Last night I came home and noticed the blast in city lights. All excitement and anticipation of the upcoming holiday.
Well, you see, it’s different on my end. My Decembers have been difficult for the last eleven years. In my mind, each time I recall the last eleven Decembers, I see a montage of interminable longing and grief and forced geniality. And the struggle of staying alive in a world without you in it.
I don’t remember much about December 2009. It was about the death of your bestest best friend. I learned she asked if I would be there, in her final hours, and I did not make it.
It is a baggage I have been and will be carrying in my entire lifetime. Before that I remember the years of hate and contempt my clan threw towards her. Their excellent efforts to hide me, control me, never to be seen by her. The magnitude of pain they never knew. The last seven years helped me accumulate a burning ball of hatred that last Saturday I wielded into a weapon and used to fundamentally cast them out of my life.
This made me an instant orphan and island. No regrets so far.
December 2010 was spent cooking a corn beef in a rice cooker in an apartment in Sta. Mesa. I moved out of our place. I can no longer bear the toxicity and the entitlement that our kins possess: that they own you and come hell or high water, they are always right and you are always wrong.
I can’t remember what happened in Decembers 2011, 2012, & 2013. There is nothing in the drawers of my recollection of these days but a dark, empty foyer.
December 2014 I was in Baguio with Nicholas. This December was easy, I admit.
December 2015 I was sleeping in LB after munching some chicken. Before the month ends, a friend of mine invited me to come over. I was having an allergic outbreak. She had a bottle of beer; I had a mug of coffee.
Last night I came home and noticed the blast in city lights. I am unsure how to spend the next December. As I’ve said, I am now an orphan and an island because I have disowned every blood relative from my life last Saturday..