Rekindling.

I have met a guy. 

I liked him. 

He liked me. 

Or I would like to think that he did. 

But how come we did not end up together?

Fast forward to one year and eight months, I still think of him. He is in every corner of my mind. No matter how I bury the memories of him with other thoughts, with work, with friends, with films, with books, with television series, with social media intake, Netflix. He is still there, a major part of me, in every breath I take, in every angle I would lean my head, here, there, front, center, in the mornings before I pray, I would find myself lingering a few seconds, recalling every piece of him, racking my brain, trying not to miss the details of our encounter, that brief sweet encounter. 

There are even instances when I would allow myself to go beyond my memory of him-- us holding hands longer, tighter, braver, wiser, not letting go. Us in a relationship, having the time of our lives sharing pieces of our selves, oh so slowly, kissing, laughing, fighting, making up, sharing dreams, my head leaning on his chest listening to the beat of his heart, mine... it was bittersweet, I would pull myself in time to shake my head, pause, blink and close my eyes because it hurts so bad lingering in that one drawer of my brain which would not exist in reality no matter how I rearranged it. It was what it was, a fantasy, a longing, a hope.

Where did all go wrong? 

#fiction lol

Fresh Grad.

"Sana pag binasa ko ulit to next month eh nakaraos na ako sa tinatawag kong problema ngayon. Sana nakalampas na ako sa sitwasyon na kinaroroonan ko. Next stage na naman please. Sa ilang buwan n pananatili ko dito sa bahay, naging masaya naman ako, sa pagbabantay ko kay Clark, sa pag-aantay ng mga palabas na gusto kong panoorin. Pero di nawawala ang pakiramdam na parang napagiiwanan na ako. Ginagawa ko naman ang makakaya ko para tanggapin sa mga kumpanya na pinag-aapplyan ko. Ano ang kulang? Onti-onti na akong nawawalan ng pag-asa. At kung dati iiyak lang ako para makuha ang mga gusto ko kila mama at papa at sa pamilya ko. Ngayon, kahit super dami na sigurong luha ang mailabas ko, pupunasan lang nila ito, bibigyan ako ng mga advice, sasabihan ng "makakahanap ka rin. Take your time." Hanggang doon nalang ang support nila. Nasa akin na ang desisyon kung saan papatungo ang buhay ko. Noong tinanggap ko yung diploma na yun kamakailan akala ko hudyat na iyon para masabi ko sa kanila na "kaya ko na po ito". Hindi pala. Ma, Pa. Okay lang ba, kahit ngayong araw lang, pwede ko bang sabihin na "hay, ewan ko, bahala na muna"?"

- Self at 20, 30 June 2012

Forgive me, Alphabet.

Where to start? When was the day we've suddenly drifted apart? We used to be so closed like a middle finger tightly clinging on the back of forefinger. I even conspire to the future to name my first child, Alphabet. 26 letters compressed in one word. But then, we drifted off like a four season. You couldn't bear the coldness of the day so you decided going, exploring the dryness of the night. You reason out on me, telling me things; exciting new places. In my mind there formed pictures of green trees, its vines, butterflies, flowers, water gushing out, the smell of nature, the taste of fiction-- the coldness of comfort freezed that forever. It was all in the mind as I chose routine over passion. Shaking your head, you draw a long sigh, opened the door and paused. You stepped out without closing the door behind you. It was always a question mark by the end of the day, full of ifs and butterflies in the stomach after you left. I found the guts to draw the curtains up and check where could you have possibly gone but winds blow off any traces of footsteps. I don't even know where North and South is. Or tell the difference between East and West. Even what feet to use first in finding you is very hard at this time. Give me time, Alphabet. Go ahead and explore for what we have is four worlds. Chance encounter is never impossible. Just be patient.  

Written 12 December 2012

Update 

28 January 2018

Getting back to the habit of doing my own laundry, perhaps by this the habit of writing will come back as well. 

4Ws

Where am i in your inbox,

Which part in the drawers of your mind am i stored, 

Where am i in your life, 

Which part of your body do i exist, 

Just where

Who

What

Am i to you

Yung one-sided love? EST 2012.

I've been loving you for so long. From a distance, I whisper to the wind what my heart is shouting. It's beating "I love you, I love you, I love you" just like your favorite song playing in a repeat mode. We are friends, we laugh together, joke and fool around. There are awkward moments because society says you're a man and I'm a woman. Meant to be together, not to be keep apart. There's one moment where I see a glimpse of hope of "us", "we", being one together, sharing the same noun with a single verb in a sentence, in a paragraph, in a story, creating a life, breathing the same air. During a class discussion, I always raise my hands to feign intelligence. I have to endure the embarassment and humiliation when a teacher calls me for recitation. I am a stammering freak. I hate her, she should know that I am feigning. Maybe I could forgive her if one day she'll ask me"what is love?". I'll point you without much hesitation. Very cheeky perhaps but that's what you are to me. In Geometry, we sit apart, you sitting in front of the row, while I'm contented sitting at the back, staring and glowing at the mere sight of your back, the shape of your ears, your tousled hair, that tiny mole on your nape that's mocking me. Mindless to the teacher whose asking the class to compute the speed of car B from car C and A and all those shit that makes the world a complicated math world. You barely notice me because you are happy. I hold my breath as I see you look on your right. Sitting beside you is the woman you love. You look so perfect together, from the back of my mind, an evil thought says "ruin that perfection". But, I just watch silently from behind, murmuring from within that it's alright, I'm not hurting. This thing go on as we enter to other school ground called college, we remain friends. I say, I am dying. I could not hold on to you any longer. Waiting is a disease burning deep within me.

Written July 21, 2012

World War Chill

Sarap nung greenwich pizza tangina pero parang feeling ko mas masarap maging si Manong at seven in the morning, chill and still and perhaps content? Just perhaps

👫👬👭

Just thankful that before this year ends, I get the chance to make up with dear people who were missing in my life for months, especially this one here. Cheers to friendship! Choose it, no matter how the world tells you otherwise, prove them wrong and choose it. ❤