A Decade After

So many things have gone wrong in my life. No, I shouldn't describe them as wrong, maybe just a little weird and not-so-normal, not-so-me. People who know me now probably would not have thought that I once aspired to become a visual artist. Because really, I don't draw or paint or do artistic stuff. I couldn't distinguish a masterpiece from a piece of junk.

Some ten years ago, I studied in an arts school funded by the national government. I was among the scholars of the country, many of them have become internationally and nationally acclaimed. As for me, I graduated with a degree in Accountancy - so very out of the arts league.

Why did I even qualify? I had good marks in the academic exams. I gave a good portfolio - awards and citations in school, division and regional levels. I delivered very well during the interview. All those compensated for the lack of inherent artistic skills.

My mother made me try everything - singing, dancing, drawing, writing, etc. I had my share of honor and glory in all those fields, but eventually, the truth came out that I'm a big fake. I'm not being hard on myself. I'm just being honest. I'm no artist. But I can do a lot. And at the top of my list of capabilities is: I can TALK endlessly. Ask me one question and I can give a very lengthy answer. In the end, you'd probably wish you never asked me.

With all those experiences and realizations, I'm not (and was never) frustrated. I'm actually happy that I experienced what I did. Now, I know what I can't be and what I want to be.

I have never told my stories for the one year that I spent at Philippine High School for the Arts. When I went home to GenSan for what is supposed to be just a summer vacation with my family, I never returned to PHSA. I couldn't be forced to. When asked at the time about my reasons, I wouldn't give any. It's like I wanted to block out everything that happened there. And I found it very easy to just forget.

There weren't any physical traumatic experience, contrary to the rumors at MSU (my new school) that I was raped.

I just felt tired and unhappy. I had friends but I knew that I didn't belong. At the age of 13, I had the courage to accept my limitations. I made a very big decision - to let go and move forward. There were others who waited to get ousted before they finally accepted what's coming.

I did not even say good-bye to my friends. The last time I saw them was 10 years ago. And I wouldn't know how to react if I'd see them now. We're all grown-ups; and strangers to each other. We don't share anything anymore. Seeing them would probably just make us uncomfortable. It's sad, really. But I'm still hoping that when time comes when we'd see each other, we can build something once again.

In my stay there, someone made my heart beat differently. And 10 years after, I still hold a piece of him in my heart. But I'm not hopeful anymore. So much has changed. Like I said, we have grown.

Thanks to the advancement of technology, I was able to see pictures of him. Tonight, after many years, I saw him again. And I'm happy to see him looking happy and very healthy. I may never see him in person anymore but I feel so much better knowing that he's well. And I will always have access to him. Haha. I hope I don't seem obsessed. Because I really am not. Right now, I'm just remembering and I feel like writing. I need a break from Accounting. So here's the output.

This is certainly the season to be happy and to reminisce. Happy holidays!!!