Day 7779

A year after, I find myself still debating (I’ve probably used this phrase on every last-day-of-the-year entry) on whether or not I should write a recap of my year and then of course, I still hit the “new post” icon and start harassing the delete key as I try to come up with the right words.

January taught me how much pain I could bear, how many times I could shatter. It taught me pride won’t get a person anywhere. It taught me to chase what matters. It taught me not to give up. January taught me what sisterhood, brotherhood, and friendship really meant. Most importantly, it taught me that acceptance isn’t as easy as it seems — that acceptance is a struggle. And that perhaps, until now, I haven’t fully accepted things….

I learned to live with discomfort, to forgive, to give chances, and to accept some things you no longer have control of. I understood what role I had. And that running away from my problems won’t do me any good. It just tires the hell out of me.

(Taken from Day 7414)

That was me, 365 days ago. I learned about acceptance. I learned about it, not that I did get to really accept things. I learned about a lot of things, especially on loving someone else. I learned about being reckless and paying the price. I learned how to embrace pain.

This year, though, I learned how to stand up after embracing pain. I learned that pain isn’t so scary after all. We recover. We heal. What doesn’t kill us definitely makes us stronger (and wiser).

I can no longer recall how I started this year. After all, I chose to forget. I chose to leave my memories behind, those that broke me, those that made me. Everything. I had to leave some people, and welcome others back. It doesn’t matter if you start and end it with the same company. What matters is giving your everything to people you believe are worth it. If it ends up that they aren’t, don’t regret. Peace comes from giving and doing everything you could regardless of the result.

I learned how short a year is, and how long it could be. You could be stuck for one whole year, unable to figure out which roads to take. But within a year, you could also sail. You can burn yourself from all the upsets and rise from the ashes, stronger and more alive. Within a year, you could learn a lot about other people. You can build bridges, walls, homes. You can take control. You can definitely still chase what matters. However, within a year, I hope that you will also find out that though it’s nice to chase, it’s sometimes smarter and braver to know when to quit. There’s more beauty in letting go. You can’t expect a masterpiece if you’re too afraid to let loose, to add more colors, to wipe out some when the paint hasn’t dried yet. More so, you can’t say it’s a masterpiece not unless you find out when to stop painting.

If you stay within the borders, you will never learn. So within a year, you should go out.

Live.

This year I learned that the world doesn’t stop even if you badly wish it would. It doesn’t stop for you to be able to cry. Instead of crying when the sun’s at its brightest, dry your tears. Instead of drowning yourself in misery when it’s flooding, dance in the rain. You still have to move forward even if you can’t move on or else you’ll miss out.

It’s the 7779th day of my existence and today, I celebrate that I am alive — that I have a new year ahead, for me to start all over, to fix what I still can, find what I’ve lost, and seek for greater beginnings.

Carpe anno!

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