I’m not giving up but I’m not much of a fighter.
I can wait but I can’t wait forever.
And here you are once more, alone with your thoughts. It’s probably the worst possible scenario as of this moment.
You’re starting to think of the boundaries.
“Is this okay?”
“Is this too much?”
“Am I allowed to ask?”
Road boundaries are obvious. You see physical marks here and there. You even see signs as to how far the boundary actually is. You get a heads-up first, that way you’re aware that you have crossed to another territory. The signs are clear and there’s no room for second thoughts.
Real life boundaries are a pain. Sometimes it’s as clear as day and you think, ‘Yea, I’m not crossing that one‘ but then as you approach it, it suddenly becomes vague and unclear. There’d be times that the boundary still seems a few meters away. Then, there’d be times when the boundary is already behind you. You’ve crossed it unknowingly and have entered unfamiliar territory.
There’s always an option to talk — to ask.
“Where are we?”
But the sad thing is, as you’re about to speak, the words die in your lips. And then you hear yourself say:
‘I’m glad we’re here.‘
It’s not entirely a lie neither is it the truth. It’s a combination of both that you’ve come to use.
Going down the road, there are now new sights, new people, new music, and even new emotions. Everything’s foreign and you’re feeling lost. But just a squeeze on the hand and all of a sudden everything’s okay. Not because of the beauty of the place, the sound of the music, nor the blissfulness of the emotions. But because of the familiarity that in this new territory something is constant.
That’s what you think.
You can find yourself asking roundabout questions, of ‘How are we‘s
And you find yourself answered with, ‘Everything’s the same. I’m feeling dandy.‘
You look back and see the vague, almost-gone boundary slowly fade but never completely fading. Like as if it’s reminding you that you’re in a foreign territory and you will have a hard time going back.
It’s when you see her from afar and you can just make out that subtle smile on her lips. It makes you want to smile too as you raise your arm and wave out to her. You hear them say her name and then they call her over. You feel the butterflies in your stomach.
It’s in the way she wears her clothes. Simple and neat. She doesn’t even seem to be trying so hard and yet she has your attention. Her laid-back attitude and her carefree aura makes you want to just stand beside her. Because even in the silence, you find her presence overwhelm you.
It’s in how her personality challenges you and keeps you on your feet. She’s the type of girl who won’t back down. She’s got her head held up high and her feet on the ground. She knows what she’s got and she knows of what she’s not. But all you see is her strong presence. The presence you so crave to be in.
It’s in how addictive she is that just scares you.
Asking people to treat men and women equally is like asking the sun to kiss the sea.
You should’ve took notice of her silent cries.
You should’ve seen that her eyes have run dry.
You should’ve seen how badly she wanted a hug.
A silent approval, a minute nod.
It’s a beautiful Sunday morning, you’re standing on the sidewalk patiently waiting for a jeepney which would take you home. Then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, someone gropes you from behind. Seems like the best way to start your day, isn’t it?
For one who took the “wiser” route, it seemed like it was all in vain. After a night of drinking, going home late at night when your house is about an hour away — and what’s more is that you’re unfamiliar to the place — seemed like asking for unwanted trouble. Sleeping over seemed like the better choice since it’s obviously safer to go home at 9am. Morning came, and just like any normal human, you seem lenient since the sun’s up high, people are bustling around, and no one seemed to alert your “6th Sense”. Who’d think of doing anything stupid and careless, right?
But then, it happened, someone groped you from behind. And since your brain’s still slow in processing with what just happened, all you managed to do is thwart the offending hand away and scream in frustration, “What the fuck?!” You turn around, expecting to see the stereotype male leecher whose appearance seemed to have seen better days but instead, you see a woman who’s roughly 60-70 years old calmly walking away without even batting an eye and there’s no one else around but her.
Couple days later, you’re in a jeepney going home. Passengers get in, seat themselves and a guy with a big bag decides to sit beside you. Okay, no problem there. Minutes later, you can feel something poking your chest. You look down and see the hand of the man beside you hidden inconspicuously behind his enormous bag. Not wanting to be scandalous or just simply avoiding trouble, you adjust your arm so that it’s cover your chest area better. The man didn’t even look like a leecher. He looked smart with his finely pressed suit and slacks and he seemed to scream “BUSINESS!“
Point is, trouble — and in this case perverts — comes in all shapes and sizes. They’re more than just the stereotypes that we know of. I, for one, learned that the hard way. Those relatively brief moments were frankly more than enough.
Just because they look smart in their suit and tie doesn’t mean that they can’t be perverts.Just because it’s a relatively old lady doesn’t mean that they can’t be perverts.
Just because someone looks suspicious doesn’t exactly mean that they are perverts.
Just as he walked out of the door, she comes in. He eyes wandered towards him for a moment before looking on forward. Seemingly eager to ignore his very existence. He continued walking towards his friends and was soon enough surrounded in laughter and jokes. From inside the room, he could hear her distinct laughter. He’d smile to himself and think bitterly, ‘what should’ve been mine‘. She’d waltz out of the room together with a friend to share stories with. To share her laughter with. And once again, he’d think to himself, ‘that should’ve been me‘.
The ‘should haves’ and ‘would haves’ were his deepest regrets. All this time they both knew of the truth. Sooner or later, something out of hand was bound to happen. Someone was bound to let go. They were both bound to hurt.
And now here he was, watching her from afar. His eyes would unknowingly seek for her. He’d find her in the middle of a crowd and he’d recognize her even from a distance. When they’d pass by, he’d ache to say just a single ‘hello’ or ‘hi’ to her. His heart would twinge and he’d feel weak inside. But why was he still holding on unto something so futile? What was he holding on to? What made him hope so much? It was all because of that one look she sent him. Maybe it was because of that. Because that look seemed to tell him, ‘please, don’t let go.’
I managed to dig this baby up in my facebook account. I wrote this around 3 years ago and I just left it unedited for old time’s sake. It’s accompaniment: Her Story: One Word
She was just another girl waiting for the day to end. Wanting to close her eyes and just to let the day quickly pass by. Staring up at the ceiling in the dark room waiting for the dreamworld to engulf her in its silliness and atrociousness. Just one second, just one blink and everything came back to her like a big wave. What she tried to hide. What she tried to forget. What she tried to throw away. All of it seemed to happen only yesterday.
Only yesterday when he held her hand. Him looking down at her with a soft smile. Him pulling her up just when everything seemed down. When they’d chat endlessly about random stuff until the sleep would seem just another necessity. When they had the world all to themselves. When they still had words to say. Words to hear. Words to speak. When all it mattered was just them and not what others thought. When those small smiles would make her heart flutter and small hellos would mean the world. When the shared laughter would be a memory and when love quotes were what connected them. They were immature and happy. They were foolish and eccentric. But that was their world and that was them.
‘That was the past‘ she thought. The past she treasured so much. Too much.The past she’d been holding on for all this time. The past she’d been willing to risk everything for. He wasn’t the first in her heart – she knew she wasn’t the first in his heart too – but he was the first one to make her shed tears. Though it had hurt, she still managed to laugh around him for days when every single second, she felt her heart tear apart into shreds. But it didn’t last long. She didn’t expect it to happen. But that was what she loved about him, he managed to make her unbelievable world believable.
This was their past the past she still held on to. Unconsciously. Surprisingly. Unexpectedly. Because just when she thought it was easy to let go of the past, one smile could make her fall down on her knees. Because all this time…. one word… just one word could’ve changed everything. One word they both failed to say. One word which her heart is screaming out. One word which still made tears fall down her cheeks. Just one single word which she wished to hear…
I managed to dig this baby up in my facebook account. I wrote this around 3 years ago and I just left it unedited for old time’s sake. It’s accompaniment: His Story: One Look
It’s a scary thought once you’re in a relationship. The thought of your partner being miles and miles — even timezones — away from you is heartbreaking. There are sayings about distance, and the two of which with situations that I can easily pick off my brain are:
“Distance makes the heart grow fonder.”
This is for the couple who — despite the distance — still remain loyal to each other. I say loyal because let’s face it, there would be times wherein you’re just in the verge of giving up and you just want to throw everything away. One day, you’d find yourself looking at other men/women thinking of “What if…”. Then you’d go home, drained and exhausted. You turn on your Skype or FaceTime and then you’re reminded of just why you even managed to hold on despite the distance. One text, one call, one message, and suddenly, everything makes sense to you. Whatever has transgressed during the day will all be in the past because the one reason why you held on for so long would be there in front of you. Because your heart’s loyalty overrides the unconsciousness’ promiscuity.
“Out of sight, out of mind.“
This is for the couples who can’t stand being away from each other and they’d find another company instead. It may be a mutual decision, it may not be so too. But what’s clear is that when your partner is away, you just can’t help but find yourself eyeing — or maybe even flirting with — another person. This kind of “arrangement” (if you could call it as such) is usually common to those who aren’t used to the absence of their partners. It’s either that or they just can’t stand being alone. Physically speaking. These would usually involve flirting episodes, just enough to let someone know you’re interested in them but are not serious enough to be committed with them because like it or not, you are already committed. But when your partner’s back in town, that connection is over. In a way, you’re just using someone to fill in the empty space that your partner left you with when he/she left.
These two situations are quite common, yes. But then again, there is also another situation which is also probably happened to some couples.
“So, I guess this is me…“
…saying good-bye. Buckets of ice cold water poured down on you. Shattered dreams. You’re losing ground. You’re drifting apart. Sometimes, distance just can’t handle it. There’ll be a time when the communication just isn’t enough to appease your wants and needs. But there are also situations wherein the couples would decide to hold off their relationship. They’d go on with their lives without their ex-partners. Try to see if there’s someone else out there for them. Some would probably say that they’re immature for letting go of what they already had. But maybe it’s also a way for them to see the possible chances that they’re missing out on.
If possible, I’d want to personally hear from you on what your thoughts are on LDRs, if you’re in one, I’d like to know of your situation too. I personally have a couple of friends who are in LDRs and I’m glad to say that they’re all going strong 🙂
And also, I don’t really like what I’ve written much.. it’s like something’s just not there. And, I’m writing this while I’m feeling kind of out-of-there, so forgive this sloppily written post. I’ll edit this someday.
You see, the thing about artists is that when they’d fall for you hard, you are immortalized.
When a singer falls in love, you might just as well find yourself in their songs. You’d see a whole side of you that you never knew and all you can do is to let yourself be lulled in that sweet lullaby that they wrote for you. Their voice will tell you just what you are to them. Lost your favorite pair of earrings? You might just find it lost in the lyrics.
When a painter falls in love, you might just as well find yourself in their canvass. You’d see what you once thought was an imperfection as the missing puzzle piece to their favorite masterpiece. The subtle lines, the playful way that the colors contrast. It’ll all show the hidden shadows in your life that you just want to bury. Having a hard time to smile? The canvass might as well be your mirror.
When a writer falls in love, you might just as well find yourself in their papers. You’d be reading just how much of a menace you are to them. How the thought of you just makes them want to keep on writing all those nonsensical words oozing with sugar and honey. Among all those words, you’d be reading how the hesitant writer falls in love. Slowly at first, then suddenly, they fall all at once. And by then, they’d be to petrified to grab hold of a pen and paper because suddenly, words can’t justify their feelings. You at loss for words? You might find the perfect words amidst the writer’s jumbled thoughts.