Elementary was a time of immaturity, and the inner child in you took control.

High school was a period of self-esteem, acceptance and forming relationships.

I was also no exception to the rule. Although I love solitude, I still had my own sets of friends. The only thing was, I didn’t give my one hundred percent in forming deeper relationships due to my trust issues.

Seasons come and go like the people in my life. I didn’t miss them nor did I care about them. I liked it that way – less drama.

In the province, things like computers were not yet widely used, although cell phones were widespread and common.

Computers became a daily necessity in my life when I entered college.

College life was hectic, maybe because I was crazy enough to choose Architecture as my degree course. Sometimes, I would not sleep for three days straight and only eat one time a day or even not eat at all just to finish my projects on time. It was a miracle that I had graduated alive.

Growing up being bullied by boys and seeing my maternal male cousins drinking, smoking and wasting their life non-stop. I developed a sense of loathing towards men, and if not for my father, I had long lost hope for the male species.

Besides my natural disdain for the opposite sex, I was also giving off an intimidating, reserved and aloof air, making other people afraid of even approaching me.

Even so, I still had admired a couple of men before. I was still a female by heart after all who loved beautiful things. But with the flipped of my mood, that feeling was gone and wouldn’t even blossomed into a flower before it was ruthlessly plucked out.

So I remained single even in college.

I had mostly lived in the province for almost half of my life. After I graduated from college, I moved to the big city to find work.

The first five years wasn’t easy. I was practically broke the entire time. Living independent took a lot from my wallet.

My goal, which was to buy a bigger house for my parents and live an idle life without worrying about bills became an impossible dream.

Year after year I became irritated and hot-blooded, not to mention that I was a naturally born bipolar.

I kept on thinking of marrying a rich guy to achieve my goals, but I didn’t put any effort into finding one.

I didn’t go out and party. I hated noisy and crowded places. I didn’t know how to dress fashionably, and even though I have a pretty face, it would always get ruined from the way I dressed and carried myself.

Before I knew it, I was already a more than seventy-year-old woman.

I had wasted almost half of my life at school which didn’t even taught me how to survived in this man-eat-man world while the other half spent in a stressful workplace.

I just wanted to draw and create beautiful things, but it became more complicated of the many matters to take into consideration when designing, until my passion for what I loved dried out.

When I had accumulated enough experience to warrant me a high salary, it was already too late. My family died one after the other, and all that money just went to hospital bills and medicines.

It was already too late for regrets. I was already at death’s door, at a homecare, alone and dying.

THEN I WOKE UP.