up where I am right now.

I was so eager to feel better, to accept things the way they are that I forgot about how everything always takes time.

There was nothing I can do to speed up the whole healing process except praying for it to be over someday. Even in prayers, healing wasn’t immediately granted. I learned to wait for something that is not even guaranteed.

I stopped making myself believe we are wasting time and that someday, in God’s perfect timing, things will be alright.

Believing in the due process of things promises better results than taking shortcuts because here we are, here—we—are. But things do not end here. I know for sure that 2016 will play a big part in the fulfillment of our eventually, of eventual forgiveness, acceptance, and peace of mind whether we chose to do it separately or not.

I stopped giving myself excuses.

Many times over 2015, I did things just for the mere sake of getting it over and done with. I learned that the only way to get to the other side of the bridge is to go through it.

I have crossed so many bridges and I did it by letting my body do the work. I am known to be indecisive and I knew at the very start of 2014 that it is something I have to improve on. So I dragged myself out. I stopped thinking twice and just let myself go with the flow.

Falling short.

Why would I call 2015 the year that could have been if I have never experienced falling short at least once?

Career-wise, I have made good progress this year by going out of my comfort zone. At the start of the year, I thought my career is something I could still save. That it was something I could focus on and be better—because my love life sucks and the rest are a palpable zero.

Ever since my first job leveled my self-esteem, I have dodged every opportunity of writing. Sure, my job as a web editor still requires me to write, but it was something that did not ‘require too much’.

Some time in March, I decided to quit my job because it does not fulfill me anymore. I had to give in to that nagging feeling I had for two years. It was bittersweet for many reasons because it was too personal for me and the events of the summer have lead to many things.

That includes an opportunity for me to go back to something I was good at—writing for a publication. I wrote for a magazine and it paved the way for me to overcome my fear of not being better.

But I fell short and I still find myself thinking whether I should have left while I still can, because now I still find myself in the same spot where I started.

I wish I could say it differently with relationships. I still suck at moving on and I still get emotional lapses time after time. Halfway through 2015, I was under the impression that starting over is possible, that I am finally in the final phase of things.

But life plays a joke on me just when I was about to take the jump.

I just hope that finally having that motivation will push me further to close one door and open another. I just hope that 2016 will give me the closure I need and the new beginning I deserve.

***

I sit here, wondering how to conclude a year end blog I wrote three days before New Year’s Eve. I halted, thinking that I should put it up the last minute (maybe an excuse to wait for a possible year end plot twist) and hopefully find the mood to end it on a good note.

If you’d ask me right at this very moment (December 30, 2015 / 8:32 in the evening) about how I feel, I will wholeheartedly admit to feeling sad (I just told my friend thru text that I am a bit depressed). But reading this stuff I wrote days before, I could not help but feel a tidbit happy and relieved that I have made good use of my 2015.

I may have fell short at the last quarter but I know that the progress I made all throughout the year is not something I should disregard. My 2015 may have ended on a downward slope but it’s still a good year, a better one.

You have made progress, Cris. You deserve to be happy.

The people you never see can be all sort of things—a chance you did not take, a story you never read, a poem you never wrote, or simply a tear that never fell. And there are a lot of stories about it, but the end game is always the same—just another what if.

Remember the cliche Love is Blind? Turns out it's not only applicable to those who love without questions. It's also applicable to those who never saw what they could have because they were blindsided—by friendships, by fear, by cowardice, or simply by the lack of awareness.

The people you never see are not the ones who are literally nowhere near you. They are not the ones who live miles away from home and whose absence creates a sinkhole in your day-to-day. They are the ones you bump in to on ordinary days and you did not even bother to stop and say Hi. They aren't the ones who sit across the table either. They are the ones who stood by the table waiting for you to decide which seat to take so they can pick the next seat and sit beside you.

The people you never see are not always the ones whose numbers are on top of your speed dial list. They are often the ones buried somewhere in your phone book. Wishing every time the phone rings, it’s you. The people you never see are not exactly the first people you think of when you want to go see a movie. They are usually the ones who ask you time and time again if you can spare today for coffee.

The people you never see are not the ones that pop in your mind when you hear a decent love song on Spotify. They are the ones who come up with numerous mix tapes thinking that maybe when you hear it, you'll finally get it. The people you never see are not the ones you chase after in a game of tags. They are the ones who stop at the sight of you running, willing to be it for you.

The people you never see are sometimes the one standing in front of you. Waiting for you to finally stop chasing after the people who never really look at you the way you should be looked at.

They could be around you and you would never know a thing about them. I can't blame you for being so dense.

But there's also this.

Sometimes the people you never see are the ones you chose not to. Because maybe you are afraid of commitments or that maybe he is too much for you. Maybe she is so damaged you don't know if you can handle her. Or maybe he's not anywhere near the standards or ideals you have set.

So maybe you chose not to stop and say Hi. Maybe you've put someone else's name on top of your speed dial list because for you, they belong there. Maybe you lied and said you didn't like coffee just so you could have a valid reason to turn down the invitation. Maybe you chose to ignore the numerous mix tapes he sent your way because you don't want to think of his face when you hear it. And maybe, just maybe, you chose to run away at the sight of the person chasing you because you don't want to be it for them.

You have your reasons for letting this one pass. You have your reasons for saying no.

I'm sure the numerous romance movies you've seen have taught you what makes a person someone else. You could make an excuse out of the movies that taught you a thing or two about romance. How you wanted that romantic John Cusack showing up with a boombox in Say Anything or that to me, you are perfect kind of romance from Andrew Lincoln in Love Actually.

I’m not in the mood to write. I am still fleeting from the celebration of my 26th year. But I can’t let this one pass. I need something to remember it.

On the morning of September 10, I woke up and it hit me. I’m 26. My deepest concern during that moment was this: Will it still be called quarter life crisis if I am already past the age of 25?

Sure, you can all say I am in denial. When asked about my age, I answer with 23 or 24 as if I am certainly right. But hey, the joke's on me, alright?

Adult-ing has taken its toll on me that a moment of denying it makes me feel so glorious.

Things turn serious when you realize the pressure of age (and also the pressure of paying the bills). Ideally, at the age of 26, we should all be matured individuals working our ass off somewhere at the top of the corporate ladder. Nope, no more 9 to 6 pace because we can just get on and off whenever we want to. We should be the boss by now.

Ideally, we should all be living on our own in a place of our preference (city living or suburban living, your choice), driving around the ‘hood with a red car, the fruit of our insanely huge paycheck.

Yep, if you asked me five years ago on where I see myself come this point in time? That’s my answer.

But I am nowhere near the ideals I have set for myself the day I stepped out of college. I do not work at the top of the corporate ladder, I still have to go through the 9 to 6 work pace and still get deducted for my tardiness, and nope, none of that own pad in the city, the red car to drive around the hood, and not even that insanely huge paycheck.

At 23, I remember weeping my way to all the rabbit holes I got myself into. It was that year in my early twenties when I wanted so much to achieve my ideals. I had a good thing going on back then, but I wanted everything to be perfect.

I put a lot of pressure in myself and felt disappointed to a certain point when I realized I was nowhere near the kind of person I want to be. Remembering that, all I could ever think about was this photo:
25 was a good year. I think it was that year when I have finally, finally started to figure things out. It wasn’t easy. There are so many bumps in the road and I couldn’t even remember how I did it. But it was the year when I finally feel fine.

I’ve done so well compared to my previous years and I just couldn’t help but feel #blessed.

My career hasn’t been better. I found my way back to writing as a magazine reporter. My current company acquired a magazine, which turned out to be an opportunity for me. There are many hurdles along the way, but I managed to balance both my tasks as a Web Editor and a Reporter. I could not help but feel happy about doing a few profile stories of today’s successful men and women and finally get my name published.

It was something I am truly thankful for. My writing needs a lot of work. Most of my stories still go through bloody QA, but it wasn’t so bad at all. I am enjoying the perks of going out, meeting new people, and discovering different industries. I wish to be able to continue this kind of job, even after the time to quit comes.

Surprisingly, I am also doing well with relationships—no, not the romantic kind. I have made new friends who made most of my time at work easy and fun. I never really thought I’d find them. The squad makes things okay for me at work. They keep me company and they have been about fun. They were there when I thought I had no one.

It is also important to mention that these guys are the ones responsible for making my day truly memorable. I don't really get surprises that often, most especially during my birthday but this group put in all the effort to make me happy. Surprises went on the entire day—gifts, birthday cake and flowers, and a serenade—just when I thought I have exhausted all my tears (of joy). lels.


It was spectacular. Thank you guys, for all the effort you put in to make this day amazing.

Love-wise, I have done a good job dodging trouble when it came knocking on my back door. It wasn’t easy to say no to someone who sees you, who pays attention to everything about you, who actually listens. But I guess the best thing I’ve learned about love at 25, it is to never feel bad about knowing what you want. And I've read this somewhere: it is not your fault it is not what you want. And I could not agree more.

Although the thought of saying no to something that makes you feel again is quite as scary as realizing there may never be another one like this, I will find reverie in the fact that I went for something more, something that I think I deserve.

Somehow the thought of knowing what you want helps you discern the kind of things and people you want to associate your heart with. It is nice, relieving to say the least, to finally, finally feel okay about things I can't get, the people who have turned me down over and over again, the people I have hurt while I was doing the right thing, and the things that will probably never happen again.

At 25, I have also learned to let go of the things that are holding me back. To finally understand defeat and accept it. To finally be okay about the things I cannot change, and to finally understand what it was like to love unconditionally. I have never realized I am capable of loving someone without asking them anything, but to be okay. And to me, that was a big step toward acceptance and maturity.

I was walking on my way home last night and I couldn't help but think of the times my friends have noticed the difference in attitude and aura. I was happier today than I ever had in the past two or three weeks. Some friends teased me about the sudden change like some sort of a new love prospect was behind it. But I want them to hold their horses.

Today I was happier, and I want to hold on to that thought for a little longer as if it will make me resilient to pain, to sadness. Nothing about what's going on now says that 26 won't be a good year because I know it will be.

I know i still love you because
i think about you day and night
and even if it was years ago when our lips
last tasted love i still
remember it like it was yesterday
and i still remember how
our last kiss felt.
It lingers even after so many others.

I know i still love you because
i wake up in the morning and all i can
ever think about was how i buried
my face in between your neck and your shoulder
where i kept all the secrets your hands
told me on nights we were golden.
I found refuge in your body.

I know i still love you because
despite the mouthful of promises i have broken
i am still here wanting to make amends
and i want to do them while tracing
the line of your jaws with my lips,
careful not to place regrets.

I know i still love you because
when the world healed me well
i found out i am still trying to
begin to forget your face
and i can't.

Our memories are buried deep in my heart
but that doesn't keep them from coming
back to the surface and sometimes they flow
through my veins.

Love, in my head they were as red as my blood.
There was no way to let them go without
having to rip my heart open and
expose it to the world.

I know i still love you because
i hesitate to take window seats
and with the rest of the things
we used to do together,
my body still hasn't break the habit.
You are supposed to take this seat.
You are supposed to sit beside me.

I know i still love you because
when you left, the world stopped taking my breath away
the only view i need is your face
and whenever i think about that time
you were sleeping on my steep shoulder,
it makes me think about how one still
craves for something she has.
and i still have it,
the feeling of your head resting on me
and the smell of your auburn hair.
It doesn't matter where we're going
as long as you're with me.

I know i love you because
even if i write so many poems about
us, it can't suffice the years we have lost,
and the longing i feel for you.
And i fear i might write for the rest of my life.
you have made me believe i waited
23 years of my life for something like this,
what's another 23 years?

I love you because,
well,
I still do.