The Monster in Her Story


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Few weeks back, she asked one of her friends why her friend would never get back with her husband since they have a kid. “Why won’t you settle back together for the sake of your child?” she asked. “It’s traumatic” was all her friend said. And she understood her. Been there, done that. Her friend said; if it was her, she would probably have stayed because she’s “too nice and churchy”.

A couple of years ago, her relationship of over five years had ended over cheating. At that time she thought that maybe her decision to leave him would change if their relationship was bonded by the sacred matrimony. She thought that maybe she could forgive all the physical and emotional abuse. But now she realized that they would probably have the same bitter ending, because she could and would never trust him again. Even if she forgives him for all the abuse, there will always be an elephant in the room, a shadow of polygamy and fears following her until all her doubts lead them to divorce.

He never asked her for forgiveness, and her guess fate ensure their paths never cross.

She told her dear friend how what happened has changed her. She is no longer the nice person trying to play the role of a Messiah in every relationship. She no longer ignores all the red flags of a villain pretending to be a prince charming. She no longer settles for anything that is less than what she deserves.

The one who broke her heart will be monster in her story. But until she figured not everyone is bound to hurt her, the monster in her story is called doubt.

“…sometimes Love brings you flowers, then it builds you coffins, and far too often we fall to our demise.”


11 PM


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5 AM, I was at the parking lot praying as I start my brand new car. The built-in GPS said it would only take me 20 mins to reach my destination. I knew it’s too early, but it was my first time to drive alone and I was driving my first car. I was not too confident about myself driving so I gave myself an extra hour as factor of ignorance. 15 mins later, I was at a remote construction site; lost. I called my most reliable friend who apparently doesn’t take calls at ungodly hour. I braced myself and continued driving relying on my GPS and my unbelievably poor sense of direction.

I arrived at my destination 2 hours after an involuntary scenic tour around the city; stress plastered all over my face…

Two years forward, my cars’ mileage is over 30,000km. The stress I felt during those times was not entirely a big deal. I braved my way to cross-country driving, even up to the most remote part of the northern Canada.

11 PM; under the bridge; my boyfriend and I were sitting at the back of his car. The thoughts of me stressed out on driving flashed back as I try to break up with him. I realized that just like my first time driving; given the time; everything will eventually be okay. My feelings at this moment would no longer be valid. In two years or so, I will again look back to now and smile at how better I’ve become as a person. With the hard-learned lessons tucked underneath my bruised heart, I move-on in time…


But Only…


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my first painting

“If I were a painter
I would paint my reverie
If that’s the only way for you to be with me..”

Vincent van Gogh once said that “there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people”. I believe him.

I remember the last time we talked about us. Why letting you go is the most logical decision to make. You know that I love you so much that I’m willing to break every part that remains in me just to ease your burden and make you happy. It may not be fair, but we both know it is right.

“…We’d be there together
Just like we used to be
Underneath the swirling skies for all to see..”

Maybe in a different place and time our hearts would meet again; at a place where everything seems at peace, and at a time when everything lines perfectly together. Where all we could think about is just you and me; when all that matters is us.

An abstract painting where all the emotions we’re hardly able to contain were spilled. An impressionism seething with life; a magical depiction of what could be our love.

“…And I’m dreaming of a place
Where I could see your face
And I think my brush would take me there
But only…”

To the place I first met your gaze I’ll leave my broken heart. I’ll cherish the happy thoughts and leave all the heartaches behind. I’ll move on, I will never look back, and I promise I’ll be vigilant with this decision.

“…If I were a painter
And could paint a memory
I’d climb inside the swirling skies to be with you.”



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I noticed that every time I would tell my boss that I’ll be out of the country over a particular weekend, he would put me on a 60hr workweek as though I’m about to resign from work. At the current state of the Oil and Gas economy, I could never complain about my workload. I’m a proton. To me, it’s just a matter of learning to bend and try not to absorb all the stress. Try to find a work-life balance. As the saying goes “work hard, play harder”, so here’s a picture summary of my stress relievers:



My Violin


Painting (My first painting)




Fusion Yoga


Nature Hike

Spring/Summer 2016 : a Photo Diary


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It’s spring again! Yey! Hello sun! 😍😍😍

I made my annual trip to the Philippines last April (through May). Went back to Canada, worked for a week, and flew to US for a week-long roaming. Jetlag is for amateurs! Here’s a photo diary of my most recent travels:

Sunset by the beach (Nasugbu, Batangas)

Me and my cousins beaching together (pun intended. Fortune Island)

Paradise is just an hour drive from home (Nasugbu, Batangas)

Never sleep, Manhattan

Washington, DC

Smithsonian Museum, Washington, DC

Lincoln gave me the goosebumps. One of the best places I’ve been to. (Lincoln Memorial Monument, Washington, DC)

Visiting JFK’s resting place (Arlington National Cemetery, Virginia)

Harbour tour at Baltimore, Maryland

Run Forest! Run! (Baltimore, Maryland)

Dropped by Philly to try these cheese steaks (Philadelpia, Pensylvania)

Atlantic City Boardwalk (New Jersey)

One Twin Tower (New York City)

Radio City (New York)

Walk in Brooklyn Bridge

Good eats (New York)

Morning stroll in South Central Park (New York)

Broadway musical at Times Square (New York)

My cousins’ happy ever after (New Jersey)

Guitar Man


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guitar man, playing sweetly with his soft fingertips;

this adamant girl, you managed to sweep her off her feet.

two glasses of wine, then she was brave enough to open her door,

long conversations ’til she tore down her much guarded wall.

guitar man, please never play and fool around;

never let her tear create a puddle on the ground.

promise her that you’ll never go astray,

even when all pretty girls lined up and come your way.

guitar man, she now holds you close to her dear heart;

With so much joy and happiness – sorrows go and depart;

She deeply prays you’ll be together and would never be apart;

To have and to hold, the vow to keep and your lives as one would start.

Spring 2016


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“so plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to give you flowers.”

I planted some tulips late last summer so that I have something to look forward to, come spring.

Last year was crazy busy. I expanded my comfort zone and tired myself to death. I didn’t die though. I became happier.

 The past experiences had taught me to look after myself and love myself more. I became more independent. I learned to find happiness from within myself, but it doesn’t mean that I am cold. I just realized that I don’t need any drama in my life. Sure I could lend an ear and offer advice to those in pain, but it doesn’t mean that I have to absorb them. I learned to be more patient and understanding. That the more you give, the more you receive.

Travelling became addictive, I’m always itching to go out and explore nature.

I fixed my room, re-painted it and did all the interiors.

I fed the artist in me; I drew, painted, created wall-arts, and handed them to my excited friends.

I did yoga, and yes meditating truly helps. It clears your mind and cleanses your soul.

I made goals and tried to fulfill each one of them.

I fell in and out of love without the whole world knowing.

And I planted my favorite flowers.




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You hate me. You have every right to hate me.You will tell stories about me as though I’m a monster. You wish our paths will never cross. You wish you never knew me. I am a memory you never want to remember.

But I want to tell you something, something I might not be able to say straight to your innocent face. I love you. I never meant to hurt your feelings. I never meant to ruin your faith. And I never meant to stood you up. 

I regret everything I did. I regret the choices I made because I was afraid. I was afraid not of being in a relationship, but I was afraid of wasting my time. I don’t know the consequences of my choices, but I know I have to live up to it. I must suffer for bringing you pain. Pain that you don’t deserve. Pain because I was selfish.

I love you, and you were everything I’ve prayed for. I’m sorry.

Ikea Inspired


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I did a fixer-upper of my room at the house I moved in last August. The room was originally painted purple with kid-art wallpaper as it was owned by a 9 yr old girl.

I used my old red Brimmes 3-drawer chest as an inspiration to the whole design. 


Re-painted the entire room including the walk-in closet.  


It took me and my close friend 50hrs to fix everything, including the walk-in closet, cable routing and all. Spot all the Ikea! 

Plus Ribba frames for some of the arts I did; all hanged at the hallway leading to my room.    

The Husband, the Wife and the Mistress


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One friend admitted to me that she’s had a relationship with a married man. “This girl must be watching too much TV” was the first thought that entered my mind. I was just surprised because she’s smart and beautiful and I never thought it would even ever cross her weird mind. “So why’d you end it?” I asked of her. I didn’t have to hear her answer, I know what she’s going to say… it’s not worth it or it’s a waste of time.

I’ve read a couple of articles, watched a couple of movies and series about bigamy, the other woman, cheating and divorce. It seems to me that the one who got away is the bravest, yet still the most vulnerable. She may be the smartest, but she’s emotionally soft.

Most people would think that it’s always the other woman who’s getting less of the bargain, but it’s not actually the case. The other woman gets the better deal because she’s the one who has the freedom to find someone else. The cheating husband on the other hand could opt to stay in his marriage mainly because he doesn’t want to go through all the hassle of separation, legally. I have to exclude love as a reason for staying, for a husband who truly loves his wife will never dare to cause her pain. As for the wife, I can only imagine the emotional torture it will give her knowing her husband stayed not because of reconciliation but only because of comfort and practicality. If the husband cheats twice, it becomes a hobby. And the picture of the other women will haunt her for the entirety of her marriage.

I’m not siding on the other woman here; in fact, my friends confession made me see both sides of the coin. The mere mention of the word marriage now frightens my wits. Because I never and I still don’t believe in divorce, I believe that once you make that sacred vow; that sacred promise; you must keep it. In sickness (cheating) and in health, until death do you part. And the question I have for myself is “will I be able to handle all the pain?”, “will I be able to bar all major catastrophes just to save my marriage?” All I know now is that there are many ways to skin a cat, even though I haven’t even come up with one.

I understand those who chose to part ways; those who chose to escape chaos, those who’ve said enough is enough. I understand those who cheated; those who fell on the trap and did what is right even though it’s not fair. I understand those who chose to forgive; those who endured and will endure so much pain, those who chose to stay for whatever it’s worth.

Happiness is a choice, although often it might seem otherwise. I hope reality never find its reason to teach me a lesson about polygamy in marriage.