******
senti mode. wala lang. ;-)
follow-up lang 'to.
ang gulo ng december 25 ko. buti na lang na-agapan. kung hindi--- kill! ewan ko ba, pag dating talaga siguro sa lovelife na yan...malas ako. fault ko rin naman eh. simpleng reply lang di ko pa ginawa. ano ba naman yung "hi" di ba? ewan, inabot na naman yung pride ko. nagmagaling. tuloy, naging madrama yung simula ng pasko ko. subtle lang nung una. masama raw ang loob nya. kesyo di na raw ako nagpaparamdam. ang lungkot-lungkot na raw doon, tapos ni wala man lang balita galing sa kin. shit. syempre medyo na-guilty ako. sabay sorry.
maya-maya, nag-iba na yung mood. eh medyo inspired yung guts ko nun ni don cuervo. ilang shots din yon. kaya isang tanong nya, isang sagot naman ako. honesty pala ha. eh di naging honest ako.
ano ba ang gusto nyang malaman? ano ba ang dapat nyang malaman? dami nang nagbago. hirap na hirap na ko. sanay na ko na wala ka. di na kita nami-miss. ang labo na nung sa tin. 2 years? wow, parang ang dali-daling maghintay. pagbalik mo ba, di ka na ulit aalis?
ano pa ba ang gusto nyang malaman? ano pa ba yung dapat nyang malaman? di na ko sure sa nararamdaman ko sa'yo. ang dami na nating napalampas at pinapalampas na mga bagay. ang hirap nang sabayan. nakakapagod nang maghabol. umiyak sya. iniyakan na naman ako. pinaiyak ko na naman sya. may napaiyak na naman ako.
shit talaga. remember the book? yung binigay ko sa kanya last month. GUESS HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU? oo nga naman. ano yon? lokohan? sandali, umiiyak na rin pala ako. sorry, minsan ang selfish ko talaga.
uuwi sya para lang may mapatunayan. parang pwede? sabihin na nating pwede, kung gugustuhin. pero ayoko. ano na lang sasabihin ng parents nya? sinisira ko future nya? pero di ba sabi nya part ako ng future na yon? na ako nga ata yung future na yon?
wag na lang. tapusin mo na. maghihintay na lang ako. just promise me that when you come back, you're going to stay with me for good. ang bigat nung pinakawalan ko sa kanyang salita. ang bigat din nung pinangako nya. "baby, dalawang pasko na lang."
*sigh*
******
12/25/2003. 37th month. 2:00 to 9:00 AM, all cards have been laid down. hoping.
I heard tears falling.
I feel pain in your voice.
I saw heartbeats weakening.
I wanted to stop them.
I was dying to stop them.
But when I tried,
I heard my own tears.
I feel my voice causing the same pain.
I saw my heartbeats tracing yours, fragmented and silenced.
The struggle was wounding.
I couldn't even stop mine.
Now, how could I stop yours?
*****
for making you feel the way you're not supposed to,
i'm sorry.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.5 License.
he has plans for her, just like you.
and he's here, you're not.
******
he invited her to go somewhere this holiday.
but for some reason, she just couldn't.
lucky you...
you order a cup
"iced cold," you say,
"with whipped cream"
they hand it to you
making sure that all
your requests are done
you smell its taste
you taste its smell
it's your solemn ritual
it moistens your hand
until your mind freezes
and the world stops
"it's safe again," you say
this is your private moment
as you sip, as you breathe.
*****
i tried another flavor last night.
they called it mocha fredoccinno.
Hold me, please?
Hold me until I fall asleep.
It was a heavy day.
Let me rest.
******
So much emotional drama today.
Sing me a song.
Lull me to sleep.
Hold my hand.
Help me breathe.
Stay with me.
Hug me tight.
Smile for me.
Save me tonight.
Every word can be explained by numbers. Every story can be summarized by counting. Ten years ago, two people learned that they both exist. But it didn't matter. A year after, they learned to recognize each other's faces. Still, nothing mattered.
Two years after their first meeting, other people noticed them and they also began to notice the other. One year later, they established friendship; though, it could have been more than that. He gave her a poem, sang Why can't it be? for her, and teased her that someday he's gonna marry her. All she replied was a smile. But behind those lips was a dying wish to tell him that the poem is quite mushy, but melted her heart; that it can be; and that she dreams for that someday to come.
Sadly, the stars didn't conspire to meet their wishes. Instead, these heavenly bodies guided the two of them to meet other people. Thus, the next two years was a break. The only consolation for that was the fact that they didn't miss each other. Perhaps, they both understood that they couldn't be. Suddenly, the world decided to make some adjustments and agreed for some compromises. It allowed the two people who met two years ago experience heartaches and meet again.
On the twenty fifth of this month that year, they found the chance to cross the line. And it was amazing. There were bad days, of course. But the whole thing was amazing, nonetheless. Theirs didn't follow a 10-commandent, you-shouldn't-do-this-or-that list. They were the same two people who had chosen to be just friends a few years back. They simply added some prefixes to the word "friend" for the sake of labels. But after a year, the prefixes slowly detached themselves from the rootword. And so were the feelings. And so were the presence. So, by the start of the eight year after their first meeting, they drifted apart. She didn't feel bitter about it. But she was hurt. He didn't feel bitter about it. But he ached. She thought that she was thankful that they are over. He thought that he was thankful that they are not yet over.
The next year was another break. They remained friends. It was an agreement right from the start. He knew how she had been doing. She knew how he had been feeling. It was a fair play. He liked another girl but regreted losing her. She liked another guy but still thought of him. On the twenty fifth of the eleventh month of that year, they greeted each other with the same greetings that they had said the past year. They kept it that way. Talking as if everything was fine. Thinking about the future as if it was clear. Seeing the other as if the other was there. Everything was subtle, unspoken, and plain.
After a year, things seemed to be better than what they were the last year. He came back to that line, waiting for and expecting her to do the same. She said no, afraid that everything appears only good at the start. He insisted. Still, she said no. But it didn't matter. It didn't affect the way how things have become. It has rather made things better. It has opened possibilities. It has helped them see through things. They have become transparent to one another.
One day, he said the words that she has learned to avoid. She deliberately ignored the supposed form of acknowledgment. He understood, but that didn't stop him from saying them. Every conversation has ended with them. Saying them has become his habit. Hearing them has become hers. On the twenty fifth of this month this year, she has given him a book that carries all the answers to his doubts. The twenty fifth of this month this year has been similar to the twenty fifth of this month two years ago.
Amazing.
*****
It is a children's book called GUESS HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU. She saw it almost two years ago. And since then, she has promised that one day she's gonna buy and give it to someone (of course, not expecting that it would be him).
She shields a lot of secrets
And those are not even hers
Each of them is left by someone
Who sees her as a secret's heir
She bequeaths each secret a name
And carefully puts it in a memory box
So when its owner comes again
She can return it, still locked.
Every secret represents
A person’s life with a twist
That is why she does not mind
Collecting secrets with such zest.
Some people often wonder
If she gets tired of listening
She just smiles and reasons out that
It instead leaves her anticipating.
The secrets, by the way,
Stretch from both extreme ends
It may be what lie they say
Or who are sleeping with whose beds.
Some secrets almost kill her
With a really good laugh
While others heedlessly remind her
Of her stinging, bad luck.
But, you know, there is a problem
Since secret-keeping becomes a habit
She often assume some secrets
As if they were really hers.
So, on the day a friend approaches
And asks for the saved pieces She discreetly opens the memory box
Only to doubt which are his?
She then resolves to stop pretending
That everything is still fine
And she compels herself to tell him:
"Next time, every secret will be mine."
It all started with a simple question
That should have ended up with one reply
But when someone sensed her trepidation
She masked her answer with a lie.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.5 License.
