Tuesday, March 1
March 1 Tues.
“What’s there to forgive?
They didn’t do anything wrong, did they..?
Hindi naman masamang saktan si Celine Estrada eh..” –the one in the mirror
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A journal entry I found..
Let it speak for me now..when I truly have no words.
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March 1 2005
Time: ...
Location: ...
He left me today. He said it was to save me from his mom’s assasins. I don’t know what to believe anymore. I feel used, deprived, hopeless, relieved, and forlorn all at once. I punched the mirror – the left small one on my dresser. I broke it on the second punch. It shattered all over the floor, and all over my knuckles. I bled. I collapsed on my bedroom floor and spread my arms, like the Crucified Christ. I cried. I let 16 years pour out of me in blood, sobs, and tears. Even laughter. At 6:00pm on my watch, I got up and cleaned up. I covered my mirror with a cloth. From now onwards, I will not love too much ever again. Damn me if I do. I will get a radical haircut within the week to symbolize my taking off. God bless him – or whoever he is. I just want him to be happy. An me? I just want to go home.. God please.. take me home..
-end- 6:10pm
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