Love, Infinite A love letter

MANILA, Philippines – In one of her poems, Julia wrote: “Love is not finite. You don’t have a prescribed cup of love, a measurement to your affections. No! You have love that makes you ache and fills you with butterflies… You have love that is warm and constant, love expressed not in romance but idle chatter about everything and nothing.”

In a program held by The Julia Buencamino Project last year at the Philippine High School for the Arts, Shamaine and Roselyn Perez read Julia’s poem as part of a performance that also featured dancers Carissa and Candice Adea and musician Bullet Dumas.

Julia wrote: “Is it possible to love in collective? To love the group that you have come to know as family, but have not explored person by person; the people saving your life countless times with their fun, their acceptance, support, advice. Love binding you to them like glue – like how the stars love the sky. Your lover, your sister, your family. It is infinite – beautiful in the form of the curve of your lips or the squeeze of you arms. Infinite.”

Reading her journals and her final letter which she posted on Tumblr, her family discovered that Julia preferred to be called the gender neutral Lee and preferred the pronoun “they.” She identified as nonbinary, panromantic and demisexual. While these terms – labels – could sound confusing, complex and complicated, in the simplest sense, I think this just means that Julia loved all – freely and fully. Julia was love. Julia is love. Julia is infinite.

My dearest baby girl Julia,

This is very difficult to do, to write you a love letter and let the world read it. I decided to do it because maybe it can help save someone in the same situation you were in. I don’t know how exactly. Maybe it can help others gain more strength to live in this cruel world, or simply, maybe make everyone aware of a seemingly growing teenage crisis in this world. Maybe those who lost their loved ones the same way can be consoled – “for whatever purpose it may serve.”

I love you, Julia. I love you so very much. I am so sorry that I did not notice what you were going through. I am so sorry that I did not see that it had reached the point when you were already hurting yourself around three years before you died. Sorry. We read your journals and your diaries. Maybe I should have looked into them when you were alive so that I could have understood the gravity of your situation early enough. But then if you found out, our relationship would have been shattered.

I looked but I was not able to see on some occasions. I caught you banging your head on the wall repeatedly when you were around eight because you accidentally spilled water on the computer keyboard. When you were around 14, I noticed scars on your leg that looked like slashes. I asked you if you did it to yourself and you denied it. I simply accepted your explanation: that it was from rough play. Maybe I was too lazy or probably scared to investigate.

Oh dear God, how I wish I was given a second chance to take care of you and help you.

I miss you. I have beautiful memories of you. When you were just born, in the hospital room, I remember carrying you on my chest while I was seated on the chair. I remember dropping you three successive times because I kept on falling asleep. I also cannot forget our improv dances when you were between 3 and 6 years old. There was one particular occasion when we danced at a TLP Christmas program and we almost kicked the backdrop offstage from our multiple twirls! We loved to dance and move in the weirdest ways.

I remember playing your favorite Zombie game where you made me run after you and Jose. My rendition of the zombie man was based on a Chinese movie where the zombie stretched his arms forward and hopped around. That was such a tiring game! But you loved it... you and Kuya Jose.

There are a million moments. I will not ramble. I’ll just add a couple of moments: when you performed Tracy of Hairspray during the Trumpets recital, I was shouting with so much pride and joy. You owned the stage. You loved every minute, though I knew you were controlling your nerves. I knew then that you could be a great actress. I was also very proud when I saw you in a scene of Oh My G!

OK, another one: when you read and interpreted that short story at PETA. I am so proud to have a beautiful, talented, funny, sensitive and intelligent daughter. I wish I told you this every single day.

Now that you’ve left us, I get to read many of your poems, essays and short stories. I only realize now what a wonderful writer you are for your age. And only now do I realize through your works how difficult it was for you to live, battling your innermost thoughts, those voices that you mentioned.

You loved all things small and cute. You loved animals; Kamuning is still alive by the way. Remember the kitten you hid from us for a while because you wanted to keep and raise it? You enjoyed going to cat cafés and dog cafés. You loved petting all these cute living things. Spunky is turning 18 this year.

My baby Julia, you must have suffered so much because of your sadness, your depression. You kept it from us. You’re such a great actress that you managed to keep it from many of your friends and loved ones. Some say you were weak. Mommy’s right, you WEREN’T. You managed to keep your illness a secret and you were bearing it alone for such a long time! I’m so sorry I didn’t see. Maybe I can make up by helping others like you.

Our lives are no longer the same because of what happened. Mommy and I, all your siblings struggle everyday, but with God’s help, Julia, we will fight to make the rest of our lives more meaningful. 

We who have been left behind have to really believe that God is there with us when we are crying, when we are doubting ourselves, that we will see Him when we die, and if we have done good, we may live in eternal happiness with Him forever. I do not doubt that you will be there with us because, my dear Bebang, you were such a good, loving soul when you were living in this crazy world. You made me happy.

I love you for everything that you are and I will forever be proud to be your Dad. Thank you for making me happy during your short life.

Forever, 

Daddy

I clearly recall Nonie beaming as he told me about how Julia had surprised the whole family at her acting workshop recital. It was their first time to see her perform, and she hadn’t told them that she was playing Tracy Turnblad, the lead role in the musical Hairspray. She blew them all away, said Nonie.

Knowing her only through her father’s doting eyes, it was still a terrible shock to hear that she had taken her own life in 2015. It was during her wake that I was able to see Julia’s Hairspray performance for the first time, along with other early performances, as well as her many works of art and poetry.

The Buencaminos found out that Julia had been able to talk three friends out of committing suicide, literally saving their lives. Through their grief, the Buencamino family has made Julia’s legacy live on by confronting the stigma of depression and urging others to do so too.

“We need to remove the stigma of society, accepting only those who are happy, dismissing a sad feeling as something that will just pass or forcing people who are feeling down to get over it or get better,” Nonie said on the first anniversary of Julia’s death. “We need to make people feel that they can ask for help.”

To commemorate the first anniversary, the family launched The Julia Buencamino Project with the advocacy of reaching out to young people going through depression. Part of the project is Julia’s Bench, a small wooden bench adorned with pieces of Julia’s artwork that they hope to put in schools. The bench symbolizes a safe space for anyone who sits on it, a way for them to quietly signal that they need help or a friend to talk to.

The following letter to Julia from her father is a letter full of pain, but also full of love. It may be unusual to read a love letter like this during the month that celebrates romance with hearts and flowers and chocolates. But through Nonie’s words and the Buencaminos’ work, it is clear that way beyond romantic love, it is the love of family, the love of parents for their children, that truly endures.

For more information on Julia’s Bench, visit www.facebook.com/TheJuliaBuencaminoProject/