Love Letter No. __.

 

 

Dear You, 

Last night, in between that unrecognizable silence after the first song and before the next, I would find myself reaching out for your hand, only that I did not see your hand, and more significantly, that you were not there. I did look for you, in the crowd, so exhaustively that it seemed appropriate to shout. 

Breaking away from the party, I looked up and watched in awe as colors burst from the sky. While altering smiling with smoking, with resignation I told myself, "It is true. Some things are meant to be shared with you." 

Merry Christmas, Darling. Mistletoes suck without you.

Cheers,

Me.

Love and Football

I think, LOVE really is more like football, you work hard in trying to defend your goal, and it takes some time before you can score a point or two, but when you do, everyone who’s been watching you and supporting you from the sidelines celebrate with you. And even if you don’t, you’ll be happy to call it a day, hope for the best and be thankful that you survived the game, with a little muscle pain to remind you of how tough it is to be in THAT field.

Most importantly, if you’re lucky, THERE WILL BE HOT, SHIRTLESS MEN waiting for you in the locker room. Bright side, people, bright side.

-"Until Then, Twenty Ten"  

The Law and Economics of Lust, Love and Life

Kapanahunan nanaman...

... ng mga malalamig na mga gabi, 
... ng bibingka, puto-bumbong at simbang gabi.
... ng bigayan ng regalo, tanggapan ng regalo, batuhan ng regalo.
... ng mga hawakan ng kamay, bahaginan ng salaysay, labing nagdadantay, 
... ng paglalambingan. kasentihan, masinsinang usapan at "emotional"  sapakan.

PASKO na... susundan nanaman ang TALA.

 

"You know that thing that when God closes a door, he opens a window? Well, sometimes out of nowhere he’ll throw you one better. He’ll take a whole wall down... "

-GLEE 2.08 "FURT"

The Rambling

Here’s what I need you to do. I need you to get over yourself and stop basking in the glory of being my “the one.” And when I blog about love, please don’t arrogantly presume that it is your love that I speak of.

When people tease me about not being able to move on from this one great love, don’t give me that knowing smile that glorifies your certainty of it being you.

If I say that I don’t like playing games anymore, don’t silently contemplate on what you did to make me think that you’re playing with me and my stupid heart and effin’ with my brain.

And when I say I still love him, never ever walk away. Because even if these things that you are sure of are absolutely true, one thing remains the same… I want to be friends with you. Not to wait for your love nor to make you realize that it is I who am destined to be with you, but to make you understand that in the same way that I consider you to be one of my best friends, I am yours too.

That’s what still matters. That’s what still counts.

Now, what are you still doing in that pretending-to-be-discreet corner, awkwardly looking at me from afar?

Throwing the Trash

 

When you make fun of my heart,

You don’t make fun of me

But of the you that my heart

Found so worthy to love.

 

When you mock what I felt,

you don’t mock my love

But the friendship

that we once so proudly spoke of.

 

When you make fun of yourself

and decide to mock this friendship,

You help me not regret

pretending we never met.

 

Now, go play with your friends,

while I continue loving mine.

The Quitter

VALUABLE THINGS

CUSTOMIZED LOVE

The Why's of Today

Promising Things

http://thebestfriendtheory.blogspot.com

The Missed Moment

Here we are, having coffee at the exact table where we’d write messages on napkins, suggest songs to listen to, find reasons to talk under the guise of casual cigarette breaks and pretend to study. I can’t believe it’s been years. Looking at her now, one moment kept playing in my head, a moment that happened three years ago.

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I knew she was secretly staring at me. Through her sunglasses, I can feel her gaze. She wants to say something and is finding it hard to start, being adorably cute that way. To end her misery, I looked up, and met her implied gaze.  “What?”

She found her opening, took no time and ranted, “I don’t understand why I, someone who has so much love to give, cannot seem to find someone to give my love to.” She closed her book and looked at me expectantly. I know that “wide-eyed” look, it’s her signature expression when she needs me to do something for her. At this point it was clear that she wanted me to give her the explanation to such an obviously silly question.  But there was a sense of urgency in her tone, it sounded like answering it was the most important thing in the world.

“Don’t worry. For all you know, he’s just around, waiting for you to figure it out.” I lit my nth cigarette for the evening, taking my cue. She dictates our breaks. But she wouldn’t admit that, she’d always come up with lines like,

“Hey, you don’t have to stop studying ha?” And she lit a stick too, further demonstrating the lack of sincerity in her disclaimer. “Anyway, eh, where is HE? SERIOUSLY? I think there’s a CONSPIRACY here. A lot of my friends, the really caring and loving ones are single. It’s like the universe is sending the message that well, WE  are not ENOUGH. I AM NOT ENOUGH.” She was waving her hands methodically, aiming to emphasize the words “conspiracy, I  and enough.

“You are a drama queen.  And believe me, you are more than enough. “She rolled her eyes and started to type on her laptop. Later that night, I’d read a blog entry that says,

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I have it all figured out. Why haven’t you?

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Looking back, I still am left wondering why I didn’t just hold her highlighter-busy hand and say, “To ME, you are more than enough,”

“You missed the moment.” I heard her say.

Startled, I asked, “Ha?”

“I just told you I’m engaged! You missed the moment!” Faking a “hurt expression”, she was smiling and pouting, oblivious to what was going through my mind. “You probably don’t remember, but three years ago, a wise man told me that I’m more than enough. I believed him. And so, here I am. Happy.”

“That was so wise of that wise man.”


So foolish of that foolish heart.

From Nothing

Love and Fear

The Negative Pregnant

Reality and Madness

The One You Know

This scene is too familiar. I know and remember their faces, the tone of their laugh, the way they hold their glasses and raise them for another foolishly pointless toast. Everything looks the same, yet, somehow, they seem totally different.  

“Stay.” I heard him whisper as he put his arm around me, comfortably, almost arrogantly. I remained still, refusing to be disrupted in my contemplation. “The you that I know will stay. For me.” He added.

Without looking at him, I answered. “Exactly.”  Then I walked away. As a half smile escaped my lips, I silently told myself, “This is for me.”

The Correspondence

Dear You,

Please do not think that I have, even for a second, forgotten my quest to finally find you, to finally find us. I do get it. I do get why I haven’t met you yet. I sometimes find myself uttering defensive statements like, “I don’t see myself getting married in the near future, not even in the far future.” Or “I am content with being who I am, single and fabulous.”, and honestly, I mean them. Not to be defeatist or anything, but I find it imperative for me to first be happy with being with myself before I, or should I say, we can delve into the matter that is US.

You have become my most cherished thought, my constant answer to the question, “What else should I look forward to?” At this point, besides true financial freedom and everything that comes with financial wealth, I have achieved what I’ve planned to achieve at twenty six. Yes, there are a few imperfections that are in need of tweaking, and yes, there are bumps on the road that may feel and look more like roadblocks than bumps, but they don’t bother me anymore. I don’t see them as roadblocks but as guides. These guides, I believe, will lead me to you.

Here comes the romantic part of the letter. It is meant to be a love letter after all, for you, and about you. I know that either way, with love, you should be able to accept me for who I am, and by now, it is quite clear that who I am and who I will be is something that I have control over. I have come to love myself because I want to give justice to my love for you. I don’t want to be a hypocritical lover because hypocritical love is the worst love. I breathe for myself, live for myself and love for myself not to be selfish but to be able to selflessly surrender to you… at my best. There is no rush for you to get here and well, there is no rush on my end to get there either. You should probably take your time in the same way that I am taking mine.

Be still, even if we are reminded daily of the dilemma of how short life is. I don’t deny it. It is very true. Yet I feel that we don’t need to cram. Remember that when we finally meet, (notice how I say “WHEN” and not “IF” – remember, even FOREVER is a prescriptive term.), we’ll be ready with an endless number of stories to share and the gift of insurmountable eagerness that will get us through memory loss, pain and all things that are ironic in life.

Our hearts beat with a rhythm; listen to our unfinished melody, soon, your words and my words will rhyme. Take care of your heart for me, and I promise, I will take care of mine.

Love,

Me

Best Foot Forward

The Mirror

Between the Lines

Present Past

Wholesale and Retail Happiness

The Prelude

The Prescription

The Result

from Joyce Carol Oates' "Rape: A Love Story"

The Bluff of Nothing

After what seemed like hours of driving around, he finally stopped the car and asked, “What are you so mad about?”

“I’m not mad. I’m just tired.” She didn’t even look at him.  Dismissively she looked straight ahead. It was the perfect con, if only she could make anything out of the darkness that she was absorbedly staring at.

He joined her, pretending to keenly observe the established nothing and continued to grill her, “Ok, then what are you so TIRED of?

“I already told you, it’s nothing.”

“Hah!  I’m calling THAT bluff. Tell me, what is this really about? You can tell me. You don’t really like her, do you?”

“I have nothing to say about her. I have nothing to say about whatever you have with her. I have nothing!”

“Fine!” He started driving and said nothing until they’re in front of her house’s gate. “Call me when you’re ready to say something.”

She didn’t say a word. Hurriedly, she got out of the car and didn’t even look back. That was what I wanted to say. I have nothing.

The Dilemma

Ever wondered what she might be truly feeling? She knows she may never become "HER" yet she sticks around because you need her. She sets aside her self esteem, sense of self and her life because she wants you to feel and understand that she can go through a lot for you. She doesn't demand because she knows she has no right to demand. She takes care of you because she cares, because she cannot bear to see you broken. She does her best to fix you because she considers you to be a part of her. She doesn't pressure you to change because she has accepted you for who you are. She laughs at your jokes because she aches for your laughter that is intended for someone else. 

Yes, she can never be perfect, she never claimed to be one, but if being funny is the only way for her to make you feel better, she'd rather be funny at the risk of not being taken seriously, than be perfect and burden you. She cradles your ego because she wants to let you know that for her, YOU ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH. She gives you a break while she painfully tries to conceal her own need for one. She drops everything because you are everything, and with you things are in their proper places. She chooses to settle for a carefree, hassle-free non-relationship because that's all you offer her. 

Your "excess time" is her "precious time". You can go on and on like this but she can only take so much. She fills the emptiness in your life because she wants to be a part of it too. She knows that you mean no harm, that's why she doesn't take it against you that you continuously hurt her, unconsciously.

How much time do you need? She wants to ask you that too, along with a lot of other questions.

The Context

“How is she?”

“Ok, I guess.”

“Why can’t you just date her? I mean, you’re always together!”

“We’re just friends.”

“So? That’s the best beginning to a relationship.”

“If I date her, it’s within the same context of me dating you.”

“Oh. Right.” They both looked away, and let silence define the moment. 

The Waking

I don’t like seeing you. Only because when I do, I ask myself questions with answers that bring pain. I inevitably find myself asking, “Why wouldn’t you love me? How could you not have loved me?”

And just like water with strong current, the answers come painstakingly rushing to me without restraint but with fierceness that not only carries me but drowns me in sorrow.

I know why. You just can’t. You have a picture of someone you’ll love in your mind and an expected feeling in your heart. You have a picture that does not fit me, a picture that unsurprisingly, does not even remind you of me.  

You have a feeling that you have been constantly searching for, a feeling that will convince you to take the leap with me, for me. It didn’t come, did it?

But today, I saw you.  I am glad I did. I needed the jolt, the harmless but persistent shock that’s reminiscent of electricity flowing through my veins or what’s  left of my subtly walled heart .

It doesn’t matter that you didn’t love me, what matters is that I can take the pain now. It’s not as lethal as it used to be. It felt like a pinch, not enough to hurt me, but enough to wake me up.

I’m awake now. You’re no longer my dream.

The Promise

“Promise me you won’t be gay.”

“Ulol. Do I look like someone who’ll be gay?”

“Just promise me.”

“I don’t have to. Remember, your men turn gay, ONLY, when you start liking them.”

Her lips formed into a coy smile and said, “Then, promise me.”

Taken aback, he looked up from the book that he was pretending to read and whispered,  “I promise.”