February 25, 2015

There’s always a moment when you hear someone talks about you. That someone said you’re sweet, That you wake up at four in the morning to cook breakfast and prepare pack lunch for work. That you drive yourself 56 km just to get a glimpse of that person. That you went directly to the hospital from a stressful night shift to look after her. That you are beautiful. That you are a gift from God. And then you realize that you are losing yourself in the process. And that’s when you stop believing. That’s when you become cold and distant.

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January 30, 2014

I like to think that we have a place where there’s no room for anyone but us. A place that is not crowded, away from those prying eyes. It’s a secret place. It’s our secret place. Secrets. I like secrets. I want to tell you my secret. I kept it for so many years. In my sickness, I finally send you a message in that lonely, secret place of ours, when hopefully no one can read but you and me. You said you’re speechless. And I imagine your big round eyes. You don’t like my secret. My secret is you.

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January 29, 2014

He used to cling to me for safety – either in a tight hug or holding my hand. He was easily amused to things like flashing lights and snakes from a petting zoo. He’s my baby and every time I went to different places I tagged him along with me. One day his voice changed and his height shoots up like a bamboo. He became aloof and rather stayed with friends. Last night he told me that he needs something to wear for his JS Prom. So the young man needs a suit. That certain sadness I feel explains it all.

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January 28, 2014

I’ve been planning to live in Tagaytay for years. I asked a friend who lives there before about life in the highlands. It turns out that job vacancies are limited to restaurants and hotels. The job that I want closest is located at Sta. Rosa, Laguna. The cost of living is almost as the same as living in Manila. The traffic, the way people crowded the place, the high-rise condos and even the weather are now almost the same. There’s only one thing that can make it special, that magnificent view of Taal Volcano that was surrounded by the lake.

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January 27, 2014

It’s been three weeks, love. I miss you. I think of you when I’m having coffee. I think of you when I’m alone, sad and lonely. I think of you every time I’m having a hard time coping of something dreadful and stressful. I think of you when I just had an awkward moment and often times I think you can fill in the silence. You are my favourite thing the world, do you know that? And I just have to change. I have to get away from you. And I have come to this – sucking Werther’s Original sugar-free candies.

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January 10, 2014

You know the lines delivered by some good actors on some movies you’ve watched? Or the lyrics from a song you’ve heard over the radio? Or the phrase from a book you’ve just read? Or the advertisements you saw from the billboards? Or the notes from the wind chimes that creates a perfect symphony? Or the stanza from a poem read by someone in your literature class? Or the first ring of the much awaited call? These are things that you remember the most because even on its awesomeness, it still breaks your heart into millions of tiny little pieces.

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January 9, 2014

She woke up coughing, spatting with blood. It was 2:00 am and even the roosters were still sleeping. She was boiling water for the tea leaves she gathered yesterday from the neighbour’s small garden. She will walk miles today, barefoot. She will pray and ask for the healing of her baby like thousands of people who will gather at Quiapo waiting for a miracle to happen. Before she left, she went to see her sickly little girl sleeping in the papag and kissed her forehead. Today is January 9, The Black Nazarene day. And today is the day of hope.

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January 8, 2014

I’m home, sick. I’m wrapped in my favourite blanket, shivering. And this is the time I feel very weak. And weakness is not doing me any good. And memories of the past are playing on me. And I think of something else just to block it off. And I think about this girl on that rainy day, standing in the middle of our street under her umbrella waiting for someone that will never come. And she brought these long stemmed red roses that I wish I could have. I still think about this girl. Dear A. C., it was you.

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January 7, 2014

Dear A, I am sick today. I have this terrible cough and I’m having trouble swallowing pills. I’ve decided to take cough syrup instead. My nose is dripping profusely for the past few days. My blood pressure is unstable although I’ve been taking maintenance for hypertension, too.  I should be bound to bed and should change my work schedule to morning, too but I guess can’t. All I want to say is that I’m weak. I am weak and yet I have the courage to almost tell you how I feel. Dear A, I think I really, really like you.

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July 7, 2013

It was guilt. That’s what my bestfriend’s ex told me. It’s about the absence of hope, lack of trust, insufficiency of love. Where did it go? It’s always the intangible things that are harder to find. It’s about losing it, the frustration of its non-existence that leads to infidelity. And always, as we did something horrible as this, we give answers to our own demons, provide ourselves excuses to justify our actions. And the thrill wears off, we think of the person we left behind. We cringe to the awful lot feeling that was eating us alive. It was guilt.

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