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In the next life time, when a cardiologist falls in love again with a resident.

Every rain drop on the doorstep of his house was as loud as the three quick knocks I just did on the door. My heart beat was just as loud. It felt like my chest was about to burst. My hair was slicked back, the curls I painstakingly did for three hours earlier was gone. My mascara was running down my cheeks but it had done that even before I ran under the rain.

I wasn't thinking. I knew this was not a good choice. Probably. But it was the choice I made.

Not even 10 seconds passed by. I heard footsteps and then someone was twisting the door knob from the inside.

The door opens to him standing on the hallway. He was still wearing his shoes, his hirt and slacks. He stands there with an expression I have never seen before. He looks like he's seeing a ghost. His eyes were red-rimmed, bleak and bloodshot. Maybe it was from everything he did that day. Maybe it was the endless patients lining up to his clinic. Maybe it was the 4th wedding or wake of the month he attended. Maybe it was the endless calls from the emergency room or the wards.

But seeing him standing there in the middle of his spacious house, with the chandeliers, the arched hallways and the empty rooms, the silence rendering even the rain as loud as it can be-- Watching him standing there, I thought he never looked so small--and so… alone.

He spoke first. He whispered my name, his voice full of wonder and disbelief. Then I was wrapped in so much warmth, his arms surrounded me. His smell overwhelming, the sound of his crying even more surprising.

I don't know how long we stood there. My clothes were dripping on his carpet, his clothes. The sound of his cries breaking the silence of his house. My arms were wrapped around his waist and I stood there silently, just waiting.

I've decided then and there, that that was where I belonged. I didn't belong in the local Italian restaurant wearing a black dress and heels--all made up and laughing over some joke a charming Engineer made. He was tall, handsome and more importantly--was crazy over me. He made time for me. He called everyday. He opened the door of his car for me. He was serious with me and he made it clear from the first hour.

And yet as the hours wore on, as I half listened to stories of his childhood and college days, I looked up at the sky and saw it darkening. I wondered how he was doing--if he was somewhere where the rain won't bother him. I wondered if he was thinking about me in the middle of the 6th wake he attended this year in the same way I was thinking of him in the middle of a date with a nice guy.

'Wait…are you crying?'

'What? Oh… oh no. No I'm not' I laughed, 'I'm sorry I don't know what came over me.'

'Am I boring you with my stories?'

'No. It's not that.'

I remembered I had a choice. Someone had told me before. Love is a choice. I've always made crazy decisions when it comes to love. I made career decisions from love. I can move to a different country for a boyfriend, even. What's so crazy about loving the most kind-hearted and genuine man I've ever known?

But I deserved better.

I deserved a man who will make time for me. And I looked right at the man I was on a date with. I deserved that kind of man. Funny, handsome, uncomplicated--

I stood up and apologized to that same man. I walked to my car and sat for an hour inside with my thoughts. I tried to make a pros and cons list for the decision I was about to make. But I couldn't bare to even begin it. Everything inside me was screaming to just go run to him. No matter how much reservations I have, how much cons I can think of--all I can see, all I remember is a kind-hearted man who is alone in the world. Didn't he also deserve to have someone? Did it have to be me? Probably, not necessarily.

But I wanted it to be me.

Because I fell head over heels in love with his soul. The charms, the jokes, the handsome faces they all fade away. He can be of any age at that point in time, he can come bearing different faces and his soul will remain the same. Sometimes it felt like--it felt like I was in love with an angel sent from above.

"I’m sorry." He finally spoke, still hugging me. I waited. "You're right. You do deserve better."

Then he breaks us apart so he can lift my face and look at me. "But for once in my life, I want to be selfish. I want you in my life. I need you but I don't love you because I need you. I need you because I love you."

I smiled warmly at him with tears brimming me again in my eyes. "You are the best decision I've ever made."

He closes the door behind us. His cellphone rings down the hallway but he barely glances back, his eyes just on me. The rain is muffled.

And all I hear is his voice, his breathing, all I feel is his warmth.

#text #stories #love story

Someday, I won't forget to say I have never met someone who so adamantly refuses to leave me alone.

And by that I mean you refused to live in a world where I'm lonely. And since I met you, I have never felt alone. I always know I have you. I can rely on you. I can talk to you. I can reach you. I can call you and when I need you--you will come running wherever I may be. When I'm hungry, you'll get me food. When I'm sad you'll look for whoever made me cry.

And even when I say I'm okay, I can be lonely again. I can do it all over again. The truth is, lonely isn't something I'm familiar with me anymore. I find myself wondering, who will listen to my senseless chatter? Who will I confide all my useless thoughts? Who will defend me when no one thinks about how I feel? Lonely will be different after you. Lonely will be unbearable after knowing what it's like to finally have someone.

I hope there's no after you. I hope it's you. I hope God blesses our relationship everyday. I wish to grow with you, learn life with you, worship God with you.

Pandemic Blues and Silver Linings -- 3 years later

A realization during my last few months as an intern during the pandemic:

I woke up the past few days with a light feeling in my chest. Instead of panicking about my future upon the realization that I’ve been an online medical student for almost a year--I tried to make a checklist in my head of all the good that has happened in the past year.

I came into this realization, really, while I was doing my usual 20-minute workout. Ever since my running class back in college--when I had to wake up at 5am to complete my required kilometers for the semesters (it’s a thing!)--I’ve developed a craving for high intensity physical activity. I’m not kidding. Every chance I get, when I was in the 1st few years of med school, I tried to run at our community park. Sadly, that opportunity isn’t that frequent. I was not a good cook and I got a credit card. So sadly, I also spent a lot of time just eating take-out, unhealthy food. Long story short, I got fat. Way beyond the normal BMI for an Asian. I didn’t like it. I felt as bad as I looked.

But for the past year, my exercise routine had been more stable. I’m not gonna lie okay---it’s every single day. And. I. Love. It. I don’t think this is exercise addiction because I’m having so much fun? Maybe it’s because I’m vibing to Twice and BTS workout videos on youtube but I find myself feeling good after each session. I lost weight too! And got some abs (no kidding either). I’m now in the normal BMI range for an Asian.

The funniest part for me--in this past year--is how I learned how to cook good food. And no, I don’t just mean frying canned goods and pairing it with rice. I mean, legitimate, healthy food. Like green leafy vegetables. I mean sinigang, adobo, bulanglang--that kind of thing. I mean all sorts of pasta dishes. Cooking became some sort of solace. When I want to relax, that’s what I do--cook. The more complex, the better for my peace of mind. That part is laughable because I used to hate cooking. My brother has tried some of my cooking and he liked some of them. Yes, just...some. He has particular tastes. My dad has tried cookies I baked and he loved them as well. I can say then, with utmost confidence, I am no longer insecure about this aspect of myself. I’m no chef but I can cook steak. I can make a good pasta dish. And this all came about because I have no choice but to cook, being stuck in a house in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a pandemic.

Which brings me to that next good thing: the house in the middle of nowhere. During my clerkship, I found myself travelling to places, renting rooms or Air BnBs just to escape from the noise of the city. I can’t exactly say home is an escape because there are so many people coming and going in our house in Lipa. I wanted to be in a place where there’s true quiet. Like, I’m literally the only person in that house. It seems like a selfish wish. But it came true so effortlessly when the pandemic came. My brothers have a house in Calamba that they stay for their face-to-face classes. Since they’ve been online, they preferred to stay at our house in Lipa. I have no proper “study area” in our house in Lipa. And most of the time when I’m in my online class, people are talking over me and that was distracting. It was my parents who proposed I used the house in Calamba first. It was perfect. The internet was fast. I have a huge kitchen all to myself. The grocery store is just a few blocks away. There’s a view of Mt. Makiling over my study area. There are no ambulance, police siren or firetruck noises like the ones I got used to hearing in the city. This place is perfect for an online class. I don’t feel the desire to book an Air BnB or anything like that anymore.

Which brings me to my next point: I wanted to escape the ugly side of the hospital life multiple times. The anxiety interactions with my seniors gave me. The pressure to perform well every single time. The shame that came with not knowing everything I was supposed to know. Maybe God saw parts of myself that was dying and he wanted to save it.

And saved, he did.

Now it’s the year 2024. 3 years since the pandemic started. I’m now a second year Medical Resident.

I come back to this post in another era of blues, knowing I have seen what silver linings looked like. I know this with confidence. Things won’t always make sense in the beginning--it might all seem like a disaster at first. But God’s plans are infinitely superior than our plans. He sees everything. I thank God for the year of 2020-2021. I thank Him for all the breakthroughs, the unexpected blessings and the unexpected rest he gave me. With this, I can renew my strength and face another day. I know God’s plans will always be superior than my own. I know he will give me the rest I need -- when I need it the most.

what-iz-life

The older you get, the more you choose calm over chaos and distance over disrespect. Drama becomes intolerable to you, and your peace becomes your highest priority. You start surrounding yourself with people who are good for your mental health, heart, and soul.

Lord what if I don't want to be a doctor anymore?

Nothing sparks joy.

Lately I feel like a disappointment to myself. I used to be proud of myself. I feel like a shadow of myself. It's so hard to compete with who we used to be--the better versions of ourselves. I'm scared of being a senior--of being the one person someone will look for help to and not know what to do. Of being the one holding that ET and not knowing how to secure an airway. Of not knowing when to request a troponin or not. Of starting antibiotics when I shouldn't have...requesting the wrong imaging, relaying the wrong xray, calling at the wrong time. All that stuff. I'm scared of not being enough. I had so many expectations for myself before I started residency-- to get published, to get good scores in the exams -- and none of those things have happened yet. I feel so listless and desperate and pathetic.

I feel like the only thing I have, the only thing I can do is endure. If I need to be at the hospital until late at night, then I will. If I need to do duty-from cycles repeatedly, then okay. I won't complain, I won't shout, I won't get angry anymore. I don't have the right to do any of those things anymore. I don't have the right to do those at all. I'l treat everyone with kindness because I'm no better than anyone and I feel that through and through. I treat people with kindness because I'm no one important, no one higher than anyone. If this is the lesson in this journey, then I am learning it thoroughly.

I just wish I don't have to walk with a cloud above my head every day. I just wish I'll feel like I'm enough. I just wish I can get through each day a bit easier than the day before.

I just wish I can become a good doctor.

Maybe that's why sometimes I feel like it's okay if I don't have to be a doctor anymore.

Then I won't have to expect so much from myself. Maybe my anxiety will finally be at rest. Maybe I won't fall into a depression when I realize I can't be the person I want to be. Maybe then I'll find peace.

i still believe there's a different definition of love; and nothing that happens now can change the romantic that dreamt of that for years.

and if i spend my whole life roaming this world without ever finding it, i hope i'm luckier in my next life.

I asked her how married life was like

Bright eyes, glowing, big smile she says "It's bliss. My husband is so kind." And I knew exactly what she meant by that.

And I couldn't lie to myself. I felt so envious. I felt so jealous. I envied that peace, that security and calm in her voice when she said that. And I could see it too in them. I wondered if I would ever feel that.

Maybe jealous is the wrong word. She deserves to have someone like that. She has always been God's favorite. She deserves a lifetime of bliss and peace.

Maybe I'm not really God's favorite.

But even this petty realization won't deter me from loving God. And at the end of the day, I will still pray for his will to be done.

apologies

I'm sorry I'm selfish and impatient. I'm sorry I make people feel indispensable. I'm sorry I only care about what I feel. I'm sorry I took so much time and effort.

But most of all,

I owe my heart an apology too: I'm sorry you started hoping again.

Some things in this world are just not for you.

And it's okay.

And after the fire came a gentle whisper.

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

“What are you doing here, Hazel?”

normal

I have the awful habit of burying myself in guilt and self-blame, and then I have friends who will casually say, it can happen to anyone-- it's not because of your work, it's not because of you or your circumstances-- it's part of being an adult.

And just like that the torture of thinking about the same problem over and over again is gone. The seemingly endless do or not do I'm doomed dillemma is over.

I feel like being a doctor is an excuse for everything but thank you God for friends that tell me I'm just like them and it's okay. It doesn't matter.

It will be okay.

Thank you God for people that make me feel normal.

fatigue. / (fəˈtiːɡ) / noun.

It feels like the 4:30am alarm every other 2 days. The most comfortable place in the world is suddenly this thin mattress in a hospital call room. And then even if I manage to gather the strength to put on my shoes, walk to the office and check laboratory results, I know my day is not yet over.

And it feels like almost hitting all sorts of vehicles for the past few weeks. It feels like the wheels are in the gutter again. I made a wrong turn again. It feels like closing my eyes for 3 seconds again just for a few moments of silence.

But there's nothing remotely chaotic about life recently. Life has hit a steady hum, like radio background music in a quiet old town. But my body is telling me to pause. My body is telling me things I refuse to listen to.

It's not just you--it's not you just...you.

Because I see it in everyone else's face.

I understand the anger, the frustration, the outbursts. It all comes back to that.

So I wake up anyway at 4:30am every 2 days. I wake up at 5:30am everyday. I wake up anyway, iron my clothes, pray, like my driving, no untoward burns occur this time.

So everyday, I wake up early, pray I don't hit anything, pray I don't hurt anyone, pray I don't make a mistake -- pray for the bare minimum of every single action.

And then,

then I try not to cry.

Because sleep doesn't feel like rest anymore.

It doesn't make my body not want it any less anyway.

But in Philippians 4:13, Paul said “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” And I remember how one of the most beautiful and inspiring books in the Bible -- the Ephesians -- was written while the writer was in prison.

I remember this and I wake up anyway. I go to work anyway, thinking -- the most beautiful things are born of the most difficult situations.

I hope a flower blooms in what feels a desolate grave. I hope I can inspire someone someday with the words I kept here in my heart.

I pray everyday, that the Lord sustains me.

Because my human, earthly body is lacking.

And it's okay to admit that.

ruminations

I remember when the only thing that comforted me during those four years in med school was the idea that someday we would meet again. I remember when I used to stupidly imagined my walk down the aisle. I imagined late night conversations about God with you. I imagined boring, quiet dinner dates. I imagined book store visits, coffee shop hopping and walking around our old university reminiscing our college days.

I don't know how it's possible to be so in love with the idea of someone I met many years ago but never quite forgot. I remember when I found out how you felt and your plans to pursue me. I remember how I abhorred the idea. How I felt so unsure of you all of a sudden--how I think I could do so much better than you. But it was a worldly version of myself. It was an insecure version of myself.

So I spent another year driving around the same city where we met hoping I would see you again. I wonder how silly I must have looked--longing for a boy who's probably not the same person anymore. I wonder how many times I replayed the same memories over and over again. I remember how I slowly began to realize I could never do better than you. I also knew how easily I gave you up anyway.

Because I wasn't in love with you.

I was in love with an idea of you. Of a man who brings me closer to God with every word he says. Of a man who knows the Bible like the back of his hand. Of a man who's gentle, kind and understanding--who does not easily anger and does not keep a record of wrong. I was so thirsty for a love that comes closer to the love I know from God that I was willing to live the rest of my life alone if it does not exist.

I used to think that maybe this kind of love simply did not exist for me. Maybe I did not deserve it. Maybe I can have it in another life. Hope felt like a foolish emotion. I didn't even want to give myself hope.

Recently I started hoping again. But my foolish actions and poor decisions led to one disaster after another.

And it has come full circle to the same conclusion: it exists, but I don't deserve it.

Oh but how I want it so much. I yearn for it so hopelessly I imagine it during day time. I imagine it before I sleep. I don't pray for a specifc person anymore. I pray for that love.

I pray to deserve it someday. And selfishly, I pray I get it anyway --- even if I never become deserving.

perfectquote

“Maybe I’ll see you in another life, if this one wasn’t enough.”

— Florence + the Machine

Mindless in El Nido

“Don’t think about anything. Close your eyes.”

I thought it would be like trying to find silence in day time Manila. But since I boarded the plane, it felt effortless. As if my subconscious was so tired of running through thousands of thoughts a day—it sensed the change in altitude, the hundreds of miles away from everything, the soothing sounds of the waves crashing against the shores, the wind blowing salt air through my hair, the unobstructed view of the sun as it meets the line of the ocean.

It sensed everything that told me it was okay not to think about anything.

So I closed my eyes and listened to the silence in my head.

If heaven was a place, it probably looked like El Nido in some parts. Except there wouldn’t be any round trip planes waiting to return me to Earth. There wouldn’t be apps making popping sounds reminding of work.

I didn’t think about anything.

I felt rather, the calm. I felt light-weight, free and at peace. I didn’t feel any regret, hatred or bitterness towards my life back home. It was nice to consider life as a Russian yoga instructor, as a tour guide, as a van driver, as a waiter in a fancy restaurant, as a third-gen coffee shop owner. It is always refreshing to contemplate about alternative lives. But there was a sense of rightness in who I am and where I ended up. In my past life, if there was one, I was also a physician—I’m sure of it. In my next life, I would still be one. And in the one after that. And the next one after.

It was tiring to fight destiny.

I closed my eyes.

And welcomed it wholeheartedly.

The Truth

For some reason it’s always easier to say these words when it’s just me, my thoughts, the sound of silence, a dimly lit room and the blank canvas on my laptop.

The truth is, I want to love you. I want to fall in love with you.

But even if it takes a decade, even if it takes a thousand dates or kisses, or drives or favors— nothing can equal the only thing I ever wanted in a man. And I’m still waiting for that. I’m still hoping to see that. I just don’t know how or why I need to orchestrate this thing to happen myself. There’s a conflict within me every single time and sometimes I wish it would just stop.

The truth is I really, really don’t have the keys with me.

And no matter how much an alter-ego or worldly desire pushes me to open it, I just can’t.

When I was born out of a fervent prayer more than 2 decades ago, I knew. When I grew up inside the church, inside a convent, surrounded by religious leaders, friends, teachers—I knew. That tiny house in the woods was not built overnight. It was built by all those people. All those youth camps, services, all those leaders, priests, nuns, pastors, bishops and even my parents. It was a house built out of love with the purpose of protection. It wasn’t done out of spite like how I convinced myself years ago.

It was made to teach me not to want anything less than what God wants for me.

I hope someday He would give you the keys. And if He doesn’t, I hope you still find your way to Him anyway.

I hope you would spend more time learning about Him than me. I hope you love Him more than you will ever, ever love me.

And at the end of the day, the most romantic gesture God created with this in mind was the promise of an actual eternity. All the relationships we had on earth will fade away. Every single one of them will dissolve with death. Even wedding vows were made to end with death.

But his words will last forever. And there’s nothing more romantic than knowing death is just a phase and heaven is the next place.

I will never change. I have given my heart to a powerful being and I have entrusted him to take care of it. I don’t want it back with me. He can do with it what he sees fit to do with it.

And if you want it, ask Him. Not me. Stop asking me.

And I promise you, when He hands you the keys Himself, I will love you more than you can imagine possible. I will love you with no guilt, with no reservations and no hesitations. I will feel your pain a thousand fold, I will kiss your tears away. I will tell the world you are mine, I will build a home with you. I will celebrate small and big wins in life with you. I will support you in whatever you wish to do.

Because, yes. Even I know.

Even I know I’m worth it.

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