In June 2006, I received a chilling text message from my little sister. 3 days before her birthday I found my 12 year old sister in her pajamas at 11 PM by a Total gas station on Vito Cruz crying. Around her were her stuffed toys, bedroom slippers and clothes stuffed into plastic bags.
My mother had run out of brown boxes.
It’s been 3 years since I last said anything to her. I have seen her, I have even received her calls and text messages (The angry ones and the ones that begged me to forgive her) and yet I have yet so share a single word with her.
Since then I haven’t allowed myself to become too close to anyone. Call it what you want. Fear of being hurt, fear of commitment, whatever. But for me, it’s like my security blanket. If people don’t get close enough, they won’t ever get to hurt you. That’s that.
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