Grip

There is a girl who does not know how to give up her things easily.

At three years old, she cried whenever her mother would buy her new dresses. "What are these for? I still have my nice dresses at home. I don't need new ones." Oh, imagine the mixed emotions of her mother who wanted to dress up her living doll.

At six years old, her writing book's pages had many holes in them because she wanted her pencil strokes to be perfect. She would erase for countless times until the paper got too thin to write on. "I just can't get these curves and lines right. They should all look the same." Sometimes the pages got too soft because she shed tears of frustration on them. Oh, and don't even get started on the proper use of greater than, less than, and equal signs; she even considered quitting school because of those.

At nine years old, she began noticing her first crush liking her other friend. See, this crush had been her crush since kindergarten, but he did not know about it at all. "But I still like him. He's shorter than me and all that but boys grow taller than girls when they hit puberty, right?" Little did she know that puberty would not really do any favor for her; he would forever be shorter than her. She continued liking him anyway until the feeling went away eventually.

At twelve years old, she bit her nails a lot. She was aware of how weird it made her look when she bit her nails and how short her nails looked after her biting but she did it nonetheless. When asked about her reasons for such a nasty habit, she would say; "I don't like seeing my nails long. I'm bored." Sometimes she would bite her nails when she was anxious or insecure. She would have the habit for five more years down the line.

At fifteen years old, she fell in love for the first time with someone whom she thought she never had the chance with. It was not like how she imagined her first love to be but she found it so beautiful that she could not get enough of it. "I love you. I want you. I need you." All the love songs were suddenly about them. Sweeping declarations of love went out of her mouth like stray bullets from a gun shot on new year's eve. The fireworks were there in every touch and kiss. She thought it would never end. She believed in a happy ever after. Mind, that this is a story of a girl who does not know how to give up her things easily.

At eighteen years old, their relationship started to grow sour. The fights grew longer, the loving got shorter. "I'm not giving up on us. Let us give it one more try." But what did it mean anyway? It meant staying for what worth the relationship still had. It meant lying awake at night to convince herself that all the pain was worth it. It meant gaining strength from love for a relationship on life support. In the end, it meant letting go - her final great act of love.

At twenty-one years old, she still does not know how to give up her things easily. This has been both the bane and the boon of her existence but right now, she is learning to master it. Aside from walls around her, she also has a filtration system to take out the big rocks of bullshit and end up with the fine grains worth keeping.

There is a girl who does not know how to give up her things easily... she does not know how not to do it.