“Uhuh… I remember now your point… Correct me na… Worry nat… Leave ahead of me. I am not going to you. Yes. I have a date his name is Dave. Uhuh. Yeah… super cutie-pie. I will show you his ficture. You will envy me and be happy at the same time. Ok. Bye.”—Celso, Louie Mar Gangcuangco’s Orosa-Nakpil Malate
Bumper mong tunay, umaalog-alog.
Bulaklak mong taglay, hindi salamat dok!
Ngunit magaslaw ka, animo’y hayok.
Uhaw sa condensadang ubod nang lapot.”—Louie Mar Gangcuangco, Orosa-Nakpil Malate
Dear Manuel Angelo Rivera. It has been more than three years and a little less than four years. It has been from our third year in high school up until now. It has been one of the best. And it still does not fade. I love you, from your semi-kalbo hair to your size 9 feet. Love, Me.♥:)
I hate it because I’m turning eighteen in a few weeks and yet I still have a curfew to strictly follow. Especially when going out with my boyfriend - 6 pm, 7 pm at the latest. The only time we are allowed to go beyond that is when his ate or any other “elder” is with us.
I hate it because you look at me whenever I am surfing the net: the blogs I follow, the friends I’m connected to, and most importantly the pictures I post. You would then ask a million questions regarding each and everything you see.
I hate it when you don’t allow me to go out if I failed to tell you two or three days earlier. Impromptu lakads are a no-no; can only happen if my friends (or boyfriend, for that matter) are just staying at our house.
I hate it when you get mad and your singkit round (ironic, I know) eyes get as big as an owl’s (slightly figurative). Very annoying for me.
I hate it that I still cannot have overnights in my friends homes - except, again, if they would be the ones having an overnight at our own home.
Thank you for, in the first place, allowing me to even have a boyfriend and actually go out on dates with him. Thank you for trusting me that I can do it; that I can be responsible for whatever I do. Thank you for also letting him into the family; for treating him the way you treat me; for always joking around with us.
Thank you for not minding that I use up too much electricity on other stuff other than the school stuff. Thank you for wanting to be updated in my life; thank you for wanting to see what I post online, and the people who are part of my online life.
Thank you for making me feel that it’s always a happy day for you whenever I don’t go out on weekends and just spend those two days with you at home - talking endless about showbiz personalities while eating your favorite food butong pakwan (which I actually don’t get) and helping me in my math homeworks, like what we do waaaaay back when I was in kindergarten. And thank you for really wanting to meet my friends. The first time you see them you would instantly tell me who’s true and who just a piece of plastic; I won’t believe you at first but I won’t admit to you also that, Yes, ninety-nine percent of the time, you are right.
Thank you for being a real mom to me - that mom that I am afraid to whenever she’s mad; that mom who makes me weak in the knees whenever I think I must have done something wrong. Thank you for not just being a friend-mom but an authority-mom.
Thank you for always explaining to me the reason why you are overprotective - because it’s not me that you don’t trust but the people around me. Thank you for practically everything.
And for that, I’ve grown to love you. I’m in love with you.