Acknowledgments

To Mommy and Papa: I still have clear memories of myself writing to both of you on the back of scratch papers the first time I discovered the joy of holding a pen from the letters of apology to Mommy for being too naughty or talkative to the letters of request to Papa to stop tickling me so much at night. Its more than a decade later, but somehow writing a letter still elicits the same kind of thrill, and I owe that greatly to you. You have always been my first fans, my willing audience. You have given me an immeasurable amount of love and understanding, and I feel like the least I can do is make you proud. I hope this does just that. To my lolas and aunties, the women in my life who first wove stories into my imagination stories of history, of love, of family. Thank you for sharing with me the gift of expression through the books you have given and the tales you have shared. To my lolo, for first showing me the beauty of letters coming together to form words, as he patiently taught me the alphabet while reading the days headlines, every night in bed when I was five. To Sir Neil Garcia, for taking me as his advisee despite his incredibly busy schedule, for accepting my true colors, for genuinely looking out for me. For the the kindness and the words. I could not be more grateful, sir. To Sir Paolo Manalo, for believing in what I had in mind for my thesis, for enlightening me when I found my topic so ambitious, and for encouraging me when I thought I was making no sense. For the Pomodoro. Thank you, sir. To Sir Nonilon Queano, for never getting tired of welcoming me in his class, five times in four years. I owe my appreciation for literary criticism and my graduating on time to you. To CrEngg, my barkada: The universe couldnt have brought together a more diverse, distinct, and unique group of 30+ people, but I have found the greatest comfort in knowing that despite all our differences, we have figured each other out and loved each other nonetheless. To Ria and Regine, with whom Ive sufficiently raged and exhausted my teenage hormones with; spaz-ing over books, music, movies, and everything else in between (aka boys) would not have been as fun (and funny) if it werent for you. To Inna, for proving that friendship transcends time zones. To Karlaine, for the gift of time (ultimate break-mate!). To Drea, I dont want to wait for our lives to be over. To Cars, for teaching me how to be strong. To Trixie Elamparo, for being my constant. To my Creative Writing friends, my thesis support group: Rio, Joy, Danie, Zion, Jairia, Vyxz, Mina and Andee. I could not be more thankful to you for just being there I wouldnt have finished all this without the collective pressure from you guys. This is it, we finally did it! We can finally catch up on our sleep and social lives now. To Andrea Paloso, my partner, my rant-mate, my sister, my best friend: The chapter of my life that is Creative Writing would not have been complete without the shades of mischief and enthusiasm weve colored it with. Trust that no matter what happens and wherever we may be, I am still going to harass you with the word moist and give you the Karla face if the situation calls for it. I will never, ever stop being your clingy friend. You made fetch happen. Also, you still owe me a sundae. To the boy with the red car: You have affirmed my belief in the attraction of opposites. How lovely it is to be entangled in the poetry of your physics while you delight in the precision of my prose. For that and so much more, an infinite loop of thanks, Rainier Natividad. Sei molto bello. To everyone who has made me feel that writing is an affair worth getting caught up in.

This, a product of sleepless nights and an incalculable amount of Oreos, is my love letter to all of you.