any better than this

(theory blouse, f21 shorts, amrita singh necklace, jessica simpson platforms)

"you could be happy, and i won't know. you could be happy, i hope you are. you made me happier than i'd been by far."

- snow patrol

when i first arrived in the states i was beyond doubtful and terrified. i was scared to meet new people, being in a new territory, and throwing out a different side of me. letting myself open and hoping that the people here would accept me just as well was tough to say the least. i was frightened by the thought of replacing the friends i had known for a decade or more with new ones, but at the same time relieved to find them impossible to replace. i would cry over facebook photos that include everybody else but me and feel like i missed out on a lot of hangouts. after a while, however, everything feels better and before i knew it, i've already been in love with the city and the friends, and soon after that everyone from high school graduated. suddenly here we are, already walking on our separate ways.

from time to time i would wax nostalgic with a part of me that longs to remain in front of the rows of gray- blue lockers, skip another boring period to sit in the canteen, waste more time chatting in corridors, and be a mere footstep away from them all. i long for another school event, another free period spent running around the classroom, another graduation, another farewell, another prom, another anything at all. and truth be told, whenever i look back on my past, i always feel sad, though not trapped, because every vivid memory i shared with them was just so perfect, although part of why it was so perfect is because i know, and we all know... we could never, ever, go back.

token of memory

(unbranded outerwear, ark& co draped skirt, moselle bracelet, wolford tights, rotelli shoes)

dear mom, i didn't get the first rank, but i really wanted that walkman. i worked really hard to get it, and even though i don't deserve it, i felt that it has to be mine. it broke my heart a little when you gave me an older model and gave lil' sis the latest one without much effort on her part. i knew i was the one to set up the rule, but i want to constantly live up to my words. i want to constantly prove to you that i could and gladly would work hard to achieve whatever i want in life. it broke my heart a lot when you told me that you would've given it to me anyway if i would just ask. and you knew that the ten year old me had too much pride to admit my defeat.

dear mom, it was raining like crazy and we had been walking for hours. you were still unconvinced about getting that bag you saw earlier that day, and i told you repeatedly to either get it or get yourself over it. i kept complaining because i was so tired, it was dark, you were forever indecisive, and the store was about to close. in the end we went out of ysl that one night in rome with the first bag that you ever handed down to me.

dear mom, yesterday somebody broke my car window. that person took nothing else but the bag, which was empty. i apologized to you repeatedly, and it broke my heart a little when you didn't get angry. it broke my heart a lot when i was the only one that's mad at myself and at the situation. you kept on asking me if i was okay, and truth is, i was not. but you knew that i still have too much pride in me to admit that too.

dear mom, i couldn't shed the thoughts of always making you worry and having you invest so much money on me off my mind. i don't know if i was purely unlucky or if God's trying to teach me something. but this incident didn't make me go easier on myself. instead it taught me to push myself even harder, and to let Him see that i am worthy to be your daughter. since i still have a little bit of pride in me, i promised myself to take you to that ysl store in rome when it rains someday, and make sure that you don't open your wallet and walk empty- handed from the store. the incident opened my eyes to something that the ten years old me failed to see; that you love me despite of anything, despite of everything, and that you always will. now that i think about it, my sister might receive the better walkman, and that burglar might have stolen a pretty bag, but i was the one chosen by God to be the daughter of a woman as wonderful as you are.

...and if ever that burglar's reading this:
bitch.

sweetest downfall

(elli blazer, mink pink mini dress, f21 tights, ysl palais pumps, chanel bag)

"the strength of a man isn't in the weight he can lift, it's in the burdens he carries. the strength of a man isn't in the deep tone of his voice, it's in the gentle words he whispers."

- unknown

i smelled my dad in my friend's car on the way to church today. turns out they wear the same perfume. alas, i spent the next twenty minutes in the car recalling ever so strangely the first time my dad had complained about his declining stamina to me. prior to that day, i've always thought that my dad was as close as it gets to a superhuman. he couldn't fly or read thoughts, but he performs magic with his hands and scissors. he often stands on his worn- out feet for long hours, aiming for perfection with people's hair as his canvas. to top that, he still managed to swim or jog every morning, follow a strict diet, and look so cool in couture. he was perfect in my naive eyes. i remained quiet because i didn't know how to respond, as listening to his complaints was the last thing on earth i thought i'd do. to this day i regret not saying something comforting to him. he must be scared of the suddenly darker future, of having to question his own capability. i wanted him to know he could lean on us a little and not pushed himself so hard. i swear it was at the tip of my tongue. instead of being upset to find out that his perfect image was nothing but an image i created myself, i was glad to finally see the real man trapped inside. while his words were what i remembered first, they weren't what i remember most, for i'll never forget seeing the face of an exhausted man who's worn out by time, admitting- perhaps for the very first time- that he's just a human afterall. i'd never be able to say this as clearly in my mother tongue, nor would he ever be able to understand, but my dear daddy, if ever you feel like you could no longer go on, i want you to know that i'll be there to take the baton from your hands and whisper to you the two words that took me forever to say: "it's okay."

hold so dear

(unbranded top, nastygal draped jacket, blaque label skirt, brian atwood shoes)

when i was younger i had this silly imagination of what i think being a grown- up would mean. it involves living as barbie and being rich enough to afford a pair of designer shoes per month. laugh as you may, but didn't we all wish that we'd known better than that? how i wish i had the power to tell my past what a stupid girl i was. i'm growing older as i'm typing this, and had somehow come up with my latest, hopefully much- improved definition of what growing up might mean. growing up, in my opinion, is very much about accepting the fact that you're gonna laugh less at and with others, frown more about life, and fake more smiles. to grow up means to not only stop believing in santa claus, but to actually become that santa claus to others, and not just on christmas. it means taking more and more burden off your parents' tired shoulders. you're going to depend less and less on people, realize that at some point it's a lonely world after all, and even though you're going to die alone, you can't live without others, because life is messed up like that. and last but not least, to grow up means realizing that none of your body parts will ever be as long as barbie's and that the whole purpose and process of growing older become meaningless if you measure your life with shoes.