stupefied

Au revoir

2006-05-04T16:42:00.000+08:00

so this is goodbye.
i'm moving.
moving out.
moving on.
come visit my new home. www.marshmalu.blogspot.com

I saw the sign

2006-04-24T18:01:00.000+08:00

How do you read signs? For the longest time I’ve been asking for God to give me signs on things that I couldn’t really be too sure of, or when I’m scared. I’ve always believed that when you ask for it, something weird just happens and you’ll know that God has been listening all the while. Something pops out, could be the simplest or the most outrageous and somehow you knew it’s been God’s hand leading you to where you’re supposed to be. Then you wouldn’t be scared anymore.

But can the signs go wrong? I remember how I’ve always prayed that the first man to give me 3 long-stemmed pink roses would be the one. Ex # 5 gave me 3 long-stemmed pink roses on Valentine’s Day, and I had goose bumps all over my body. But while courtship lasted for 4 months, we were officially a couple for only 16 days. World record for me. He decided we weren’t meant to be. So he ended up being Ex #5, and I ended up giving away even the tiniest shred of pride left hanging in me. So much for signs.

Now I’m in another quandary, yet I still hope for a sign.

Back home, I’ve made up my mind completely. I’d quit my job and find my place abroad. I’ve gotten a lot of no’s from friends, I presumed out of worry, or concern or maybe lack of knowledge of my future destination or they probably couldn’t see much certainty in my eyes while I was eagerly sharing my plans. I listened to what they had to say, just listened. In my mind, there was no turning back.

Same with my parents. One evening we were in our front yard having coffee and a little chat and my mom goes “You’re fine here. Do you really have to go? My dad thinks the same way. What else am I looking for? For some it would have been a very complicated question, but I knew what to answer right away. Being so firm and sure of my plans, I told them I wanted to explore better opportunities. I’ve never been so sure.

Then when my bus was about to leave for Manila the other night, my eyes just burst. Kissing my parents goodbye had never been so sad. I didn’t know how it felt that way, but I suddenly asked myself if I was really prepared to leave my family and live so many miles away from them. Been in Manila for 6 years now, but it never felt like I was really gone. I could just hop in the next bus on a weekend if I ever miss them. But abroad, it wouldn’t be that easy. I could only shake my head.

Last night while I was hearing mass, I had a conversation with Him, and I was asking for a sign to guide me in a decision I’m about to make, which I consider life-changing. Then today I read this bad news about the place I’m considering for my next job, more like a warning. I’m confused. I’m not sure whether it’s His way of telling me not to go, or making me stronger and ready for what might await me there. I can’t be sure if He’s preventing me from something He thinks could be bad for me, or He’s just testing me if I’m certain about what I really want.

All I know is that I want a better life. But the hard part is that everyone seems to have a different definition of “better”. And mine’s a little spoiled.

I don’t know what to make of the sign I just got. I think I will just have to trust that God would have wanted me to be happy. What to do then, I should ask myself that.

Roses

2006-04-18T17:37:00.000+08:00

Tuesday. Been home for a week now. On top of that, I still have until this weekend to take my well-deserved break. My first after about 5 years of working like a dog. And so all I could really do these days is sleep and eat and sleep, lose some eye bags, gain some weight. My recently-retired dad has been spoiling me with all my fave dishes which I did miss a lot. Makes leaving again more unbearable than last time. Especially now that my mind's so set to fly and find my place elsewhere. I kind of given into the hopelessness of our dear country ever giving us the answers to our dreams. So as others did, I'm leaving too. If you ask me where I'm going, it's still a secret. You'll hear from me soon.

I've talked to my parents about it, and as always, all they could promise me was their support and love. Though they gave me things to think about, like having a job that pays good enough, and being in a safe and comfortable zone, and the price of aiming too high, they still leave the decision to me. My call. I love my parents for that. I really can't remember the last time they ever stood against any of my decisions, after college graduation. Their trust, I had to earn it over time though. Used to be really stubborn I'd bang my head against the wall when they wouldn't let me have my way.

I remember those times I was this little rebel who'd make my dad's nose really flare up. I joined a sorority in college against his will. I got myself into a lot of mess in school, with my idealism. There was a time my father had to beg me to just concentrate on my college books instead of being so involved in student activities. My very first subpoena (for slander) was served to my dad and he got so mad and shamed that when I got home, he was throwing my clothes at me, and asking me to leave the house if I won't give up our case. I didn't give up (it's a good thing we won) coz I almost failed to make it to graduation because of that case. One time I asked for permission to go to Catanduanes for a JPIA event, and my dad, learning we'd take a ferry disapproved of it. I still went. I knew he wouldn't let me have a boy friend yet, but I still did have, behind his back.

The good thing bout me is that I was good in class. (Confidence huh)Even getting tangled up in all those troubles, I still managed to score good grades. My dad would say, how much more if you only focused on school? Looking back, I think I did pretty well. Had it not for all those not-so-good things, I would have ended (if I could borrow this line) intact but incomplete. Or maybe a four-eyed geek.

Anyway, this is my prob. I've no sense of direction, especially with my thoughts. I've this straight road I wanna take but things just pop out of nowhere and I start talking about totally unrelated things. Like now. I meant to tell a story about my sixth day here in the province, free of work and stress and worries. Like what I've been doing the past days, while all my friends are at work, my sister's in school, my mom's at work too, my brother always outside, and my dad busy with the store being put up in front of our house (being retired and left with not much to do).

I've been making scrapbooks. Very therapeutic. Though nostalgic too, especially when I stare at photos that looked so happy back then, and felt so painful today. So beautiful to go back to time and feel how hard you once laughed. Somehow you knew that when you smiled that time, you were really happy. And when he hugged you, or kissed you in the photos, he really loved you.

Old photos. Sweet memories frozen in a piece of paper to give you reasons to be thankful you've taken the road that led you to them. Why you crossed paths, and loved each other. Why he had to take a turn. Why you had to stay glued to the same ground. Probably so when he comes back, he'd know exactly where to find you.

I've this favorite quote that says, God gave us memories so we'd have roses in December.

I love roses.

Holy week stories

2006-04-15T19:07:00.000+08:00

I’m home. Four days ago actually. It’s gonna be a long vacation and I’m ticklish. Holy week plus my 5-day audit leave. Smell some party. (Well, that’d be after Easter). The past days it’s been church and some processions. Visited relatives, old & new, and some friends. Failed to make my confession though. Just prayers and abstinence. We’ve not had meat since Monday. There’s not much to watch either. I couldn’t really do fasting coz I’ve bad acids in my stomach which makes it intolerant of lack of food. Today Christ is dead. I know any sacrifice I’ve made would be grain compared to what He did for us in the name of love. Suddenly got me thinking how much I can actually give up for people I love. That I’d save for another blog.

Anyway, it always feels good to be home.

Since I got here, I’ve been to places and faces and I keep forgetting that distance and time can do so much. Why I’m still amazed that people do grow up, and marry and have babies or get so sick and die amazes me as well. I even forget I’m 25 already, so imagine my surprise when friends so much younger than I am are now-mommies and wives, and people my age are already throwing birthday parties for their kids.

Like last night we were with one of our friends (who was two years behind me) and she was carrying a 2-week baby boy in her arms. Her baby, so adorable, I couldn’t quite believe such can have really small feet and nails that seemed like china to me. Looking at my friend, so maternal & mature confirmed how unready I was for such things. I couldn’t even hold a baby right. I felt I could break his tiny bones and I thought, I’d probably be a terrible mother.

Our friend was only 23 and the doctor had to cut her to get the baby out. She lost much of her water so a ceasarian delivery had to be done. The whole time she dozed off so she wasn’t able to feel those cruel labor pains. With this kind of delivery though, pain comes last. You feel it when everything’s over. But when you look at the baby, it’s like a very powerful painkiller that numbs your wound and only makes you think of happiness. The stitches could hurt a bit, but holding your baby makes everything worth it.

Then you see your parents, proud lolos and lolas. I thought of my own parents. They’d be thrilled to have one too. But maybe they have to wait some more.

Her brother joked about us wanting one for ourselves too. I thought no, probably my other friend, she’s been so astonished with the baby from the start, plus she has a boyfriend. Teased her bout tying the knot and making one too. She shrugged almost instantly. Not ready. I thought, when do you really become ready?

So they picked on me. I was older, had a job that pays well, plus a green light from my parents to holy matrimony, so what was I waiting for? I laughed so hard. Doesn’t it take two to make a baby? Told them I’m single, FYI. And not dating. And you probably would laugh but even if I dress sexy and think like western women do, I’ve made a personal preference to stay intact until my wedding night. So I’m definitely not ready for a baby.

The baby cries, gives out that cute little fart and blushes, as though he was shamed to have some ladies hear him do something gross. Proud mommy gave us small photos of baby Mark Lewis, and it was time to leave.

**********************************

Also last night, we joined tatay (grandpa) in the procession. It was quite poignant seeing how age has taken away all of his teeth and verve. I remembered him being so tough and potent that as a child I’d become scared to approach him. Same goes with my other cousins. I can’t remember being close to him (though my mom tells me tatay used to fetch me to class when I was 6, riding in his big old-fashioned bicycle. Oh I wished so bad I could recall those times. He probably might have talked to me or told me stories or something).

Last night he seemed unreachable as well, but why it was hard to get close to him wasn’t because of fear (like in our childhood days) but maybe because while his body has become weaker, the wall he has built around him has grown so impenetrable. I couldn’t get in.

I worry for him. He’s so old, and so sad. I wonder, when was the last time he ever smiled? My nanay (grandma) passed away about 7 years ago and since then, he seemed to have shut the world out of his life, including his entire family. We used to frequent our grandparents’ house when nanay was still alive. After her death, it was like the doors to the house have been closed. On nanay’s funeral, I couldn’t forget seeing him cry so much. I’ve never seen anyone cried so heavily like he did that afternoon. I cried that nanay was gone. But I cried harder for the man she left behind.

I don’t really know what’s going on in his mind today, but I don’t need to guess that he probably misses nanay so terribly. It makes me sad.

***********************************

The other night I was with my two favorite brods. Been a while, so we had lots of catching up to do. One of them prepared the best home-made iced mocha I’ve ever had, a table has been set on their front yard. 3 chairs. 1 pack of Marlboro lights. And a lovely full moon. Stories. Laughters. More stories. More laughters. Until about 2:30 am.

************************************

It’s good to know that even though the world seemed changed, some things stay behind you. It gives you comfort knowing that though time puts distance between you and the people who have been part of your life, the distance isn’t something you can’t cross. Sometimes all you need is one SMS, or a half-minute call and you find yourself laughing with the same old people you loved, laughing bout the old days, laughing bout today, and even tomorrow. You worry that because people grow tall or fat or get pregnant or fall in love with other people, they have already changed. You worry that because people don’t SMS you or email you as often as you would, you have already lost them. You worry that because you live in different worlds now, you’re different now. These used to be my worries. But see what I put there, a “used-to-be”.

You can’t really lose a friend to distance.

Old Flame

2006-04-07T17:19:00.000+08:00

They were in a great relationship. The kind that started with friendship and ‘developed’ into something more. It was deeper that way. Somehow they knew each other well, loved each other much. Compatible. Inseparable. Everybody could tell it’ll be the two of them at the end of the line. They did too. She probably loved him more, he was her first boyfriend. He seemed happy. She had no doubt in her mind he was the one. He was scared he couldn’t give that certainty. There was nobody else for her. He was afraid the ghost of a past love hasn’t died yet. But he loved her, he was sure of that. In her mind, she made dreams of them together. His mind did the same, his heart included somebody else. To his mind he listened more, to this girl he gave what he could. He did his part.

Monthsaries after monthsaries they celebrated. It was a smooth sail for them. Graduation came. He had to leave for board review. She had to stay for further studies. Goodbye for a while. She never expected it’d be his last goodbye.

Here comes old flame. The girl he loved in high school. The girl he never had. The ghost he’s been fighting all along. After some time they bump into each other. What do you do when you learn it wasn’t a one-sided love story all the while? What do you do when an old flame offers you light? To whom do you turn your back to? The girl you left behind or the girl behind you now?

He tries to hurl away doubts creeping through him. This is only a test, he tells himself. Just one of those storms that hits you on your picnic in the park. You see, tomorrow the sun’s gonna be back. But looking at the girl he once loved and lost scared the wits out of him. He needs a little more convincing. He felt tomorrow wouldn’t be as sunny.

He’s torn. He figured he loves them both, but he’s scared to admit who will make him happier coz he knew the answer would make him a bad person. It would be terribly unfair to the girl he made some promises with. He’s happy with the first one. But with the second he felt he’d be complete. He felt sorry for the girl back home. There was no doubt he did love her, and what they shared was true, but this thing he feels for the old flame was so strong he can’t put the fire off. It was so strong to let go.

At this point he knew what he wants. It doesn’t feel right, but to him, doing the right thing would leave him in pieces. If he stays with her, they’d be intact but incomplete. It’s like something’s going to be missing always. If he leaves her now, he’d be her greatest pain, she’d be his biggest guilt, but that would be temporary. In time, he thought, being true would be his only defense.

But how do you tell the person back home? Do you just say, sorry, I changed my mind? Is it really possible to suddenly change your feelings about one person when an old flame comes along? How do you make her understand that you’d rather let honesty hurt her now than have to have to lie to protect her feelings for God knows how long? How do you say, if you really love someone, you’d be willing to accept that his happiness may lie in somebody else and not with you? How do you ask for your freedom, without breaking her heart?

The girl back home. She felt deceived. Unfair, she cries. What happened to the love they shared, the dreams they made? Her whole life has been rearranged to fit him in it. Then he decides to bail out. Unforgivable, she thought. Can one really change his mind that fast? She truly loved him, but she couldn’t quite accept the fact that she no longer was the one who’d make him happy. She loved him, but maybe a little too much to give him up. If she had the choice, she’d fight for him, and bet everything to win him back, but if the guy was begging for his freedom, how do you say no? All she could really do was watch him go.

So he chooses the old flame. Guy admits it was entirely his fault. He shouldn’t have entered into a relationship when something was still burning at the back of his heart. But it was of no use to be sorry. Spilt milk they say. For a while, guilt was behind them. How can you really be happy at somebody’s expense? But over time, the only thing they could hold on to was that they were being true. No matter how long, the truth will set one free. They’re free now. And they’re very happy.

The girl back home has healed somehow. All she could do was trust in His plans. Maybe it wasn’t her time yet.

A nice cup of Latte

2006-04-06T18:34:00.000+08:00

A little variation on my usually uninteresting afternoon. Had coffee with a “brod” whom I’ve not had the chance to talk to in a little over 2 years despite being on the same tower for seven months now. He’s the busy auditor; I’m the great pretender in being busy. Anyway, it was nice chatting with an old friend. Brought back a lot of memories of the old college days.

Makes me miss college. It was the best time of my life. I don’t think anything could top that. The bests and the worsts in my life, I faced in college. First love, first loss, first column, first subpoena, first hearing, my first “5” in my class card, sorority life, a guy best friend, protective “brods”, leading two big organizations at the same time, soul sisters, good friends, great dreams…

Six years after and it makes me wonder how things though a little changed now still felt the same. My brod asks, You still cry these days? He could tell. He’s been one of my crying shoulders back then. And every time I did, I’d end up feeling silly for letting shallow things get through my eyes. He was the one who told me that when you lose something, let it go, coz maybe God’s cooking something bigger and He needs both your hands to be able to take hold of it. He just had a way with things. And he’s two years younger than me. I thought, the older I get, the more automatic tears become. Maybe because it gets tougher with age.

We chatted about people we knew and how far they’ve gone compared to us—geographically or figuratively. Of some we knew, of others we really had no clue. He was teasing me about my first love who happened to be one of our brods. Remember the one that got away? (The one I sent away is more like it actually). I just laughed it off. But that didn’t keep me from wondering where he could be now. He could be married for Christ’s sake, just like my 2 ex’s have all tied the knot after me. So now I’m not a wife material. More like a training ground for marital life. Don’t think so.

He asked me of my current love life. My turn to laugh. I told him someone’s interested, though I don’t really think he was in any way a potential. The spark just wasn’t there. Told him, he doesn’t speak English well. He told me to go to the States. Maybe it’s the spinster road I’m gonna tread. He laughed. Maybe.. No, just kidding.

Told him about my current dilemmas, my current dreams, my current frustrations. When a good friend recently passed the Bar, it did somehow strike me; I thought I could have also added Atty to my name. He planned to go to the States since auditors are quite in demand because of the Sarbanes-Oxley requirements. I wondered why I never became an auditor. We talked about some people getting married. I thought, I could have been if I only waited.

Typical me, and my never-ending second guesses.

He said such thoughts would only leave me empty. He said, smile.

And then it was time to go.

It was one of the best tasting Latte I had in months.

Pay Time

2006-04-05T17:43:00.000+08:00

Monthend activities still up, but we’re cool. Not as burnt I used to be back in my old workplace. Now we can go home and still see the sun shining, and catch TV Patrol. Back then I’d be home in the dead of night that I’d even miss the late-night news.

So if it isn’t work that’s stressing me out these days, (you can also exclude love by the way, somehow I found a diversion to make me forget at least)…then what? It probably has something to do with April 15 which is by the way a Saturday so make that April 17 (Monday) which happens to be the deadline for filing of income tax returns.

It never really troubled me before; my previous company takes care of that. Under Substituted Filing, a person receiving purely compensation income from ONE employer during the year won’t need to file Form 1700.

But for 2005, I had 2 employers and this adds a little knot to the process. I have to recompute tax due vs tax withheld equals either a payable or a refundable or a zero if they are equal. Good for those with the zero’s, all they have to do is fill out Form 1700 and file it to their RDO (Revenue District Office). If tax due is greater than the tax withheld, you have a tax liability meaning you have to pay this April 17. Otherwise it would mean hefty penalties & interests which you’d rather not have.

And so this is what upsets me. After actually remitting about a hundred thousand to the BIR in the form of taxes withheld for 2005, I still owe them 23K this April 17. I know this may not be as much as what Kris Aquino is paying or whoever, but it’s something I’ve actually worked my butts for. I don’t really mind paying up if I know where my money is going. But it’s pretty obvious how this supposedly “lifeblood” of the country doesn’t even reach the heart. Kaya unti-unting namamatay yung bansa. Somehow there are pockets waiting along the way.

And what about big fishes who can swim away without paying their dues? They get bigger and richer. Somehow our internal revenue system could be “workable”. I don’t mean to generalize, but you can’t really have a meal with honesty.

I’m also wondering when they will ever augment the personal exemption of 32K, 25K & 20K (for married, head of the family & single individuals respectively) plus the additional exemption of 8,000 per child/dependent. When will they ever realize that those amounts were stipulated many, many years back, when prices weren’t as sore to the pocket as they now are? That while prices go up, wages are left behind.

My friend who knows a lot about taxes advised me not to file anymore. There’s only a little chance, if any that BIR will know. Besides, it’s only loose change compared to what the big fishes are trying to evade. Immaterial. I shrugged. Tempting but I’m not sure if taking that chance would be worth it. If everybody would be thinking in this line, it’s obvious where our country is headed. It’s explicable to get disillusioned by the corrupt system that we have, but to have ourselves corrupted by the same system and be one of them, it’s unforgivable

Okay, I’ll pay.

First Move

2006-03-31T18:32:00.000+08:00

Picture this:

There’s this guy in your office. Single, available, good-looking, smart, the perfect gentleman. He’s 21 and you’re 26. But even if they call you a cradle snatcher, you still like him anyway. You’ve been walking in the same office for quite some time already; teased a couple of times, but all you could share were awkward silences. A little nod, maybe, a little smile, but your tongue just chickens out. You like him darn much it aches already, but you’re powerless. You think that by being the girl, all you could really do is wait and call on your saints and hope that by some miracle, your existence will be acknowledged one day. You think about making the first move. But how do you do that? What if he calls you Ate? You fear the pain of rejection or the plain embarrassment of it. So you just brush under the carpet. You just give up.

End of story, you hope it’s gonna die a natural death. But you missed the point that something like this can actually haunt you for the rest of your life, like one of your many what if’s. What if you took the chance?

My female colleague seems to be in the same boat. She asks, “Should I make the first move?”

I’ve no expert advice to give away this time, though I remember having done this a couple of times already. In one I was lucky, in another I was mortified, in another, I was pathetic. Once I told a guy friend how I felt and he got more embarrassed than I was. He said he was flattered. Another said he was sorry. The immature one ended up not speaking with me for good. Some could actually appreciate honesty, but others are turned off by such straightforwardness. Some would acknowledge your boldness, but others would think it's an act of desperation. But frankly, I’d rather get it over with and put up with whatever the guy has to say than second-guess forever. You’ll need a tough heart though.

You’re lucky if he feels the same way, or he thinks you’re a potential. Otherwise, you’ll only be sorry. I think this calls for some “testing the waters”. Somehow you need to gauge your position before you make the move, if only to protect yourself from possibly losing your self-esteem. But that's the tricky part. How you do assess what he feels about you? Can you really tell it from his actions? Some men can be showy, but others like the mysterious effect. I can’t be certain. His silence can probably mean many things. He could probably be testing the waters too. Or maybe he doesn’t even know your name. Or he’s just not into you coz you’re guava and he wants peach. Or could he be that torpe? Can the fact that he’s younger than you actually make the situation any different?

To the girls, how do you make the first move?

To the guys, what do you do when a girl does?

Anyone?

troubled...

2006-03-30T13:03:00.000+08:00

Heavy-eyed today, probably from troubled sleep last night. I find myself in a dilemma which to me felt more like a déjà vu. Been there before…Been there so many times actually. I may have asked myself over a hundred times already. What do I really want? Of course it would have to be something that would make me happy and that’s the bigger question.

My dad worries about my perpetual discontent. He thinks eyeing too many stars would only leave me empty-handed at the end of the race. Too much ambition can drive you insane, he says, at which I’d often raise an eyebrow. I wouldn’t normally argue, if not there’s no telling when the debate would end with him. But mentally I’ll tell myself what Robert Browning once said "Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?"

I don’t consider myself ambitious. I don’t really aim to be president or famous or have a fridge stuffed with a lifetime supply of chocolates. I only hope to be able to achieve as much as I can handle, and what I can handle would be something that would make my life a little comfortable. I just think that when opportunities knock at our doors, then we should let them in. I don’t want to go to bed at night and blame myself for things that I should have done but was just too scared to try.

Contentment is defined as a state of mind in which one’s desires are confined to his lot whatever it may be—my dad’s definition too. To be satisfied with what I have and take comfort in the knowledge that I’m actually more fortunate than others. He did not favor my decision to leave my previous company in my chase for bigger opportunities in a multi-national firm. He thought my old company was okay, it pays well, takes care of my health, we have beer every Christmas (actually everything na pang-Noche Buena) and if I have to think long-term, then it would be the perfect company where I could lose my hair and teeth eventually.

Comfort zone, yes. I guess that was what scared me really. Being in that company has been very convenient to me and I’ve gotten so immune to pressure to the point that nothing challenges me anymore. I was happy; it felt like my second home, but I knew somewhere outside my zone, was a sky of opportunities waiting for me. I didn’t want to deprive myself of that.

Six months after having relished a totally new culture and here I am, with a void somewhere in me. When I told my dad I wanted to quit my job for an even higher-paying job, he gave me that I-told-you-so look as though I was hearing him say it again. Perpetual discontent.

When do you start getting contented? When do you stop wanting more? Are contentment and happiness two different words?

The thing is, I couldn’t be certain about how I feel with my present job. I’m neither happy nor sad, neither satisfied nor dissatisfied. I just feel a little blank. I need some fresh air. Is this bad?

I’m torn between staying where I am right now and living bigger dreams, probably abroad. This is my dilemma. Somehow I’m being cynical about the current state of our country, with politicking and all. My vision of a better future in this job, or in this country is getting blurred each day. But what assurance do I have that working in a foreign country would put an end to my discontent? The thing I fear most is that once I start earning in dollars and amassing enough money to buy my own pleasures, I’d be unstoppable. The time I’ll stop I’ll probably have lost the time to be happy. It maybe too late for me to realize that happiness can’t be bought.

I’m being so wary about all these. I know it’s called taking risks. And I know ultimately everything would depend on me. I guess that’s what’s really disturbing me. I’ve a feeling my dad knows me too well.

Getaway

2006-03-27T14:44:00.000+08:00

What can I say, it was the perfect getaway. Last weekend, my girl friends and I decided it was time for our much deserved hiatus and so off we sailed to Puerto Galera. It was just unforgivable that neither of us was able to bring a sunblock and if you look at me now, I’m suddenly Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer and the girl in Parokya ni Edgar’s Silvertoes who had “kutis na kulay champorado”. Anyway, it was one of the best times I had in years, so maybe the burns were at least worth it.

I’ve been single for quite some time now, and so were my girl friends. Thinking of this used to make fountains out of my eyes, but having them around makes me feel less bad these days.

Saturday night we went moonbathing--laid down on the sand and watched for shooting stars. I did see one; I had a wish prepared in my mind. There was something soothing about the sound of the waves, and the way they touched the shore. I thought how nice it was to have good friends beside me. They were like the waves washing the muddled sand…to make it fine again and good again. I was the sand.

And I’m thankful.

Hospitals...Part II

2006-03-27T14:20:00.000+08:00

My X-ray says:

The cranial vault is intact. The sella turcica is normal in size and configuration. The clinoids are not eroded. No abnormal intracranial calcifications. The orbits are well-formed and symmetrical. The rest of the visualized bones are unremarkable.

“In English, you have a normal skull”, says the doctor, who’s probably seen me scratch my head a bit.

“What are these cysts then doc?” I asked, to which he was dumbfounded for a minute. Then he feels my forehead again and looks up, as though mentally he was browsing via Google although it looked like the search generated zero results.

He goes “It’s not in the skull, so perhaps it’s in the skin. I don’t think it’s malignant. To be safe, just have it operated. Yung nga lang magiging peklat yan.”

Perhaps. The doctor couldn’t be sure even with an X-ray and this worries me. I used to be comfortable with maybe’s rather than a straight answer coz it gives me something to hope for at least, but this time I felt it was much easier to handle the truth than prolong the agony of waiting. So I asked him “Is this cancerous?”

“I don’t think so hija. Kinakabahan ka ba?”

Obviously. What do you do when the person whom you’ve been counting on to give you an answer can’t give you the answer? Or maybe the answer you want to hear? I’ve been dying to hear that I should be fine. But I wanted to hear it from somebody who wouldn’t say perhaps. It’s my health at stake here, my life.

Well, he was just a doctor, I told myself. He couldn’t possibly know everything. What he could provide was an opinion, and that’s just based from previous studies or experiences.
Only God can really tell.

The afternoon ended with the doctor finally telling me to get another opinion, which I think was the brightest thing he could come up with the whole afternoon.

So now I’m skimming through a list of neuro-surgeons. I’m off for a second---err---fourth opinion.

Hospitals...

2006-03-24T15:03:00.000+08:00

Yesterday I found my steps in the hospital and as always, I had goose bumps all over my body. I had a 9 am appointment with a neurologist, to get an expert’s opinion on the whereabouts of my skull. I’ve this sort of cyst in my forehead, plus a frequent case of headaches, and after seeing two doctors who couldn’t be sure about what it was growing in my skull, I kind of gotten a little paranoid. My first bad news was that the neurologist was abroad and his secretary was unable to cancel immediately, so I had to wait for the next specialist who would be coming in at 3pm.

I never liked waiting, but when you’re waiting for an answer to an uncertainty such as this one, you wouldn’t mind counting the hours. In my case though, idle time is stressful to the mind. It makes me think a lot.

Like why I never liked hospitals. There’s something pungent, like the smell of death in the hallway. I know they should be given credit for saving--- or at least prolonging lives, but to me hospitals remind me of pain and suffering and death. They bring me a heavy feeling, being told in the face that we are living on borrowed time, the twist being not knowing the limits of that ‘time’. Twice I’ve been in the hospital and watched two people dear to me die in their bed. One was my lola who kept saying “dagat! dagat!” (as though she was seeing the beach in her final hours), the other one was my younger ‘brod” in the fraternity who died of colon cancer at the tender age of 18. Holding him on my last visit, he kept whispering, “sis, gusto ko ng magpahinga”. He passed away a few days later.

Hospitals scare me, as I fear for my life. Walking to the long white hallway was like walking towards the ‘unknown’. Everywhere I look I see people of different age, and different health conditions, in wheelchairs or stretchers or in their feet. Some appear physically strong but their eyes couldn’t lie anyhow. Some were physically faint but their eyes were those of a fighter. Some were just waiting, just as uncertain as I was.

Then I see doctors, and I’m reminded of my secret wish to become one. It’s like a very noble thing to be doing, making people feel better, giving answers to their questions and giving them a ray of hope. Sometimes even false hopes can make a difference. Why I didn’t end up in that white gown wasn’t for lack of trying or dreaming. I have an excellent memory and a particular interest in Science, especially Chemistry and Physics. But the thought of dissecting a cat already makes me want to throw up. I can’t be rational at the sight of pain, and blood and death. I probably wasn’t cut to become a doctor.

Anyway my name was called. A neurologist, a specialist in his field can’t give me answers as well. He needed a skull Xray to be sure, much to my panic. After the Xray I waited for the results. After what seemed like forever, the Xray was ready, but the doctor was gone. I’ve to be back today for the interpretation of the results, and hopefully some answers.

I never liked the hospitals, but somehow I have no choice. After this I’m headed there. Wish me luck.

Close to you

2006-03-21T17:41:00.000+08:00

Sunday night, end of my parents’ two-day visit, I found myself in Megamall, Cinema 12, in the seat probably nearest to the exit. I took this precaution as I was watching alone this time, you know, just in case somebody shouts fire or something, I’d be the first to run for my life. I figured it was kind of humiliating to die in a stampede over John Lloyd & Bea Alonzo’s Close to You. Para ka na ring nabangga ng isang Kia Pride na kinakalawang na (which would bring confusion as to whether you died of the impact or the infection).

I’ve never liked the Megamall cinemas but it just happened to be the only one still playing the movie. I’ve also never been a huge fan of the John Lloyd-Bea loveteam, though I raise my hat to John Lloyd for being a real good actor. I think Bea is a little too big for John Lloyd. I only like Sam Milby when he sings. Having said these, you might wonder if it’s any worth going out of my way to watch the movie by myself. I don’t know, there was just something about the plot that drew me. You know, the classic tale of best friends treading the line between friendship and love. Something like Julia Roberts’ My Bestfriend’s Wedding or Kung Ako na lang Sana (Aga & Mega) or Dawson’s Creek. Hmmm.. my story too…

Except that it was half-baked. Hilaw. Bitin. Ended before it even began. Or maybe I have only been imagining it in my head, that there could be a slight possibility of a love story coming out of a very close friendship I once had with my Dawson. Any feelings we both might have had that time, we had to restrain, for we both wanted things simple. Crossing the line would be much of a complication; especially we were both in our own relationships. I’m not sure how he really felt, but to me he became like my measuring cup that everyone else that came to my life later had to be gauged based on him.

Iba kase pag bestfriend mo. It felt so certain, and so easy; you can love like you’ll never get hurt. With him it was like riding on the waves, sometimes at the crest, sometimes, under; things and times that strengthened us, and tightened us together. I remember him: late night to 6am conversations about our disappointments in school, hopes for change and dreams for the future, exchange of impromptu poems, cutting classes together, sharing a hotel room (on one of the conventions we had) and he ending up playing the guitar until I fell asleep, getting terminated from the school paper together, fighting back together, winning the case together, getting our diploma together, board review together, failing together, finding our own roads separately, but still together in thoughts…

One day he told me he has fallen for one of our sisters in the fraternity, I broke down. It felt like I was going to lose him soon and without pride I asked him to choose me instead. He said I was like his shadow, his twin sister and he can never see me as someone more than that. I felt shamed. But later I gave him credit for his honesty. And myself, for taking the chance at least, and not ending up with the what if’s.

He decided not to pursue her, for my peace he said. I wasn’t sure if it helped that time, but after four years now, it didn’t really matter. Sometimes all you can really do is just be friends with the one you love.

Anyway, four years passed and I’ve forgotten about the romantic feelings I once had for him. Although once in a while thoughts play in my head, what if he chose me? Would it have ended happily ever after? What if he comes back now, what if… Silly thoughts…I have and will always be his shadow.

In the movie, Bea & John Lloyd made it together. Bea was torn between a habit (John Lloyd) and a dream (Sam Milby) and they say habits are hard to break. She chose her best friend over the man of his dreams. It was kind of a tough decision since Sam was near-perfect. Sam tickled her fancies, but it was John Lloyd who tickled her heart. Though it was a happy ending, I found myself fighting some grain of tears. I realize that’s the bad thing about watching a movie alone. You can’t empathize much with the scenes coz you’d look weird. It was a funny movie, but I had to control my laughter coz it felt awkward laughing alone.

It’s ok. Sometimes it feels good being single, but not really alone. Or maybe alone, but not really lonely.

Bye bye cobwebs...

2006-03-20T17:19:00.000+08:00

My parents were here Saturday & Sunday, finally after my 5 years of striving in this urban jungle. I requested for their visit. I was becoming pretty homesick these past few weeks, to the point of being literally sick. Sometimes these ill feelings somehow turn my mind into a spider that endlessly weaves cobwebs of worries, and fears and manic depression about my past, my present and my future; mostly about my future though. My friend calls it quarter-life crisis. The point where you ask yourself what you really want to do with your life and you haven’t got a single clue. Then after some thought, you tell yourself that all you want to do is be happy, but happiness seems like a very expensive pen that even after working for almost four years already, you still haven’t saved enough to be able to afford it. I don’t know what to call it, but I think my friend and I are pretty much on the same boat right now.

Anyway, those sad thoughts were temporarily brushed aside by my parents’ visit, which was a good thing, to save my sanity at least. I’ve been wanting to quit my job here and just go back to the province and live a simple dream. I missed my parents. But being with them for two days made me miss them much, much more than when they were in Bicol. My Mama’s white hair appeared to have tripled, my Papa seemed to have lost some weight, and some esteem too, as he had given into early retirement from his job due to internal pressures. I saw signs of aging, signs of time, signs of volatility, signs that we shouldn’t hold on too tight, but we should take all chances to show our love and be someone else’s happiness. When we hugged, I realized how long I’ve been out of our home. And how I couldn’t be there to be their responsible first-born and personally take care of them. How I couldn’t anymore pluck gray hair, or cut Papa’s nails. God I missed them.

Papa asked about my love life, all I could do was laugh and convince him it’s the least of my concerns right now, as I’ve been too busy with career and dreams and all. I couldn’t tell him I was sad, and still picking up the pieces of a shattered faith. I didn’t want to make him sad as well. I told him I wanted to go abroad and be filthy rich. Marriage? Bahala na. I don’t even have that much savings. He said I shouldn’t save too much for my wedding. He said it’s strengthening to experience struggling through life with the one you love. Ang importante, kasama mo siya. He wondered kung wala daw ba man lang nanliligaw. There were some of course, pero walang spark. He laughed at my answer, but I could tell there was a tinge of worry.

Then it was already time to go. Ang bilis ng oras. When I kissed them before the bus took off, I felt a tear was about to fall again. I stopped myself; I wanted to save them from worrying about me. I’m 25; I’m a big, tough girl now. I think I have been for the last 5 years, having survived the metro alone, and single most of the times. At least I’ve earned their trust in those 5 years. I’ve been a good girl too.

About my quarter-life crisis, I’d save that for another discussion. Meanwhile, my parents’ visit last weekend was like a broom that swept the cobwebs away. (sigh of relief)

Hmmm.. they should come here more often.

Part II

2006-03-14T17:08:00.000+08:00

So is it really over?

I feel like I still ought to ask myself this question, though I would like to think that it already is. It was, for a long time already. Until I heard about him again and waves came crashing into my once peaceful sea.

My friend says if he still has even the tiniest effect on you, then you aren’t over yet. I think that’s too much of a test. I mean, I have had four other relationships in the past, but even if I did feel bad when I learned about their weddings or how they looked good together with their current partners (better than we once did), I can swear I am completely over them. I’m even friends with most of them, all I mean (except with one I might have hurt pretty badly). Anyway, hearing them talk about how content they were with their present lives didn’t actually leave me feeling bitter. Maybe a little “what ifs” but that’s about it. No crying spree. No Joe d Mango moments.

But it felt weird with this other one. I made all sort of adjustments hopefully for a speedy recovery—moved to a new company and a new house, locked up things that bring back mem’ries of him – photos, mp3s, other things--but it seemed like the pill isn’t good enough. Or could it be that my predicament is incurable. Is there a cure for a badly broken heart?
They say time heals all wounds. My greatest fear is to end up having used up all my time to heal. The time I’d have recovered, I would have probably lost my time already.

I’m also thinking, maybe all my efforts to forget him would have been futile if I still haven’t found it in my heart to accept things as they happened. Up to recent days I would think of what I lack, or what I overdid, or what I did wrong that made him change his mind about me. I sometimes forget that it couldn’t have been just me. If he says he fell out of love, there’s no way you can force a man to stay.

I realize the reason I can‘t be friends with this one while I can still be chummy with the rest of my exes is the manner we have parted ways. As with the others, it was more or less a mutual decision. We thought it was for our own sake. We both agreed about it. As with this one, he had to close the door on me, I had to be Ms Pathetic to knock again. He fell out of it. I fell into it. It was a timing difference. The time I learned how he has grown on me, it was a little too late. I felt dumped, and nothing can be more painful. It’s the kind of pain that can make you remember for a long time. It’s the kind of pain that even time can’t remedy.

So how do you know it’s over?

I guess it’s not being able to talk about him and not feel a thing. It’s not being able to look him up in Friendster & not budge when you see “In a relationship”. It’s not about seeing him with another girl and shed not a single tear.

I guess it’s over when you’ve finally accepted the fact that his happiness lies with another person and not with you. That it isn’t because you were shorter, or weighed a little less, or that you needed a rebond to let your hair down or Likas papaya to get that elusive ‘kutis-artista’, or braces to be able to smile or that you weren’t his idea of a ‘girlfriend” that made him not choose you. The important thing is you did your part. You loved to the end, you loved to the best that you can. Then there shouldn’t be any regrets. Only hopes, that someday, the right one will knock at your door.

Love happens and when it happens to you, you just have to love all you can and be happy. If time takes it away, then let go. Don’t hold on too tight coz they say maybe something bigger will come and you'll need both hands to grasp it.

So is it really over?

I pray.

How can ‘over’ be really ‘over’?

2006-03-13T17:33:00.000+08:00

I had to rethink about this over the weekend, after one of my girlfriends somehow validated one of my fears— that after more or less eight months and relentless efforts to make myself forget, the anesthesia would soon wear off and the pain would still reach my heart. I have been doing okay for a while, okay as to be able to look him up in Friendster and not break down upon seeing the phrase next to his age, “In a relationship”, or okay that I’ve been able to go out on a few dates and not imagine his face when I look across my date, but as I’ve always feared of my own weakness, there I was, thinking again.

I can compare it to a wound that has scarred in the skin, but still bleeding inside.

I’m not sure why a simple story about my ex jumping from one relationship to another is making me write these things. It’s not as if it happened only now. It’s been like a repeated story told over and over again. What worries me is my reaction when it was brought up last Friday night. I only said that I’m saddened by the fact that all of my friends were right about him. He’d change girlfriends as though he were tearing off a page of a calendar. I was sad coz after he broke up with me to be reunited with his long-time ex, I did hope he’d finally settle, and that our breakup, and the many tears I poured would somehow be worth it. I was thinking maybe he just hasn’t found the one yet. But at the back of my mind I can hear myself, how is it that he could go on searching for the right one, and end up hurting people in the process?

One friend goes, ‘if you’re reacting that way, maybe you’re still not over him”. I shook my head. Of course I was over him. But you know what scared me suddenly; I was hearing voices in my head. When I got home early Saturday morning, I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t cry, like I used to, but I couldn’t sleep,

I swear I no longer love him. Neither do I hate him. But why, I’m hurting for him. Do you think I have moved on?

Tell me, how do you know “over” is really “over”?

To love with worlds apart

2006-03-09T17:33:00.000+08:00

Remember Lhiza, the one I was writing about some time ago? She was to leave for Canada to be with his hubby after more than two years of waiting. Well she left, a week ago. And today she sent some lovely photos of herself, his husband and the snow. Seems freezing cold in the picture, but you know the saccharine part of it, that despite the frosty backdrop, their smiles seem to me like the sun on a summer at the beach. Hmmm…happiness. Perhaps more like two years of longing and missing and loving bottled up and now the cork’s been popped out. It was definitely worth the wait.

This brings me to thinking about long distance relationships once again. I’ve been in one and sadly I was more a casualty than a survivor of it. But it’s worth mentioning that why it didn’t work out was entirely my own doing. I was the one who started having second thoughts. I was the one, who began asking, doubting, feeling insecure, helpless, hopeless, impatient, alone, uncared for. I was the one who got fed up with phone calls and emails and love letters because I longed too much to be able to touch his face. I was the one who thought that we were growing apart each day, and every waking hour I was loving a stranger. I was the one who lost faith in him, in me, in us together and our dreams. I was the liar who broke my promise to wait. I was the weakling who gave up. I don’t really know if anyone could relate to my reasons, but it wasn’t really easy for me.

Lhiza’s story was the exact opposite. They carried on for two years on just phone calls, emails, & YMs and their faith in each other’s word. When Gino’s family migrated to Canada after graduation, he left a promise to her that if she could wait, he would marry her after two years. He came home last year to marry her and we were there. We were teary-eyed. Gino left again after the wedding and after six months, they were back in each other’s arms and this time, for good.

I once happened to eavesdrop on Private Conversations with Boy Abunda, with guests Jolina and her boyfriend Bebong Muñoz who works in the States. They too have been on a long-distance relationship for years now but it seemed like they were never apart. Boy asked how they were able to manage loving while living on separate worlds (figuratively & literally) and Bebong was quick to answer, something to this effect, “It’s really simple, if you truly love someone and you believe you’ve already found the “one”, would you still look for somebody else?”

Long distance relationships could be high-maintenance. It could cost a great deal. But more than the phone cards, and the internet fees, the pain of wanting and needing someone who sits on the other end of the world, and waiting for the day you could finally be together is such a high price to pay. But this kind of relationship is all about sacrifice. It’s about putting up with cold nights, and letting the thought that someday you would feel his arms around you be your fire. If there is love, no amount of pain can make you turn back. If there is faith, no amount of loneliness can make you give up.

Pabili ng spark

2006-03-06T18:32:00.000+08:00

Bear with me.

First time ko kasi na mag-blog sa Tagalog at para bagang awkward pa sa simula. Hindi naman ako balikbayan, o masasabing nag-fifeeling lamang, mas komportable lang ako mag-express sa Ingles. Sa totoo lang, mas madami naman kasing adjectives sa Ingles ang nababagay sa mga emosyon na naglalaro sa aking isipan sa araw-araw. Mas madami din ang metaphors. Halimbawa gusto ko isulat “I feel like he left a big hole in my heart.” Sa Tagalog “Pakiramdam ko nag-iwan siya ng malaking butas sa aking puso”. Parang matatawa ka sa halip na mag-symphatize.

Mahirap talagang maglarawan sa Tagalog, lalo na’t hindi ko naman ganon ka-kabisado yung wika. Sa Bicol kasi ako lumaki at nag-aral, at tanging sa asignaturang (subject) Filipino lang namin ito ginagamit. Ingles kasi yung medium of teaching sa amin, at Bicol naman yung dialect. Kaya nga nung lumuwas ako ng Maynila para sa CPA Board Exams Review ay talagang nahirapan ako mag-Tagalog. Di ko maikakaila na ako’y isang promdi kasi may kakaibang punto at pagbigkas. Halimbawa ung mga salitang “kasi”, “hindi” at “bakit” na kapag binigkas ko ay may diin sa huli ay binibigkas pala dito ng mas malambot na “kase” , “hinde” at “baket”.

Anyway, sa halos limang taon ko na pamamalagi dito sa Maynila ay masasabi kong nakapag-adapt nako at halos di mo na din maiisip na isa akong probinsyana.

Pansin ko masyado yatang napahaba ang aking kwento. Sasabihin ko lang naman talaga na etong pagsululat ko sa Tagalog ngayon ay trip lang. Try lang. Wala lang. For a change.

Hayaan mo na akong magkuwento. Kahapon kasi, nagkita kami ng mga high school friends ko, nanood kami ng Pride & Prejudice at kahit medyo nahirapan kami intindihin yung English accent nila ay kinilig pa din kami kay Mr. Darcy. Palibhasa sa edad na 25 ay mga single pa din, maliban sa isa, na may masasabing love life. Pati sa kainan ay love pa din ang topic. Hindi naman masasabi na “undesirable” kasi kahit papano ay may mga nanliligaw din. Kaso, bakit kaya kahit maayos naman ang mga ito (physically, mentally & financially) ay hindi pa din makuhang tumibok ang puso? Para bagang may kulang pa din.

Spark yata ang tawag dun. Yung parang fireworks. Yung parang may paru-paro lagi sa puso mo, yung eyeball mo tila heart-shaped na din, sasakit na labi mo sa kakangiti habang iniisip mo siya. Parang nababaliw ka, nabubulag at yung mundo mo lumiliit.

Tingin ko naman sa spark, e chemistry. Parehong wavelength, tila may common ground, nagkakaunawaan kahit walang salita. Yung kahit magkaiba kayo, di nawawala yung tulay sa pagitan nyo. Di kailangang parehong-pareho yung hilig, o yung ugali o yung opinyon o paniniwala pero nag-cocomplement kayo sa isa’t-isa. Yung weakness niya, strength mo. Natututo kayo sa isa’t-isa. Parang ikaw yung paa, siya yung sapatos. The shoe fits.

Sa pagkakalarawan ko sa spark, parang tumataas kilay ko. Para naman kasing superhero yung hinahanap ko. Parang di mo naman agad yun malalaman sa isang tao hangga’t di mo binibigyan ng panahon na makilala. Kaso naman pag binigyan mo ng panahon, parang binigyan mo na rin ng pag-asa. Minsan mapapasubo ka, lalo na kung mabait naman. Kukumbinsihin mo na lang sarili mo, ang imporatante mahal ka, matututunan mo din siyang mahalin.

Di kaya mas unfair yun? Para sakin ang pinakaimportante yung honesty. Pero depende yun sa tao. Madami din naman dyan ang nagpapakasal sa mga iba’t-ibang kadahilanan maliban sa love pero over time tsaka mga pagsubok na din na napag-dadaanan na magkasama ay natuturuan din ang puso. Meron din naman na tila new year yung relationship sa dami ng fireworks at spark pero katulad ng fireworks, panandalian lang. Namamatay din. Nagkakasawaan din.

Gayunpaman, gusto ko pa din sana maramdaman yung mga paru-paru. Isa akong hopeless romantic at kahit 25 na ako ay umaasa pa din sa magic. Naniniwala kasi ako na pag may gusto ka at ipinagdasal mo ng nakapikit ang mata at taimtim sa puso ay ibibigay yun sayo. Naniniwala din ako na somewhere out there, may maliligaw at mahahanap yung sarili nya sa akin. Yung tipong kahit di ko man alam ang pangalan nya, alam ko kung ano magpapasaya sa kanya.

Kaya ko yatang tumandang dalaga na lang kesa mag-settle sa isang “pwede na” o “just for the sake of”. Nakakatakot mawalan ng ngipin at buhok mag-isa, pero mas nakakatakot yatang mabuhay sa pagpapanggap. Kung magpapakasal ako, kailangan mahal ko talaga. Kailangan may spark.

Kaso masyadong mailap at tila out-of-stock. Nakakatakot din pala mag-isa.

San ba kase pwede makabili ng spark?

Laid-back

2006-03-03T18:03:00.000+08:00

I think the problem with me is I easily get involved in things. And when I do, I cling to it with closed fists without me noticing that I’m slowly losing it. It’s probably got to do with my incalculable proverbial “losses” that the idea of having to go through it again petrifies me. I could also be overly conscious about the truth that everything in this world is transient, like nobody would have known that another earthquake is to happen tonight, tomorrow or when I one day decide to go watch a movie alone.

I feel like everything in this world is like a candle on a stormy night. And so maybe I’m desperate at making every moment last.

It’s not that bad. At least it has taught me the value of time and life in general. I used to be very prospective, I’ve always lived my present with my future at the back of my mind. Something like, if I screw up today, there’s always tomorrow to make up for things I didn’t do so right.

I had this long-range plan in my organizer with specific timeframes. Like I should be married at age 25 and a CPA-Lawyer at age 28. I’m 25 and I’m constantly teased about being a member of T.I.I.S (Tang-i_a I’m single!). I’m a CPA alright, but becoming a lawyer to me now seems like fighting windmills. But you know what, I don’t really feel bad.

Now it’s more about enjoying life’s simple pleasures and spending as much time with friends and family. I like the laid back feeling--- no plans, no worries, no excess mental baggage… Just going through life as it comes, without expectations.

At the end of the day, all I want is to be able to wear a smile before I close my eyes.

Unready

2006-03-02T19:19:00.000+08:00

I was on the 9th floor when the earth shook last night. It was scary, pretty much the kind that would make you call all the saints and wish for one more day to do your shoulda’s and make peace with the world. I thought, I was only in the first quarter of my life (if I ever live to be a hundred), and the sky’s the limit to the things I still hope to accomplish. I knew I was never ready yet.

I think...

2006-03-01T19:23:00.000+08:00

This is to recompense for my lack of position in what I have written last Friday in the heat of the national emergency. Let me use my being short of information on the ongoing political upheaval as my excuse. I claimed to have been following the current affairs in our country, but perhaps not as much as I have been watching Pinoy Big Brother without fail. I have not really been aware of the facts about what is pushing the people to the streets until this weekend when much debate has been going around as an offshoot of PGMA’s “timely” issuance of Proclamation 1017 on the very anniversary of the 1986 People Power.

Many call it a betrayal of EDSA. On the day we vowed never to let anyone seize our hard-won sovereignty, we find ourselves once again living the old days, the kind that strikes a chord of fear in our hearts. We saw the cancellation of all permits to rally, warrantless arrests of “suspected” conspirators to the supposed “coup plots”, Daily Tribune raided for “seditious” commentaries, media bullied to adhere to “government standards” in reporting. On the very day a dictator was vanquished, a potential dictator looms anew.

We saw the president invoking emergency powers to “protect” the state, which to me seems more like a desperate act to protect herself instead; perhaps to secure the “seat” that’s been the very cause of this continuing political warfare. As questions about the legitimacy of her presidency appear too strong as to hold water and shove people to the streets, she finds herself in panic, and at the end of her tether to make her do the unreasonable.

My favourite columnist Conrado de Quiroz recently wrote (I can’t remember the exact words but perhaps to this effect) “they have stolen pretty much everything from us, must they steal our freedom too?” Yes, our right to peaceful assembly, our right to free speech. I’m thinking, she seemed to have taken a lot of things from us, including our votes (which to me is the most valuable of all).

She made a public apology for her lapse of judgement in the Hello Garci scandal that secured her victory in the 2004 elections. But after the dramatic “sorry”, it was like “forgive & forget” for most of us. The impeachment proved to be a futile effort against somebody who had stronger allies in the house. She got away with it, and most of us didn’t even budge. We seemed to have lost all alternatives to only settle for somebody who has just admitted her dishonestly and compromised her integrity. Either we are content or we have grown tired to fight.

I believe, somehow we also have a share in the responsibility for our ailing country.

If not for the people gathering in Ayala last Friday, I would not have seen the magnitude of this political crisis clouding our country. For this I am shamed. It’s bad enough that I do not know. I’ve made it worse by my apathy. Count me among the statistics of millions of this kind. People like me who last Friday cared more about work getting suspended so that we could all go home early than assert my right to be heard and my liberties to be safeguarded.

But who can blame people like me, who have grown tired of going around this vicious cycle of corruption, destabilization, deception? We saw EDSA 1 & 2 & 3 and nothing has really changed. How many people power must we still stage to ever learn the lessons of history? Can we be questioned for having lost our faith in our people and in the government? If we have given up any hope, if we’ve become so content. If the only feasible option is to flee to pastures where the currency is strong and crooks are behind bars, instead of being congressmen, senators, or even presidents.

There are a millions of us all wanting to escape. This I think is one of the reasons we will never achieve democracy in the most possible sense of the word.

What we need to achieve is a sense of nationalism. Nationalism is the way to true democracy.

To love one’s country the way we love ourselves; to aim the best for our country the way we aim the best for ourselves. I feel sad when I hear good doctors in our country studying to become nurses to sponge down American asses. When can there be better opportunities for our countrymen so as not to see our skilled workers doing better in foreign lands? We must help our country, the way we help ourselves. This I believe is mightier, than going to the streets and creating noises and scaring investors and making the situation worse than it already is.

This sense of nationalism is the very cost of our many freedoms won, from the Spaniards, the Americans, the Japanese’s, the Marcoses. How could it be any different from the present government? We have seen the examples of Rizal, Bonifacio, Aguinaldo, and Aquino --- heroes who have put the country’s interest above anything else. People who believed that our country is worth dying, and living for.

If the president, and all our government leaders and all of us Filipinos think this way, there is still hope for our country.

State of Emergency

2006-02-24T17:05:00.000+08:00

I’ve never been that into politics, but the last few days, I couldn’t help it any longer. While I’m writing this, a throng of angered protesters are marching to the Ninoy Aquino monument in Ayala, just right across the building where my office is. I knew it was EDSA’s 20th anniv today but the ironic news was it’s also been declared a state of emergency. All permits to rally has been cancelled, warrantless arrests have been made, and the media is being held in the neck. These are the makings of a martial rule that was toppled exactly twenty years ago.

If not for the rain of texts & YMs and live feeds from TV on the coup attempts and enraged rallyists calling for GMA to step down, I wouldn’t have known at all. This is not to say I do not have a care in the current national affairs, I do, I really do. Sometimes it can become too stressful to think of it a lot & hopeless most of the time. Like in my head I couldn’t possibly come up with something close to a cure to our diseased political system; who am I to say then that ousting GMA would bring an end to this war?

Couldn’t help but wonder what exactly are these people fighting for?

I’ve never been a fan of GMA, but I couldn’t even think of a name of a better alternative. I mean, given that she steps down, who would take over? Though I’m a true-blue kapamilya, Noli de Castro didn’t even cross my mind. But having said that I didn’t really mean that I support GMA. Perhaps until her term ends this 2010 (given that she won the election fair & square; otherwise it’s a different story) But hearing about Cha-Cha and her persistent efforts to move to a parliamentary form of government and her claim to being the best person to lead in the transition government until 2010, I somehow understand what the people down there are taking water cannons for.

They’re there because of an impending threat to the democracy that has been hard-won 20 years ago. Perhaps to guard the guarantees of freedom EDSA has won for us. Perhaps to take watch. Perhaps to keep the spirit of EDSA alive.

I’m wearing yellow today, without deliberate effort on my part. But I’m happy I did. In my heart I would like to go down there (not because Kris Aquino & James Yap are there as well) but to speak and be heard. But I certainly wouldn’t want my dad to get worried (he’s been texting me since this morning and asking me to go home).

Perhaps I’ll just join in prayer, that God would purify politics & politicians. And deliver us from this state of emergency.

What loneliness does

2006-02-23T17:29:00.000+08:00

You know what my mind says right now? HOME.
I think about Mama and Papa and my sibs and it isn’t such a nice feeling, as though this thought is like a blue dye to my brown eyes. I miss them like I miss a soothing back massage, or the divine King Crab I had in Singapore or the feel of warm sand on my bare feet. I miss them like I want to run to them at this very hour. But they’re eight hours away from where I’m sitting now.
The last time I went home, was Christmas last year. Then I had to go back to work for the remainder of the year. As much as I so desperately wanted to spend the New Year at home, I wasn’t able to get a ticket to Bicol, and so I had to welcome the New Year at my friend’s house. They were the warmest hosts, but while watching the fireworks in the sky at midnight, it felt like I was going to be like the sky after the fireworks were gone. I realized then it was the first time I spent the New Year away from home.
It occurred to me, it’s actually been five years since I left home to live my dreams elsewhere. HERE. In this so called corporate jungle. If you’d ask me how I’ve done so far, I could only scratch my head. Yep, it’s been truly rewarding, moneywise, experiencewise, —my horizons including my perspective have been wider than ever. But at the back of my head, the one simple question that I’ve been dreading to ask myself was “am I happy?”. At the end of the day, can I actually say to myself it’s all worth it?
For weeks I’ve had this dilemma playing in my head like a clock. I’m caught between continuing to live my dreams and going home to find myself.
Home:
Family
I miss my Papa’s adobo , sinigang sa kalamansi, lechon kawali & laing
I can save a lot, my outflows would practically be just my fare.
Going to work would only take about 5 minutes.
I can work and still pursue Law.
I can teach like I’ve always dreamt of
De-stressed life
A cup of coffee wouldn’t cost a hundred bucks
Some things are even for free
I can water my mama’s garden.
I can watch the moon, I can even count the stars
The air is kinder for my lungs.

Here:
Money- basically to make me capable of buying my happiness
Challenge
Experience
Larger territory
Shopping
Better opportunities
Independence
Closer to going abroad

To weigh these things isn’t easy as it may seem. The only question really is where I imagine my happiness lies. This is the real problem. Perhaps if we could have a straight and simple answer to that, then I could rest my case. But if defining our happiness is simple as that, then what are we really living for?

Ah.. twisted thoughts I have. Let me just go back to where I started. I miss my family. I miss HOME. Sometimes missing the ones you love put words in your head. Just what loneliness can do..

To date again

2006-02-22T17:42:00.000+08:00

I just agreed to go out on a date with a guy friend this morning. It’s not like I said yes to a marriage proposal or something. Just a movie for heaven’s sake. Haha.. maybe I just feel funny feeling weird and scared and tangled and cautious and overwhelmed all at once. It’s been over eight months (if my math is correct). And about six promising relationships gone off course. If I could touch my heart now and feel if the bruises have gone…sometimes I kind of worry.

Burn

2006-02-21T17:17:00.000+08:00

A woman living in a grand house may pride herself on all her lovely things; but the moment she hears the crackle of fire, she decides very quickly which are the few she value most. In the days that followed, I certainly came to feel that my life was burning down around me, and yet when I struggled to find even a single thing that would still matter to me, I’m sorry to say that I failed.
- Memoirs of a Geisha

- I could nearly say the same right now. = (

Dawson

2006-02-20T17:22:00.000+08:00

In college there was this guy, in my heart I’ve always called Dawson. He never knew about the name, but he knew his place in my life, my dependency on him (I would constantly remind him of that). More than my brother in the fraternity and my only guy best friend, he was also the reason college was the best time of my life.

In many ways, I could say his life and mine were intertwined and I loved him as my best friend.

Looking back, I’d always end up pretty stunned… Having a guy best friend --- it’s like royalty. It’s like being the queen, and having a jester by your side. It’s like forgetting about time, and tossing your fears to the wind. It’s like running away and laughing like crazy. I remember a time when my lips started to hurt because even while I was asleep, I never lost the smile. When my own love affairs get messed up, he was my crying shoulder.

Then graduation came, and it was time to go.

For the longest time, we’ve not talked to each other the way we used to. We had our separate dreams to live, and own love stories to write. After board exams I started working, while he pursued his life-long dream to become a lawyer. We never got the chance to be there for each other. And the sea between us got bigger and deeper.

At times I’d imagine myself screaming Dawson to the wind, in my foolish hopes that he’d pop out and lend his shoulders again, whenever I had my heart broken. And during those times the only presence I felt was his absence. I’ve actually forgotten how it felt having strong shoulders to carry the weight of my tears.

I really missed him, and I so wished he wasn’t so far away, but I realized maybe I was being taught to draw my own strength and my independence. I wouldn’t be rescued forever.

He texted last Friday and somehow the old days came back with a taste of the sun at night.

To know that my Dawson was still there, it felt nice.

Feb 14 2006

2006-02-15T17:57:00.000+08:00

Drowned ourselves with coffee and theories and some lights, recollection of a thousand good memories, and pictures of more to come-- dreams, fears, love stories, questions, some answers, a venti of laughters, a really great valentines. Thanks to alma, zarah & gee… caffeine put me to a sweet, good night sleep—err.. 2:00 am na pala. =)

Those Valentines

2006-02-14T16:54:00.000+08:00

I was telling my friend yesterday how Valentines pretty much reminds me of the people who came and loved and left me for the past six years—things like where we spent that day, the flowers I got, the happiness I felt, the unhappiness I feel now.

Last year in Chocolate Kiss Café, lovely piano and three long-stemmed pink roses.

Last, last year in Baguio, all chilly and tender and romantic , one red rose and a stuffed puppy that says I love you.

The year before that, Café Angelo, 3 pink tulips and an adorable stitched bear begging for love.

Before that, Sunken Garden, red roses and love.

Six years ago, at school, no flowers but his heart.

I’m counting and I couldn’t help but wonder how I ended up with that list in just six years. From where I am standing now , I somehow feel a little bad.

On second thought I almost forgot I have a date tonight.

Me, and my best girl friends.

Not bad.

Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda

2006-02-13T18:31:00.000+08:00

"Shoulda’ woulda’ coulda are the last words of a fool. "
-Beverly Knight, Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda

Guess I could call myself a fool then.
Why, I’m thinking of a thousand things I should have done differently.
1. I should have taken a Major in Film or Arts or Creative Writing.
2. Given that I have taken Accountancy & miraculously passed the Board, I should have practiced my profession in an audit firm or taught in a university.
3. I should have learned how to swim when I was six.
4. I should have taken good care of my eyes (and teeth hehe)
5. I shouldn’t have had my feet wet right after school. (now my varicose veins are horrible).
6. I should have studied how to play the piano and sing without raising hell.
7. I should have smiled more often.
8. I shouldn’t have skipped meals.
9. I shouldn’t have stopped writing.
10. I should have been friendlier.
11. I shouldn’t have been such a cry baby.
12. I shouldn’t have said goodbye to the persons who’d never dare say goodbye.
13. I shouldn’t have said yes to the persons who’d say no in the end.
14. I should have been more faithful, and brave and content.
15. I shouldn’t have been so reckless and impulsive and selfish.
16. I shouldn’t have let chances slip away, like my chance to be happy, and my chance to live my dreams.

THE LIST is long.. Did I say I had a thousand of them? Guess that makes me an even bigger fool. And so constantly I’d shake my head, so that I’d gain my way ticket back to reality and accept things as they are. They were nobody else’s doing, but mine, after all.

“ It was like pulling nails from the wall.”
-Nitta Sayuri, Memoirs of a Geisha

My crying, faint heart

2006-02-08T13:42:00.000+08:00

Today I woke up with that familiar soreness again. It’s weird how much the ‘hurt’ really sticks. Sometimes I wish I had a heart made of Teflon. Or maybe have a part of my memory erased, like the one they did to Ben Affleck in Payback. It would have been much simpler for cases of post-separation depression such as mine. For some time I was really in sync with my mind, about letting the wind dance between my present and my past, somehow for a taste of fresh air—ummm-- new life. I could look back and still come out intact. But how long can you hold a fragile heart? Sometimes a thought pops in your mind, and like needle to a big balloon, all the peace is shattered. And then come sleepless nights, and a damp pillow. My crying, faint, vulnerable heart. How do you make the walls around it stronger to welcome thoughts about the past without hurting so much? When can I wake up and not feel the way I felt this morning? When can you ever say it’s totally over?

Fun

2006-02-03T20:21:00.000+08:00

I got this text message from a friend asking for one word that could best describe her and this is to be passed around to other friends to also give you an idea what others think about you. I gave her that 1-word, alright, but I was mum about the idea of passing it along…I thought, do I need other people telling me I’m either an angel or a brute? Hmmmnn…On second thought, would somebody really think I’m that bad? Of course you can guess what happened next…And you probably wouldn’t believe some of the answers, but my dear, you have to!

Precious- Sis Deo, my little sister in the sorority
Brilliant – Melba, my best friend in grade school
Star – Marianne, my best friend at home
Extraordinaire –Josielie, my best friend in high school
Magnanimous- Allan, my guy best friend
Malu-pet – Vileo, my good friend

(Yep, pretty mighty words they have there… How many best friends can one have in a lifetime? For a single moment I felt like a real star …haha)

Responsible –Sahlee (hmmmn… I didn’t know that)
Pretty (2 )- Ella, Jay (Yup, 2 of them said I was,and I wanted to bat my eyelashes this very second)
Gorgeous- Bimbo-licous (magpapalibre lang to, I swear)
Sweet (2)- Alms, Lorie (wow that’s sweet..)
Fashionista – Jec (What gave you that idea…)
Reese- Princess (as in Witherspoon- winks, winks)
Belly dancer –Mersi (I didn’t know you were looking)
Lemon-Naomi (so you can make lemonades…)
Hopeless Romantic (1 word ?) –Jackie, Renan (story of my life)
Unpredictable- Ana A. (totally!)
Human- Ana M. (but of course…)
Hilarious- Chee (never a dull moment)
Bangaw??? – Brod emil (better explain..)

Well, try it yourself. I had big fun…

Hmmmm...

2006-02-02T19:13:00.000+08:00

I'm terribly busy-- exactly what happens when you take two holidays off. My inbox is all red,
and yeah, it's monthend, and my partner is on leave for her honeymoon... which leaves me all by myself, pretty buried in "things", you know and my mind kinda pre-occupied with too many cares.. The best part of the day is the thought that it's Friday tomorrow, oh I can't wait...
Anyways, just some thoughts I picked up when I was emptying my mailbox...

"I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she
handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled
Christmas tree lights."

"I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on
both hands; you need to be able to throw some things back."

"I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one."

I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget
what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

Two Wedding and Two Holidays..

2006-02-01T19:49:00.000+08:00

01.28.2006 Charie’s Wedding

Her wedding was a celebration of love. And on top of it, it was also a reunion of old friends. I was just happy I was there.

01.29.2006 Tin’s Wedding

Surreal, that’s how I’d describe it. My first time to be in a garden wedding, and it kind of left me pretty stunned. You see a golf course with all the greens and the soft winds and the lake, and the perfect skies… Then a beautiful serenade and bubbles carried by the wind, and then you’d see your friend in white, starting to walk one of the most memorable walks of her life, and everywhere you gaze people are misty-eyed…who wouldn’t be touched, by the magic that is love?

01.30-31.2006 Singapore Holidays

Home, with my bed, my book and my TV. The only time I got to see the sun was when my stomach started grumbling aarrgghhh at utter starvation. It was such a luxury, just lying and thinking, and watching and sleeping and eating and for once, not working … Luuuuvvvvvvvvv it!!!!

Lhiza dearie

2006-01-26T17:30:00.000+08:00

My good friend Lhiza is leaving in about four weeks, not for a vacation or business trip or something temporary. She’s going to Canada to live there for good. Her husband has been waiting for her for years already; it’s about time she packs her suitcase, and her mind I guess, with some mem’ries from home and take that plane.

Four weeks, that could seem a little far still, but I’d take no chance with time. The next thing I’ll know I’ll be getting postcards from Vancouver, and I wasn’t even able to wish her my farewell.

So Lhiz, while I’ve enough time, I’d like to send you my best wishes, and a little thanks for so many great times.
I’m half-thrilled, half-gray for you. I’m happy that you would finally be reunited with your hubby Gino, and together you’d chase the dreams you have for each other (and future babies, woohoo).

I’m sad coz I’ll really miss you.

Though we’ve not really been seeing each other as constantly (moving to another company, being busy and all), it’s different when we’re already continents apart. I just hope the distance wouldn’t grow that far. You promise me I’m joining you there pretty soon (hehe wag ka ma-pressure, I really wouldn’t need a spouse hehe)…

My thanks for one great gift of friendship.

Bon Voyage!

Happy, again

2006-01-25T16:13:00.000+08:00

I missed writing yesterday, I was pretty engaged, plus there really wasn’t anything grand to tell. I had this 5-hour training about money markets and fixed income securities--- stuffs that were totally alien to me. I was completely stumped at terms like discounting and present value and yield-to-maturity, I almost forgot I was a CPA, who endured 4 gruelling years of accounting education and a board exam that had 80% mortality rate. As always, I’ve found myself a reasonably convincing excuse for that. My three year-work experience as a “financial analyst” did not touch those things; I’m still quite wondering what the title was for at least.

Anyway, forget the training; forget my profession gone off course, forget how dreary my day is today or my nagging headache. Also forget that my love life is nil right now. Or that I’d be sleeping alone tonight, since my roommate had to go home to the province for her wedding on Sunday. Forget that everybody’s getting married these days while I’m still suffering post-break-up attacks at the sound of familiar songs that used to make my eyes turn heart-shaped. Like Especially for you or Till they take my heart away aarrgh.

For today I’d like to forget that my life isn’t as promising as I’ve always pictured it to be. I’d like to forget about unfinished businesses, remorse, regrets, failed dreams and affairs, anything that would sting my eye and make me cry and dehydrated and depressed. I’d like to think of happy things. Happy endings, happy dreams, happy thoughts. Maybe count my blessings…

What do I have—a great family, great friends, great job, great imagination …Oh the list is long, could bore you to death…

Hmmmn.. This feels nice… I ought to do this more often…=)

Interesting

2006-01-23T17:31:00.000+08:00

Let me just say I had quite an interesting moment last Friday. There was this couple's shower for an old colleague who’s getting married this Saturday. It took them a couple of persuasions before I finally agreed to go, my hesitation built on the thought of possibly seeing my ex again. Not that I’m still into him, I have spent the last five months forgetting and ‘restoring’ parts of me I lost owing to my own tolerance . As much as possible, I just would like to avoid such encounters; I don’t completely trust myself on relationship affairs. I’ve known of my own tendencies to lose my defenses over one smile, or one of those looks or even that silence so I try as hard to keep my guard.
Okay, so I didn’t really want to see him. Then suddenly I see him walking past me, while I was misty-eyed at chopping white onions for the nachos. There goes my interesting surprise. The person I was trying to steer clear of for the longest time sees me in an almost forlorn state. I had onions all over my hands and the smell of it all over my body. With grains of sweat on my face, unkempt hair and my make-up gone, I remembered still having managed to smile at him. Then he gives me that obligatory nod and ouch, I knew I still need to work hard on the “forgetting” part.
Anyway, for my pride’s sake, I tried to look casual, wearing a brave front the entire evening, even when we were paired up in one of those games that required physical contact. The next interesting part was that we were supposed to be three in the team, and the third member was the girl of my ex’s current dreams, which he denies of course. But Sir Ray laughs off, ‘actions speak louder than words’. So the game began, my left hand over her right, his right leg over hers, her left leg over mine---three of us intertwined, it would have made such an interesting picture.
Anyway, the complicated part is that I adore this girl, because she’s really sweet and true to me. Whatever’s cooking should be the least of my concern right now. That’s the reason they call it ex, it’s history.
My excuse for that, it’s always easier said than done.
Imagine what I had to give up to get myself back, to prove to myself my independence and capacity to be happy with or without other people. Or let’s dismiss the part about “proving” anything to anyone. I did make some sacrifices because I wanted to help myself.
For some time I was convinced I’ve healed completely. Seeing him last Friday was fine, but feeling awkward, and weird and affected around him, I disliked it. I still felt some strange things in my heart, as though he’s crushed it again. For that I'd like to reproach myself but hell, I can't deny.

Thank God it’s Friday

2006-01-20T17:39:00.000+08:00

Nothing special happened, nothing noteworthy. Except for the fact that today’s Friday and tomorrow I’d spend a lot more hours in bed than I did this morning. My eyes still hurt you know. Probably from disturbed sleep. Probably from thinking again. I don’t know with this bustling mind of mine. In the morning it’s usually blank. Then at night my head gets so heavy with too many thoughts that I could barely move. Ah, enough of this. I’m just grateful it’s Friday. I have a smile stretched from ear to ear.

Happy last night

2006-01-19T14:46:00.000+08:00

I had a grand time last night, partly nostalgic at the sight of old faces and smiles, but mostly overjoyed to be home again. It felt nice finding myself back to my erstwhile office which somehow became my sanctuary for the last three years. It gave me my second job, a wider perspective and unimaginable patience, a couple of good mentors, friends for keeps, an ex-boyfriend, and a share of bad and beautiful memories.

Well it wasn’t really that bad. It’s more of waking up one day and suddenly feeling like it’s gotten too crowded that you’re almost immobile… And then you look at your face and you’re reminded that you’re 25 and what? You can’t think of something significant to add that would somehow fill in the 4 years that passed since you got off from college with your dreamy eyes.

While your contemporaries are driving their own Escape, or walking around Manhattan or in that road they call “marital bliss”, you’re stuck. I guess the only way to move on is to move out. So I quit my job and found a better place. It’s airy and corporate and it’s got a lot of room for my growing perspective. Thanks to my ex-boyfriend, who turned out to be my biggest pain, he actually helped expedite my walking out of the office less the melodrama.

Five months after and there I was last night and I was happy. Of course I missed most of them. I realized while writing this that I had the best time of my life there, and found my most treasured friends. I got all the compliments and well wishes and the looks on their face when they saw me somehow summarized it all. I made the right choice to leave. It was a risk that paid off so well.

He came back

2006-01-18T16:32:00.000+08:00

Sometimes, something wonderful happens in our dreams that waking up to the sight of the ceiling in our bedroom always feels like a nightmare. That was exactly how I felt this morning, when I woke up to the ringing of my phone. For the longest time I’ve not had a recollection of such kind. But last night was special. It was like an old beautiful dream that I’ve always carried in my mind and so this morning when I opened my eyes, I cried. I tried closing my eyes again, but I instantly lost it.

It was about someone from my past. I often call him “the one who got away”, but it was by all means my own doing. Maybe he’s really “the one I sent away”. He seemed like my only chance for the so-called “one great love”, and I was this cute little fool who threw it away.

In my dream he came back. Even after I left him for another love. He was still the same good person who loved me even when I looked half-baked, with my rebellious hair, thick eyebrows and Bugs Bunny teeth. He came back to buy me dinner. He came back to give me that tight little squeeze he used to give me when I feel cold and it somehow reached my heart. He came back to flash that smile that made me crazy for years. He came back to start again, from where we left off, six or seven years ago. He came back without the past. All my dreams before, they were silent pictures. But in this one dream, I heard the familiar voice that used to carry me to sleep. I heard him say the words again. It was like a Josh Groban to my ears.

Then my phone rang, and I was thrown back to reality. How bad could that be?

I’ve kept him out of my mind for a long time and so I’m surprised how all of a sudden he’d show up in my dreams. I honestly don’t have a clue where he could be right now, or how has he been? Is he seeing someone? Is he married? Is he still that charming, skinny boy that got me in love at first sight? Does he still have my ring, even in an old box maybe? Or the rosary that made him cry on our first Christmas party? Or the book of our theme songs I put together the day before he left? Does he still have my heart, even in his memory? What am I thinking? It’s been six years.

He could still know my name, plus a few sad memoirs. But the girl he loved, the girl who once loved him? Time can do so much.

I’m shaking my head for these foolish feelings again. Perhaps I will just linger in the thought that he came back for me, even for a night. Even in my dreams.