When separation hurts

I received a letter from my bestfriend Fe as a comment to my post below where I mentioned her.  It was great to hear from her again but I felt a sadness come over my heart reading what she had written.

I have been in New York six years now and I still haven’t quite gotten used to doing without the things I had gotten used to in my life before I found myself where I am now.  I miss my family, I miss my friends.  I miss home.  Sometimes I feel so alone even if I now have a family of my own here.  Even with my Mom here — because it only reminds me what I will no longer have when she returns to Manila for good this time around.

I was writing Tetet privately and I told her blogging has been my therapy.  In it I get to write what I think and feel without abandon — well, almost.  There are thoughts and feelings that can just be too painful to write about sometimes, like thinking about the friends I gave up.  Family is family after all.  Whether they are here or 10,000 miles away, they are with me.  Friends, though, even if we are close as family, get lost in the distance in a different way.   That is the sadness I felt when I read what Fe wrote.

Hello mare. Yes, I’ve been quiet but that’s because I hardly have the strength to say anything these days. And, I don’t read you blog, it hurts too much. But you know that and, I know that you completely and fully understand where I’m coming from.

I try not to think of our Cafe Adriatico days anymore, in fact, I try to avoid that place. As I said, it hurts too much.

I told Offie I don’t use the make-up you gave me. It hurts too much.  I’ve blocked you off mare. For my survival. I miss you but I try not to think about you. I don’t always succeed. And when I do think about you, the distance is just freaking oppressive. It hurts too much.

But everytime I think of you, I say 1 Hail Mary for you. And 1 for me. So that it wouldn’t hurt so much. Seems that the 1 Hail Mary for me has to be increased by a thousand. While your recent visit was a wonderful advance birthday gift for me, bottomline, you still left. It’s been 4 months, forgive me, but it still hurts too much.

Offie is such a sweetheart. She told me to use the make-up you gave me or else, it’ll go stale. No, I haven’t gone that far. But, at least I’ve removed it from the box and/or lifted that sticker off the lipstick case. I have started staring at it for hours. I think that’s a good sign.

I’ve been brave mare. You’d be proud of me. I always wear the mahjong bracelet you gave me. A lady friend tried to ask it from me. I slapped her hand off my wrist. The nerve.

I love you mare. And I know you love me.

Yes, Fe, I miss you so much and I love you, too.  I wistfully look out into nowhere and wish we could just sit down together and chat like we used to.

0 thoughts on “When separation hurts

  1. Darryl

    Hi Dinna, its been over a year since I left a comment on your blog. I have enjoyed your blog and find time to visit once a year. I just came from Manila and took my 10 year old daughter. It had been 15 years since I visited there. Your trip there inspired me to take the trip. Thanks for that. Even though I was born there, I didn’t grow up there. But during my visit you realize how wonderful it is to be among your own people. There is a sense of belonging there that I can’t feel here in the States even though I’ve spent most of my life here. Fe’s note to you moved me, that is what us men will never experience the sisterhood of friends. Anyway hope all is well.
    Darryl- San Francisco


  2. Dinna

    Darryl, you don’t know how timely your visit is. I have been wondering where you’ve been because I remember you everytime I think of Paris because I know you and the family go to France and Italy yearly and I’m planning a second trip this November — and secondly because I’ve been having the usual stepmom blues and I remember how you wrote an impassioned comment on the recklessness of a teenager ages ago. I am glad I influenced the decision to take the trip home which, given the fact you don’t have that much personal history there, must have meant it was a deliberate choice. But let me write about that later.. thanks for stopping by again. Please don’t make it just a yearly ritual, though.. I’d love to hear from you more often than once a year.


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