Christmas Eve

It's been four years. It doesn't really feel that long unless I read my previous entries and I'm proven wrong. It has been that long.

Five years ago was the last Christmas we spent with you, in an unfamiliar place that almost reminded me of Shake, Rattle, and Roll. I watched you get wrapped in sheets of powdered carbon, laying there while the acetate blackened by what supposedly had the power to remove all the toxins from your body worked its magic. I read a book by the shore while you sat in saltwater, hoping to be rid of the liquid your body had been retaining, causing you to bloat. I laughed in amusement as you slowly slurped your liquid pancit.

Five years is pretty long. Half a decade, a young preschooler, more than your entire high school or college stay. But five years is also pretty short compared to the years prior to that First Christmas. I always wonder if I'll ever get used to it or if I'll ever forget how painful it is to lose someone you love. And every year, though the tears are no longer as frequent and steady as the first time, I slowly begin to accept that I'll always remember. And it's okay.

Though I sometimes wish things would remain the same, I know that change is expected. This time next year, I don't know if we'll even be staying in the same home. There will be new people in our lives. And there will probably be new traditions to get used to. But one thing I know for sure will never change, I will always have a family to come home to.

Merry Christmas! I hope that you have a family to celebrate with tonight. ♥

Coming home

When you say homecoming, I immediately think Romy and Michele's High School Reunion. Haha! Minus the interpretative dancing, I guess. Oh, wait. Scratch that. I remember a year after we graduated, we attended the homecoming and danced to Christina Aguilera's "Come on Over" (the Spanish version). Hahaha!

I went to two homecomings already. The other one was the expensive dinner in the MPB (Multi-Purpose Building to you, non-Assumptionistas). I don't even remember if we got away with not paying. :P All I remember was that we were super shocked to see the baby sister of our batch mates with the hot brother of our former English teacher. HAHA! Everyone in our table was talking about it. :P Mga chismosa kami eh.

Tomorrow, I'll be seeing my old school up in the mountains.

I remember going back a couple of years ago and not recognizing the cafeteria. It looked like a makeshift jail with all the railings (to discourage singit when lining up for food daw). The students didn't look familiar at all and everything just seemed so detached from me.

I used to think I'd be super popular when I go back to my high school. (cue Romy and Michele: "I invented Post-Its!") That I'd go back and give career talks because I'm some successful product of my school. Haha! Or I used to imagine going to our high school fair with a super hot boyfriend. Hahaha! My God, ano ba `tong dreams ko?!

Fast forward to tonight. I'm actually happy where I am now. I may not be super popular, or I might not be asked to give "expert advice" to high schoolers applying for colleges (oh, and I don't have a super hot boyfriend—no not even a not-so-hot one :P), but I'm happy. (: Happy to know that I'm not perfect and that I am continually growing as a person. This is truly a year of trying things for the first time. And I'm glad I've become that kind of person and not just someone who sticks to the familiar. And I guess going back to my home for thirteen years would be a reminder of what I used to be and how much I've changed (for the better).