Author: Joanne Grace U. Toledo (Billing Specialist)

 

As a girl, I had always dreamt of being pampered, taken good care off and being treated like a princess. But at my age, I cannot recall being treated that way at all.

I don’t know if that was a selfish dream for me to have. After all, that was all I ever wanted.

 

I am true and honest to what I am feeling. No matter how risky things may seem to be. I do not actually care if I fail and be hurt taking that risk, rather than to regret for not trying at all.

I guess it is easier to accept things that way. But with that attitude that I have, a lot see me as someone who is boastful or a threat or even a bitch for that matter.

Well, people may think and judge me for what they think I am, as long as I know that I am not hurting anybody then I guess it is fine.  In the first place, I was raised to be true to my feelings and not to mind what others think.

 

Behind my strong personality is a stronger but sweet man. And I call him “dad”.

It is odd for a girl like me to be a lot closer to him compared to my mom. Well, I guess “electra and oedipus complex” would explain it. And I am not ashamed to tell the world that we are a lot closer.

A few years ago, the most memorable scene of our relationship took place. That day, almost all my dreams were shattered–I was completely broken.

I went home from a six hours travel to fix things that I had taken cared of for seven long years.

No matter how hard I tried, I failed  to fix what was broken. And I was thinking, how should I start things again?

 

At home he was there in the living room, sitting on his couch and watching his favorite NBA game. I opened the door and went to my room right away.

I didn’t kiss his hand like what I normally do. I knew that at the back of his mind, he knows I was down and something was wrong.

Morning came and I didn’t get out of bed the normal time I usually get up. The door opened and someone peeped in. I completely knew it was him so I spoke, “bakit?”

He came near and sat at the edge of the bed. I began to cry and hugged him tight.

No words were spoken for like about 10 minutes until I could not breathe anymore. I had felt the calmness when I felt not his embrace but the warmth of his touch and when he kissed my forehead.

I was sure that he understood what I was going through. After all, I am the flesh of his flesh and the blood of his blood. Silence would mean a lot from a girl and I was confident that he knew what it was.

 

Heroes are born and I have mine. If given a chance to live again and choose a father other than him, I guess I would bargain my very own life to always have him to hold my hand and be my dad.

God is really clever that He created him because he knows that I am fragile and I need him as my protector.  Until I breathe the last molecule of oxygen, I would be grateful for this chance that I have with him.

At the end of the day, it felt like I was a normal person again and I was hoping that there’ll be rainbow after the rain. And I am confident enough now that there is at least one man in the world who would never dare to hurt me—physically and emotionally and he is my DAD!