A Valentine Story...

Whoever said that Valentine’s Day is only specially meant for couples? Those people are ought to be massacred. Slashed and stabbed to death. Slaughtered. Now, that’s too morbid. Wait, this is supposed to be an inspirational article! What’s with the macabre statements? Anyway, before I end up giving account of the gory details of how to kill people why don’t I just tell you my story? A story that will remind you that, it is indeed God, who molds up our love story. Here is how it goes…

A Valentine Story
Claudine Claudio

I was never the kind of girl who panics when I haven’t received a date invitation from a guy before the 14th of February or what the romantics usually call, “The Love Month”. I kept thinking, “So what? I’ve lived well enough not having a single date on the 14th for the last 16 years. And besides God knows when it’s time.” Yes, this was my defense almost 3 years ago before I went to college and before guys seemed to be suddenly “seeing” and “noticing” me. Since I entered college and distinguished other worlds aside from San Pedro, Laguna and met people other than Liceans, I became more of a world-conscious human being - always thinking of what other people would say and always wanting to prove something. I was always out with someone on Valentine’s Day for the last 3 years. But this year, February 14 came a little too suddenly. My love life was hastily dropping to zero. It was eight days before the 14th and nobody has invited me yet! I was in a silent panic. Then a couple of guys asked me out 3 days before. I wanted to say yes to anyone of them just in case no one else would ask me out. But I did not. I told them both I’ll think about it. I’ve got three reasons for letting them wait. First, I hardly know them. Second, I was trying to collect date invitations so I could choose later whom I like most on the night before the 14th. Lastly, and the most sensible reason I had; I was waiting for a particular guy to ask me out. The first may seem too shallow for a reason. The second may seem too unkind. But when you are madly in love with a guy who considers you only as his best friend and might never even think about you on Valentine’s Day, you’d rather spend the day with someone who thinks of you as somebody special than make your day miserable by wondering if he’s out with someone else. My goal on Valentine’s Day: Have a date, forget about him and make the day happily remarkable and extraordinary.

February 13 Monday night, I prayed to God. No, it’s more like talking than praying. I asked Him to make tomorrow a happily remarkable day. A day I would never forget and filled with love. And I promised Him that I would try my best to be a good girl. I approved one of the 2 invitations I had received 3 days before. We agreed to meet at 3 p.m. in a mall near my university. Before going to sleep, I sent greetings of love through SMS to all of my friends. The next day, my most awaited greeting from my best friend woke me up. I usually go back to sleep on my first “wake up” call but seeing his name on my inbox hauled the sleepiness out of my system. He asked me if I have a date. I lied and said I have none wishing he would ask me out. I didn’t want to ask him the same question because I was afraid of what his answer might be. But I asked him anyway just to have peace of mind. I was utterly relieved when he said he’s on a duty and could not afford to go. I know it was mean but I can’t help but feel glad that he’s not going out with anyone that day. The conversation ended with me wishing him a good day. I left home greeting my parents a Happy Valentine’s Day and kissed them. As usual, my father sent me off with a sarcastic remark about how I would waste my day and money with a guy on a date. I never really appreciated his irritating jokes so I left home with a puckered brow once again.

At around 12:30 while my only class for the day was boring me to death, I was shocked to receive a message from my best friend inviting me to come with him on a group date after his work at 7 p.m. on the same mall where I would be having my first date for the day. At first I thought he was actually asking me out! But he later clarified on his next message that he wants to pair me with one of his friends. I was initially outraged. I wanted to squeeze myself into my cell phone to his so I could give him a fist and a big “No!” But the intense longing to spend time with him on Valentine’s Day made me say yes. I know it was a naughty decision. I would be having two dates in one day with two different guys! But then I asked myself, “I thought you want this day to be extraordinary?” As soon as I exited the class room, I received an SMS from my mother informing me that she was alone in the mall near the university waiting for my father and asking me to accompany her until he returns. I had a date but I decided to accompany her until 3 p.m. because it would not be good in God’s eyes if I lie to Mama and leave her strolling in the mall alone not knowing where to go (I promised that I’d be a good girl, remember?). I was really that determined to make the day really wonderful. In the mall, Mama treated me lunch in my favorite pizza parlor and asked me if I could stay with her until 5 o’ clock. She said my father was taking care of his papers in his agency and would not be back until 5. At first I hesitated to do what I think was the right thing but when I pondered about what’s more important, I cancelled my first date, apologized and explained to him the reason. He was very understanding so I did not feel very guilty.

After pigging out 4 pizzas (I’m really a pizza addict), Mama asked me to help her choose a black bag pack for my father. While we were strolling around the department store, I confessed to Mama that I would be having a date later at 7 o’ clock. It was the first time in years that I have asked her permission to go out with a guy. I’m not used to disclosing my romantic affairs to Mama but that day I have a strange desire to reach out to her. I’m not sure, maybe because we seldom spend time alone together to talk about girl things. I told her that the guy really means a lot to me and I would really love to go. I could see amazement in her eyes when she turned to me and announced that she would love to allow me if only my father would not be leaving tomorrow for Europe. She said it was the reason why she went all the way from Laguna to Manila so she could accompany him in attending a briefing in his agency. She told me that they both planned that after his briefing they would surprise us with a family date in Harbor View, Roxas Boulevard. Upon hearing this, I had this intense urge to shout a big “No!” I’ve been savoring the feeling of being wanted for having more than one date invitation on the 14th. Not all girls can have that pleasure of feeling so beautiful! I have cancelled my first date but it wasn’t that tough to handle because that guy was not really important to me. And now I’m about to lose my date with my best friend’s friend which I’ve been imagining as ours all along! So I stayed with her while waiting for my younger brother, his girlfriend, and my 2 cousins who accompanied my 7-year old sister from school to Manila. I sent an explanation and apology to my best friend through SMS. I received a one-word response “ok…” Knowing him, I knew he was disappointed. After this, my mood worsened. I wandered with Mama in the mall envying every woman with flowers in their hand. I couldn’t help but wish I was in their place. I wanted to ignore every couple I came across with. But that would mean walking with my eyes closed because almost everybody has their partners. I felt as if my parents were ruining my Valentine’s Day. It was supposed to be my day! My romantic day! Not my family day! At 5:30 p.m., my father arrived. He would not stop mocking me and sardonically questioning me why no one has invited me to date. I felt so miserable at that moment that I took his joke seriously. Again, my repressed hatred for my father surfaced. I began remembering his past mistakes, flaws and faults. My parents ordered me to sit on a steel bench somewhere in the 3rd floor while they search for a bag leaving me alone there with a heavy heart. I felt a tremendous urge to shout as loud as I can. I may seem too shallow but I felt like crying. I know it was wrong for me to feel that way. It was very childish and immature of me. Then I remembered my prayer to God. I tried so hard not to question His plan for me. But I thought, “It was just a simple request. I tried to do the right things all day. I just want today to be happy. Why won’t You let me? Don’t I deserve it?”

Those 30 minutes of waiting in that insipid bench in front of a flower stall (which I, at first, thought as God’s way of taunting me because I questioned Him), gave me a chance to ponder on how small-minded and stupid I had become. I spent about 15 minutes just staring blankly ahead of me (which was the irritating flower stall!) feeling like I was the most miserable person in the mall. Then I caught a glimpse of a family with an infant passed by me. Behind them was a teenage couple who seemed to be glued together because they won’t let go of each other. The family and the couple looked equally happy to me. Then in the midst of my observation, came the most sensible thing I’ve done all day. I found myself smiling at the family and the couple suddenly came out of the picture.
What was I thinking? If there’s a love worth honoring on Valentine’s Day, that would certainly be your parents’ love for you! Where were the lessons I’ve learned from my great professors, numerous prayer meetings and inspirational books? I was such an idiot to allow myself to be filmed by the world’s nonsense demands and stupidities. I tried to envisage myself in someone else’s point of view. I was surprised to find myself searching for any familiarity left from the unreasonable girl sitting in that gray steel bench. I wanted to bang her head in that stupid steel bench as many times as I could until I have awakened the once matured and understanding girl inside her. Fortunately this was fulfilled when I caught sight of my parents walking towards me with Mama holding a rose in her hand and two on my father’s. There were huge smiles on their faces when they reached me. And those smiles broke into laughter when my father handed over one of his roses to me, knelt down as if he was praying and joked, “’Diba luluhod pa? Ganito ba?” I couldn’t stop laughing out loud at his gag. It may seem corny but I sensed a tear about to slip from my left eye so I abruptly wiped it with my handkerchief. The moment felt so wonderful not only because it was the first time my father gave me a flower but also because in that moment, I felt his love enveloping me. I don’t usually give affectionate gestures but I was so touched that I gave both my parents a kiss on the cheek. Then my cousins and little sister came to whom Papa had given his last rose. At 8:30 we met up with my brother and his girlfriend in Harbor View Restaurant.

It was indeed a happily remarkable, extraordinary and love-filled day. We had a great time at dinner which ended at 10:30 in the evening. My family had problems like every other normal families. My father might have committed the biggest mistakes in the past and I admit that I never took them lightly. But that day, my deep-rooted resentment towards him started to float up from my system as little bubbles from a cola gradually surfaces to pop. I felt an immense sadness to realize that this would be my last dinner with my father this year. These last 4 years had been very difficult for my family to cope with. But that 14th night of the Love Month, I know in my heart that my father has changed. Now whoever says Valentine’s Day is made only for lovers? I ought to commit suicide if I’ve been too blinded to realize it. Valentine’s Day is meant for everyone who not only loves but loves deeply. Nobody loves you more profoundly than your family. My Valentine’s Day may not have included romantic dates with guys. It was not the kind of day I’ve prayed for. It wasn’t even the kind of day I dream as ideal! But I would never ever trade that day for anything in the world. It was the day I figured out that my Papa came back.


Well, this would have been the end of my multifaceted Valentine story if only my best friend did not send me an SMS at exactly 11:45 in the evening. This was his message (exactly written this way, preserved in my phone’s memory forever or maybe not) “Pare, wla nman tlga ko ippakiLa2 sau knna eh. d8 tau minsan ah. Ung tau lng. Gudnyt pare koh. Swtdrims.Ü”

Hmmm… I really wonder what God has in store for my love story. 



/ingenue07

Avril and Britney Live!



Haha of course this poster is a phony! But still I am proud of it because it's the first concert poster I've ever designed! Though, I only made it as a requirement for our midterm in Desktop Lab. Originally, I wanted to create an Avril Lavigne-Green Day back to back concert poster because I'm a fan of both. But an idea about contradiction came up to me suggesting that I use two contrasting artists for my poster. And so I came up with Av and Brit! Anyway, I just want to post it here so I could show it off! Heheheh! God bless y'all!

World War 3...

Fighting.

Fighting.

Fighting.


The word seems to send sporadic twinges in my system. My head is aching. The beating of my heart is accelerating. My temper is seething. My fist are clenching. My teeth are gritting. And I'm starting to have the burning urge to shout "SHUT UP!"

This is how I feel when I hear people fighting. I find it strange too. But my entire system seems to be aggravated when people are quarrelling in front of me. I'm not talking here about small arguments. Arguments for me are mere debates; an activity for people to exercise their reasoning. It is huge fights that involve physical pain and curses that pisses me off.

Fighting is inevitable, of course. Writing this article will not make people stop fighting but I would just like to express some of my thoughts at this moment because I had just witnessed one of the worst World War 3s in my life. As usual, I served as the mediator, a role which I've always hated playing in my life especially when people I love most are on each sides. But I'm afraid I'm starting to get used to it. I have a stupid (if not noble) habit of not choosing sides (in terms of fights) even if my views match one side.

As a college student studying communication, I think the reason they are fighting is miscommunication (No, I guess even if I'm not a Communication Arts' student I would have concluded the same). They recklessly throw words at each other without thinking! And I hate it when they seem to be insensitive of each other's feelings. How I wish they use their control! I wish they could see us trying so hard not to listen to their harsh accusations and senseless reasons! I wish I could cover my little sister's ears so I don't have to see that sad eyes staring blankly at her plate. I wish they would think first. Most of all, I wish they would stop.

Sometimes I have this wild dream to bring Ma'am Lizelle, Sir James and Ma'am Jen home so they could educate them. So they could teach them how to lower their pride. So they could learn how to communicate well without shouting. So they would know how difficult it is for us love them without hating them at times. Or maybe simply because I just want them to know.

Detaching Myself from the Pain...

Some people hurt us for no reason.

Sometimes I merely want to reckon,

That they are not aware of the pains

They brought in my life's unlocking chains.


Somebody broke my wavering hope

To grip on to another good rope.

A rope to lift me up from love's thorns

and its lashing promises of scorn.


These two stanzas suck. I haven't written good rhymes since that last poem I wrote about my unexpected encounter with an X. Hmm... That was 5 months ago... Anyway, I have no plans of continuing this poem because I don't feel like reminiscing the enormous pain I've felt. Instead, I'm writing in this blog to detach myself from the emotion. Now breathe... There you go.. Let it out... Say it out loud... %#@*&@#%$%#@&%$#@!!! Hahaha just kidding!

I got hurt again while in the process of reviving the once blooming and sparkling area of my least priority in life, my lovelife. Yes, it is my least priority believe it or not. I once mentioned in my Autobiographical Essay that I felt like I'm prone to pain. Pain, generally speaking as of physically and emotionally. One of my best friends asked me in puzzlement,
" 'Ayan ka na naman, hindi ka ba nagsasawa?"
I gave out a short chuckle and replied, "Obvious ba, hinde? Tsaka hindi naman talaga ako agad masasaktan dito. Hindi ako ganun ka-involve sa kanya. Ligaw lang naman." The day these words came out from my lips was one of the most unbelievable and remarkable days of my life.

Unfortunately, January 12, 2006 had to come, one SMS from him brought me the familiar sense of dejavu. My circulatory organ that regulates the blood through my veins was beginning to feel heavy again as if a hundred cc of blood had just pour forth it. He left as quick as he had come. Explained his reason to let go as briefly as he had pleaded me for the chance to hold on. Before all of this happened, he was a friend. Now, I have no idea how we would treat each other the next time we meet in Adamson.

Heartache has always been welcome in my life as a writer. I must say it is taking my generosity for granted. I'm not complaining. I know I need these. I write better when I'm hurt. I become more determined and focused when someone makes me cry. Not that I cry easily (in movies, yes) but in real life I make it certain that I cry less in front of people and cry more inside my room or in my writings. It's strange but I just can't seem to thoroughly open myself vocally. I admit I'm not a very vocal person. But I'm not the kind of person who always keep things to myself. Well if not everything, most of the things I have in mind are written in various types of papers, journals and of course the internet. I'm just waiting for somebody who will not just read it but will understand it as well.

Most important of all, I know God is reading my thoughts even before I write it so I don't get much too emotional about things. I know all along that He will wash away the pain that the wounds had brought.