Steps getting to you
1 step, 2 steps, 3 steps… I got out of the jeepney and paused for a moment. 4, 5, 6… I started walking towards the East. 10, 11, 12… I wonder if I could drop by in a friend’s house along the way. 18, 19, 20… I tried to call a few but none of them answered. 33, 34, 35… I saw my former teacher outside his friends house. I stopped and we had a small talk.
I continued my walk a midst the setting of the sun. I don’t mind walking under the night sky, it calms my nerves. I passed by four gas stations already and still continued walking. Jeepney fare was not an issue, really, I just like walking. And this afternoon, I really needed to distract myself from unwanted thoughts.
2439 steps, 2440 steps, 2,441… approximately 2.5 kilometers until I saw a familiar arc that says Campo Subdivision. That instant, I stopped and gave you a call. You couldn’t believe that I walked alone all the way to see you but you got out of your way just to meet me that night.
We had no place to go so you decided to walk me home. I needed the company and I needed someone to talk to, and there you were, truly materializing as my best friend. I lost track of how long I walked but who cares, really? We strolled around for a bit before going home. You bought me ice cream and we sat on a bench in a court. I finished eating mine and you finished yours but I still didn’t want to go home just yet.
“I’m tired. Could you turn around and let me lean on your back?” Of course you didn’t refuse for I was deeply troubled. “Beep, beep” goes your phone. “Who was that? Tell her to text you later because you’re with me.” “Why so?” “…because I’m special.” And you just smiled. “Beep, beep,” goes another text. “Aren’t you going to get that?” I asked. “Don’t mind that.” “How come?” “…because I’m with you and you’re special.”
I gazed into the highest of stars and so did you. I looked around for moonlit silhouettes and saw our very own shadows, black as coal yet it somehow illuminated me on the inside. I wish I could stay like this forever. I wish we could stay like this forever and not care about the rest of the world.
Untitled na, corny pa! :))
My love, my love
As beautiful as can be
The songs of love
I offer to thee
.
But a dream I told
You misunderstood
My heart was crushed
Left me almost destroyed
.
And then it came true
So I knew what to do
My dream was a sign
And still, you are mine
.
I love you for you
And you love me too
Hoping that is enough
for our love to last
This poem was posted on my Facebook Monday, July 26, 2010 at 8:57pm. This was an activity in our English IX . Create a short poem/ song that depicts some relationship to the story of “The Chantecleer and the Fox”.
It was a calm and peaceful afternoon in the house. Alone I was. I was busy making artsy stuff until a long blade covered in blue plastic, lying on the floor, caught my attention. I held it up as I examine its blade -long, sharp, and a bit rusty in the middle. I pushed the blade up even more, exposing a longer facade of the blade. I paused for a second then placed it on my wrist, just below the pulse, thinking that if I’ll do it, maybe I’ll see blood flowing and feel a little, if not fully, alive. I felt the blade touch my tan skin. It will be cliche and I might get asked where I got the scar so I thought of slitting my right leg, after all it’s already scarred as hell from my right knee down to my foot. For a moment, I really thought I was going to do it. For a moment, I really thought I could do it.
The pitter-patter on the roof was getting louder; raindrops falling even harder. I wanted to go home but it would still be a 15 minute walk, and I have no umbrella in hand. Cumulus clouds consumed the sky. I couldn’t really care less about walking in the rain but I know you would care so I dropped you a line to let you know. I started walking; the rain was touching my tan skin and it felt good. Three minutes of walking and I already feel cleansed. Three minutes of walking then I saw you standing outside our subdivision, waiting to share with me your big umbrella. I wasn’t expecting for you to do such a thing but I was glad you did. I was really glad. I felt safe beside you, standing under your umbrella. I felt the rainbow a midst the rain.
If dreaming is the
only way to be with you
I’d sleep forever
Tanging boses mo
malambing at matamis
hele sa gabi
Day 128: what is your life’s purpose
“‘You know what I’d like to be? I mean if it’d be my goddamn choice’”?
‘What? stop swearing.’
‘You know that song, “if I body catch a body comin’ through the rye? I’d like -‘
‘It’s “If a body meet a body coming through the rye”!’ old Phoebe said ‘It’s a poem. By Robert Burns.’
‘I know it’s a poem by Robert Burns.”
She was right, though. It is “If a body meet a body coming through the rye.” I didn’t know it then, though.
“I thought it was “If a body meet a body,”’ I said ‘Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody’s around - nobody big, I mean - except me. And I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That’s all I’d do all day. I’d just be the CATCHER IN THE RYE and all. I know it’s crazy, but that’s the only thing I’d really like to be. I know it’s crazy.”
Old Phoebe didn’t say anything for a long time.”
Set You Free
It’s past midnight. I opened the faucet in the bathroom, eager to take a bath from all the sweating while I exercised. Suddenly I had the urge to listen to music while taking a long, cold bath. I grabbed my phone and put it on shuffle. I sang smoothly with the songs being played while feeling the coldness of the water through my skin to my bones.
I was doing okay, really, until I heard the song that we danced to that night at the ball. I remembered that I need to endure two whole weeks without you because you needed to go some place else. I remembered how you danced with her longer that night. I remembered she still loves you. I remembered the things that made me happy and hurt at the same time.
One step behind the other, and I was leaning my back to the wall. Finally, it was over. Our song was over. Or so I thought. ♪We often fool ourselves and say that it’s love…♪ The words hit me. This song, of letting go. ♪When we shared precious moments but later realized they were only stolen moments…♪ Nobody really knew that we were going out, not our friends, not even our parents. It’s as if we were breaking the law. ♪If loving you is all that means to me…♪ I found myself sitting, leaning against the wall. Tears flow unnoticed but I couldn’t fool myself. Not even the water from the shower could hide the tears. ♪…and being happy is all I hoped you’d be…♪ I do wish for you and me to be happy. We should be happy, but we aren’t because of her, your family, this secrecy we silently swore. ♪…then loving you must mean, I really have to set you free.♪ We have the right love in a very wrong time. I’ve been thinking a lot about giving up, about giving you up, and let destiny or fate do its job. ♪Letting go is not an easy task. When smiling feels like I must wear this lonely mask. It hurts deep inside and I just cannot hide that there’s anguish at the thought that we should have to part.♪
Day 105: describe your favorite place in the world
My favorite place in the world
is anywhere with you
But I’m only kidding
Because that’s too mainstream
My favorite place in the world
would have to be our rooftop
The array of view’s breathtaking
The stars at night a’twinkle
Sunrise and sunsets bring hope
Blue skies are always calming
Making me reminisce the days
Tiny pieces of memories
keep that place alive
I remember people
in and out of my life
Last night.
I lay down on the bed drunk and sober at the same time. I can feel the heat of the alcohol taking over my body. It’s midnight but I feel widely awake, enraged by the thoughts of me becoming a monster. The stories I heard tonight about you and my best friend were far more perfect than I imagined and I know that if I tolerate our relationship to blossom, a lot of feelings will definitely get hurt.
I called you over the phone with my inhibitions out of sight. You knew very well how hurt I am at the idea and possibility of you getting back together with her. Reassuring me seems to be the next compulsory move. “I don’t know what reactions there will be but I like like you. I really do.” “Do you still love her?” “No, I don’t think so.” The last words you said left me hanging cold. Tears started falling but I can’t help it. The last thing I wanted you to feel is being responsible of how I felt but I sensed you felt like the most horrible person in the world for making me cry.
Minutes passed and you called back. “Will you pray the Rosary with me?” It’s peculiar to hear this from you, especially during a fight, until I remembered the Rosary I gave you last Christmas. I told you to lead and did so, not forgetting to include silent intentions after every mystery. I ended the call as soon as the prayer was finished. A tranquil ambiance surrounded the room. My phone lit up with a message popped up. “Please give me the chance to make things right.” I know that you are not capable of doing so but nonetheless, I felt a little better.
I went out of the room and made my way towards the couch near the gate of our house. It’s almost sunrise and my puffy eyes are still not getting the sleep it longs for. My eyelids are about to shut when I caught a glimpse of a familiar face outside our house. I gently unlocked the gate and went out to meet you. You are as sleepless as I was. We sat outside and talked. I wanted to hug you so tight but my body could barely even move to touch you. “LEANNE” says a writing on your right arm, “I AM SORRY” on the other. In the middle of talking, you pulled out a rim of paper with hand written words on it, asking for my forgiveness. Words escaped my mouth. All I could do was give off a smile. A smile of hope. A smile that meant second chance.
*He’s someone I don’t want to become a stranger again in my life.
