To You (na naman),
*dahil di kita makausap nang ayos at di pa ata kita nahahanap, susulat ko na lang muna
A lot of things have been happening lately — things that, quite honestly, I wanted to talk to you about. But since there’s this nagging feeling that while I just might have been this close (yet again) to finding you, our own individual newness in terms of goals and priorities demand that we part so I probably am better off not saying anything to you because (1) you might miscontrue this as an attempt to keep you in my life which you are free to get out of at anytime you want and (2) if I tell you what’s happening now, I have a feeling that I will have this need to update you so I better nip this whole sharing-my-life-with-you thing at the bud. Whether or not this new exercise in distance would yield benefits for us both, I have no idea. I never get any ideas. Or not.
All I want to say is that while I was doing errands for a wedding earlier, I remembered you. I remembered all the reasons why I think I would never want to get married. I sincerely want to be “married” to our country, serving the people for as long as I could. I keep thinking how expensive a wedding is, and how the money could be used to help other people instead, you know? I’ve been having a lot of “instead of this party I would spend on this instead” moments. I hope you have the courage to stand by this country as much as I do. And if ever you’re not of this country, I hope you do for your country and your people the things I so constantly try to do for my own — if not more.
Whatever you’re doing right now, I hope it’s something that makes you happy. I mean, not just because it’s something you’re passionate about but because it’s something you want to sincerely do for the country. I’m not asking that you become a hard-liner. I just want you to be able to distinguish yourself from the others who only look out for themselves.
I’ve had some strong feelings for a very few people, and I would like to think that you will be able to surpass the dedication and commitment to principles that have made me respect them immensely. Or, at the very least, match them. At this point, some would probably think I’m crazy for demanding such things from you but I think you would perfectly understand.
I’m not sure if this passion I have now would last, but it’s been 5 years and so far it has only gotten stronger. I also know that I’m not the smartest person out there, and nothing excites me more than the idea that we could figure out things (or at least, try to) and learn and do more for this country than we ever thought possible. I know I cannot ask you to be with me; everyone knows you’ll probably find a girl better suited for you the moment you take a step away from me. But a country. You only get to call one country “yours.” And if I have to even ask first before you stand by her and do everything you can to help her, then this letter shouldn’t be even addressed to you at all.
I look forward to seeing you (again, if we have in fact already seen each other and we were just to shy to ask if we’re… you know). I know it’s a month before Independence Day, but I just thought that I better write this down the moment I thought of you and how much I wished you have the same feelings for our country. Until then, I am
Most sincerely yours,
Ayrie
PS. You could probably change my mind about not wanting to have a wedding. As you may know, all girls, at at least one point in their lives, have dreamed of becoming a princess. But our guests should donate to charity instead of giving us rice cookers and comforters and plates, k.
highreaching
