La Commencement Était la Fin

The reality was all but an illusion.

For my heart, it was all-too real - the emotions were true, the emotions were honest.

Roadkill of a Heart

No recriminations, no bitterness. I understand where you're coming from.

It may not have been grand, it may not have been a lot, but I'd like to believe there was SOMETHING. It was that something that fueled all those times I chose to keep you company through the night. It was that something that fueled my patience in trying to adjust to who and what you are.  It was that something the fueled my acceptance of our difficult situation.

Mothers and Sons 3

"Anak, are you hungry?", my mother asked me while I was busy writing stuff in front of the computer.

"Mmmmm," I grunted a non-committal reply.

-----

Ever since my mother arrived along with her adopted daughter, I've been extra sullen and moody. A lot of my talking either has been reduced to monosyllables or to shakes and nods of the head. I think she's been chucking it up to my artistic temperament; one time, she even patted my cheeck and said I'm starting to take after Popsy with the way I communicate.

Untitled 2

it takes maturity to make a relationship work; 
even more maturity to end it graciously

Thank you.

-----
Close friends are dismissive of the whole affair because I almost never talked about him. I wanted to keep everything low-key, and kept what was really between us private. They will never genuinely fathom how much he meant to me.

And yes, it hurts. 
It hurts like no words can describe it.
The pain is real, the loss is palpable.
Another deep wound in the weary and battle-scarred heart.

More Midnight Tales

The Rendezvous 2

I had a bad episode a few nights ago. Driving along the span of Commonwealth past midnight, a stray thought suddenly crossed my mind. I was so caught off-guard that I almost hit the brakes dead stop. It just came out of nowhere, and at that moment, all my processing and resolutions meant nothing to me. It just went down the drain like dirty dishwater that couldn't wait to get to the sewers.

You see, while I was driving, I suddenly thought of Spice.

We had a game whenever he was at my place. He has always been fastidious with his looks. I found it amusing to see him preen in front of the mirror, fixing his shirt or styling his hair. I never tired of mock-teasing him about it, and he'd respond with a mock smirk of his own. But in the middle of it all, I would usually end up hugging him from behind and bury my face in his nape. I'd then take my time inhaling the scent of his perfume.

(I can't breathe. No, I can. But the only thing I can breathe is the memory of your scent. Oh God. It hurts.)

"Smile ka naman," I'd cajole him while rubbing his goatee.

"Ayaw."

"Sige na, please?"

Even then, I could see him suppress a smile that was forming. A suppressed smile which all the more brought out his dimple.

(Be still, my heart. Please.)

It was a just a routine, but it always managed to take my breathe away. For in my heart's eye, he was most handsome at that time.

"I love you," I'd say as I kiss him tenderly on the cheek.

He'd sigh and whisper softly, "I love you, too."

(Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Why are you torturing yourself with these sketches of the past?)

My heart winced as I continued driving behind the wheel. I haven't felt that pain in years. I had forgotten how excruciating it can be. Dammit. Why do these things suddenly pop out of the blue just when your defenses are down and you're at your most vulnerable?

When shit hits the fan, it spreads around. Big time.

My tears started to well up even before I managed to chuck my half-spent cigarette. I closed the window, and the night road before me was a blur. All I had for company was a radio on full blast as I sped straight to heartache city.

With One Glimpse

Ikatlong Araw

Alam kong mababasa mo itong aking isususlat, kaya't hayaan mong ilahad ko kung ano aking nararamdaman sa saglit na ito.

Hindi ko maintindihan bakit mo piniling paniwalaan ang mga ibang tao kaysa sa akin. At lubusang hindi ko rin maintindihan bakit mo pinipiling putulin ako sa bahay mo ng ganito. Ni ha, ni ho, walang kang sinagot sa aking mga tawag, texts, at mga ym. Kung ano man ang meron tayo, hindi mo ba ito kayang ipaglaban? Sa ganito bang paraan magwawakas ang ating kabanata?

Oo, masama ang loob ko dahil ayaw mong makipag-usap sa akin nang matino. Hindi ako sanay sa ganito . Pinalaki ako ng aking mga magulang na makipagtustusan ng matiwasay at makipag-usap ng mahinahon. Kaya hindi ko maintindihan kung bakit mayroong mga taong ayaw makipag-ayusan sa ganitong pamamaraan. Hindi na tayo bata para magkasumbatan ng mga maanghang na salita at manadya ng mga masasakit ng gawain upang makahanap ng lunas sa ganitong mga pangyayari.

Sa mga sandaling ito, galit at poot ang nananig sa aking kalooban. Galit ako sa sarili ko dahil binuksan ko muli ang aking sarili sa iyo't ipinasang-tabi ang mga babala sa akin. Galit ako sa sarili ko dahil nagpakatanga ako't pinaniwalaan ang iyong mga binitiwang salita ng pagmamahal. Galit ako sa sarili ko dahil nagpakasasa ako sa mga damdaming matagal ko ng tinago't sinupil. At higit sa lahat, galit ako sa sarili ko dahil hinayaan kong umiral ang puso't damdamin bago ang utak. Ito ang pinakamalaking kasalanan ko sa aking sarili, at ngayon, binagbabayaran ko ito.

Hindi ko na alam kung ano ang mangayayri sa atin. Ito na ba ang katapusan ng maikling kwento natin, o mayroon pa bang kataga ito? Ito lang ang alam ko: minahal kita, at minahal kita ng hitik sa lubos at pagkatotoo. Hindi bahay-bahayan, hindi panandaliang aliw, hindi isang laro ang ginawa ko sa iyo. At kung may mabuting kinalabasan ang lahat nang mga pangyayari, malamang ay ito na 'yon: na naging tunay ako sa iyo, at sa muling pagtingin, ay naging tunay din ako sa sarili ko.