Prose

Best friend for Lifetime

I wrote this piece when I was fifteen years old. I decided to show it here for an appreciation to my dearest mom. She’s been abroad for three years, but it’s coming to an end. The wait is over! She’s coming home. Praying for her safety 🙏

Best friend for Lifetime

I don’t know how many stars are there in the sky every night. I don’t know how long will it take for us to reach the galaxy. I don’t know how deep the Pacific trench is, but I’m lucky to have known someone who loves me unconditionally. Someone who makes each day of my life worth living for. Someone who’s always in my heart, and forever will be my light to guide me in every path that I’m taking.

She can’t cook well, I admit it. She doesn’t have talents, she told me. She’s not good in Mathematics, I bet we’re the same. But she showed her care and guidance that even other people can’t do to me. She’s somehow strict. She’s surely demanding. It doesn’t matter, I still love her.

She appreciated my low quality writings and poems. She told me they’re good, but I knew in myself they’re not. She listened to my childish stories that I’ve got in school, then we’ve looked into each other’s eyes and together, have shared the laughter. She got silent when my average decreased to 85. She didn’t say anything but I knew she was disappointed. She asked me about my studies and she was interested in my love life. She always wanted to know my friends’ names. She’s been very observant to every little thing that I do.

We’re close to each other, not until she worked abroad.

In my present life, I started hating our home. It’s not a home anymore. It’s just a typical house. I’ve spent whole day everyday in school because I know there’s no one in our house who likes to talk to me. My best friend is miles away from me. Though she calls me every month, sends messages in Facebook, I feel desperately incomplete. It’s not the same feeling when she’s beside me.

My mother is the best woman I’ve ever known. The heroine that saves me from pains of disappointments and judgments. She’s very far from home but she’s in my mind and heart. I’ll always be thankful to God, that she sets a good model of a woman who inspite of struggles, still continues to go on and be brave just to support the needs of her family.

I may not be able to tell her that I love her everyday, I may not have shown her the good daughter that she wants me to be, I always pray to God to give her good health, peace of mind and happiness for her to be able to attain her dreams, even not for me. This time, I want her dreams to be not for other people, but for herself.

Prose

Waved Goodbyes

I saw him three days ago. I was already in a Lapuz jeepney while he was standing patiently with other people, waiting for another to arrive. He saw me, slightly shocked, but never hesitated to smile. I smiled back, meekly. The jeepney I was in only needed three human beings to fill the gaps on its seats. I don’t know what word to use, luckily or unfortunately, but he never had the chance to let himself be one of that three people.

I kept looking somewhere else while the traffic light still beamed the color red. I didn’t want to set my eyes on him. I didn’t want to witness the way he looks at me. I’m afraid we might have an eye-to-eye contact and would have a conversation using our minds, admitting that we still want to be with each other. That we might beg for another chance.

But no. That will never happen.

 

He has totally moved on and is now in love with a person who has a tough personality, beautiful mind and brave soul.

I am.. well.. still doing fine with my life. Nothing is so special. Every day is a challenge but I still manage to survive. I’ve never been in love with anyone after we have decided to separate paths.

Before the jeepney left, we waved each other our goodbyes.

That scene was so sad. So tragic.

This world is too big and we have no idea when we will meet again.

And if never again, at least we have bade goodbyes..

Finally. With smiles on our lips. And acceptance in our hearts.


A real ‘cropped’ picture of us when we were still together.

Prose

Dead Poets Society

I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately.

I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.

To put to rout all that was not life;

And not when I came to die,

Discover that I had not lived.

– DPS

 

This is one of my favorite quotations in the movie Dead Poets Society. This inspiring and somehow heartbreaking movie was showed in 1989, ten years before the year I was born. I’ve never known or ever heard about this movie until I made a Tumblr account and a blog that I am following let us guess what movie featured the lines..

“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, Law, Business, Engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But Poetry, Beauty, Romance, Love, these are what we stay alive for.”

After I have read those, I was like..
What the eff is this movie?! I am in love with the words. It gave me the chills. I’ve never encountered such lines.

Prose

Midterm is just two days away. There are still projects to be passed; project that hasn’t yet finished.. project that hasn’t yet started. I also need to start studying though. But how can I study if I haven’t written any notes in my notebook? Urgh. I’m too tired and lazy these days. I mean, always. Procrastination every minute and in every corner of my life. I don’t know why am I like this. Things last year were too different. I too, was different. It’s strange how a lot of things could change within just a year.

Last year, before midterm, I cried. Not because I was afraid of exams but because I missed my friends. High school best friends. They are the only people that were making me smile despite the hardships that I am facing. Last year, I still haven’t known whom to trust with my college classmates. It had already been three months yet I was still adjusting. I always asked myself, “Am I really for this course? Do I really belong with this group? What if the answer for both of my questions was NO?” I cried. A lot. I still can remember.

I became studios. I turned my attention to studying rather than just cry because of sepanx and the feeling of not belonging. My high-school friends wouldn’t always be there for me. They have their own lives to live, and I guess in most moments, I wouldn’t be included in their priorities. And in my college classmates, I don’t need to be attached to them. If they like me, well thank you. If they don’t, who cares.

All I had was myself. I have needed to be brave.

Days, months, have passed. Midterm, Finals for my 1st year in college, were over. I knew in myself I did well. I have been one of the cream of the crops. I received a medal during Parangal and I’ve been a member of Studiositas.

Some were partying. While I was alone in my room, studying. They laughed at the jokes of their friends. I cried by myself while walking home alone. Last year, I have the most lonely days of my life. Yet I have gained a lot from those lonely moments. I became better in acads, I used to appreciate the magic of silence.

I am now a 2nd year college. I somehow opened up myself to those people whom I thought I shouldn’t trusted. I learned to laughed out loud, I learned to speak up, I learned to love the loud beats of music. I learned to make myself happy.. and to party, but I always disappoint myself for now having low scores in quizzes and exams. For sure, low grades after this midterm.

Also, in everything that I have learned in this 2nd phase, I have already forgotten the things that used to be my only comfort LAST YEAR.

 

Do grades really matter? Most people would ask.

I don’t know what to answer with that question.

All I know is that, grades have been good to me while I was lonely and struggling. Now that I’m happier and more lively, my grades are Going Down For Real 😂

I am afraid. Of the changes. Maybe I couldn’t make it this year to be an Academic Awardee. How about my mom? My friends? My family? They’re glad and mostly used, of seeing me receiving a medal and/or a certificate.

But how about me? Should I give up my current happiness? Should I bring back my old lonely self to be one of the top again?

 

Last year was different from this year.

My grades last year were better, but I was lonely, almost crying.

My grades are GDFR this year, but I am still smiling.

Which year is better?

Do grades really matter?

I still don’t know what to answer.

 

Prose

Verboten

Every day I asked myself these questions:

Until when will I stop hoping?

Until when will I stop assuming?

Until when will I stop pretending?

Until when will I hurt myself?

Until when will I suffer this pain?

Until when should I love him?

When can I escape?

Questions that are always repeated. Unending. Mind-altering.

I just can’t fathom why I cannot find answers to my own queries no matter how hard I think. I’d been asking myself about it every minute, everyday, for months.. until I got impatient of waiting.

Why would I still waste my dear time asking myself if it was pretty obvious that my questions will forever remain unanswered?

But one day it just crossed my mind that maybe there is no way out to this. That in lieu of escaping, I just need to survive. And there is no other choice.

I cannot unlove him.

I. Cannot.

Maybe the only way and the only thing to do is to just keep on loving him. To keep on hoping, assuming and pretending that we can still work out. That there is “us” that still exists.

Maybe this is meant to be. Maybe we were meant to be. He is meant to hurt me. I am meant to love him.

To love him still by-and-by with all these raging storms and lightnings that is almost killing me, and that keeps him alive and strong.

I need to hold on to survive. Because if I let go, I would be the one to kill myself.

Prose

A Life Well-Lived

The smell of the wilting flowers have awaken my lethargic soul. Still, I do not open my eyes. It was too cold. I can barely breathe. The chilly air is getting through my skin, giving me shivers rushing down my spine. I slowly lift my index finger, then back. That one move has made me feel like I’ve been paralyzed for a hundred years. Paralyzed? I’m in a state of lassitude. An unknown reason of fear has put my heart to throb. My breathing abated. Where am I? I tried to open my eyes and it was too bright. I suddenly shut them. But I don’t want my sight to be governed by darkness so I forcely opened my eyes not minding even if the lucent light would hurt. After a few seconds of blinking, I’ve finally withdrawn my vision. I cannot writhe, so I discern the surroundings without moving my body but my head. The walls are painted white. There’s a big glass window on my right side, letting the four corners of this room be bathed into the daylight. The room is huge, looking almost empty. It is not fancy, but too tidy. A table beside the door on my left has caught my attention. It has a bouquet of yellow flowers on it. It is where the smell came from. I looked up at the ceiling, blankly. I know now where I am. But I don’t know why I am here. Where are they? I’m all alone. Woebegone.

The temperature of the room, the smell of the wilting flowers and the deafening silence are soporific. I close my eyes.. Then sleep has devoured me. Again.

➡ To be continued.