I wish I knew that you wouldn’t be in my life for long. I wish I knew that in the end it was my choice to let you go. I wish I knew, then maybe I wouldn’t have ever let you in.
I wish I were dumber before all this happened. I wish I didn’t have my heart broken before you came along. I wish that I could say all that pain was worth it, but it isn’t and it never will be.
Last Friday, while the typhoon was devastating a part of our country, my friends and I were out at a dinner party. On the drive back home, the rain had stopped, the roads were covered with leaves and tree branches, and some houses didn’t have lights on. Sometimes I forget how blessed we are, that the worst we can possibly experience is not having electricity or water.
There were times over the weekend that I actually wondered if the typhoon was as bad as people were saying it would be. I’d scroll past photos and videos of the aftermath of the storm but wouldn’t realize the gravity of it. I’m not sure though what made me change my attitude about the storm, but finally and thankfully I snapped out of my delusion.
Today I woke up in a cold sweat and food poisoning (that’s what I get for constantly cheating my diet I guess). But I offer up my own personal suffering for the victims of the storm, to those who’ve lost their lives, to those who’ve lost their loved ones, to those who need the prayers the most. A complaint on my part does no one any good, but I know that even the simplest of prayers and sacrifices can make a difference for someone else’s life.
Feels a bit surreal that it was exactly a year ago that I led a youth prayer meeting for the first time. I recall diving head first with excitement and no hesitation when I was asked to lead. I wanted to be God’s servant and I didn’t want to say no to something that not only He wanted, but something that I wanted to do as well. The prayer meeting was called “Nothing Else” which referred to the love of God for us. Our message back then was about God’s love: that if we truly knew the depths of his love for us, then we wouldn’t have a hard time letting go of everything we’d been holding on to.
Fast forward a year later, as my friends are now preparing for the upcoming October youth prayer meeting. Their message is somewhat similar, to have faith; that when our lives our a mess, we should have the faith to let go of everything we’re trying to control and allow God to work in our lives instead.
I don’t know if it’s a coincidence or what, but maybe it’s time I quit trying to hold on so tightly to everything I have and stop trying to control every single part of me. I haven’t been using the faith I was given, and my strength that I’ve been relying on is running out – the exhaustion is creeping up on me and one day I’m going to burn out again.
I’m surprised that my own message last year would still hold applicable to my life up to this day. And maybe it still will be next year, and the year after that. There’s always something that I’d need to let go of. Back then, I held on to so much anger and hurt and it got the best of me, leaving me a mess. I had to let all that go in time for the prayer meeting, and when I finally did, I could breathe and actually start living again. Now, I’m not holding on to hurts or anger; rather, I’m holding on to control over every single part of my life – school, work, friends. Maybe it really is time to let go and just allow myself to run back into God’s open arms. I know He’s there, and hopefully, I’ll be able to find it in me to go back.
Five years ago, I entered a stranger’s house with a bunch of my friends. The place was packed with people, girls I knew and guys I had yet to know. Lightly spiked cocktails were being passed served and those who were brave enough, accepted the drinks. We played party games to break the ice, yet still I still found myself awkwardly trying to strike up a conversation with whoever stood next to me. I was 14, a high school sophomore, dewy-eyed, and without a care in the world – and I was attending my first soiree at my would-be best friend’s house.
Tonight, I entered that same house alone this time. Everything was familiar, the steep driveway, the 10-foot wooden front door, the black marble floors, down to which piece of furniture went where. Nearly everyone was a stranger again, but I went to the table filled with the people I’d met 5 years ago. We’d all grown up – gone are the metal-mouthed, acne-ridden adolescent days. We were all dressed in smart attire, with our hair styled, looking clean and mature. We’re all in our 20’s (or nearing it at least) and we’d come a long way. But it wasn’t in what we were wearing or how we looked that the past five years all converged in. Instead, it was in one single person: my best friend’s 3-month old child. Today, September 29, 2013, baby Lucas was baptized and we all came to celebrate it.
This night was incredibly surreal. Five years seems like such a short amount of time in the average human lifespan, but looking back at everything that happened, it feels like a whole lifetime. A lot of old memories were dug up tonight; from all the wasted nights at that house, to the people we’ve dated, to the awkward moments in our lives. We all laughed about it, but going beyond the good times, I realized how much we’ve all changed. Back then I was a young and innocent high schooler, the stereotypical uptight Catholic schoolgirl who hated boys. Now I’m in university, doing ministry work, interning in an art store, and just living life the way I want to.
I can only imagine how it feels like for my friend. When I first met him, I didn’t think we’d become friends at all. It was only 2 years later, that we started spending more time together, and I watched him grow so much. I’ve seen all his screw ups, his victories, his heartbreaks. Who knew that the boy who owned the house we had our soiree in would become one of my closest friends? And who knew that one of my closest friends would be a father now? I can’t even begin to explain how proud I am of him, seeing how far he’s come. His 15-year old self would look at who he is now and would most definitely say “I never expected this, but I’m so happy for you, and I’m proud.” And then I look at myself again, and I know my 14-year old self would say the same thing about me.
It’s in taking a step back from who we are, that I see how life means growth and constant change. I have no reason to be disappointed in who I am, because who I was would love the me now. And if I can’t help but still feel dissatisfied, then who I am now will love who I will become. I’m proud of myself. I discovered friendship, success, defeat, courage, loss, love. I’ve made terrible mistakes, but I’ve learned not to make them again. I’ve pushed people away, but I’ve learned the joy in letting them in. I’ve screwed myself over, but I’ve discovered who I am and ultimately who I want to be.
Five years changes a lot of things. I look at the next five years of my life and everything is hazy. I have great plans for myself, but I do know that not all of them are going to happen, simply because people change and I may not want the same things in the future. But regardless of what happens, whatever highs or lows I go through, I’m definitely going to be proud of myself.
To baby Lucas: you don’t know it yet, but I’m so happy to have met you today. You were a pleasant surprise to all of us, and beyond that, you let me see how everything just falls into place even when life feels like crap. You’ve made me see that although five years seems so short a time, a lot can change. Plans will be different, some won’t be fulfilled, some will be even beyond our wildest dreams. And there will be a lot of bumps along the way, some life-changing surprises. And of course, a lot of mistakes to be made. But in the end, it’ll all be worth it. You are worth it, and I’m so proud of you and your parents, for you’ve all come such a long way.
in between borders 