And in that moment, I swear we were infinite
09 Feb 2012 Leave a Comment
in E, love and cheesiness, sadness and everything along with it, traveling (whether real or unreal)
I have been awake for over 36 hours, but I won’t be able to sleep until I’ve written about a bit of what happened the past two days. It was emotional hell, I’ll tell you that much. Tuesday and Wednesday molded into one very long night, and it still hasn’t ended for me. To say that what happened last night was unexpected is a big understatement. Even I didn’t know I could do such bravery (or foolishness?). It went from bad to worse, to emotional breakdown, to resolution and finally, to redemption.
Last night was unbelievably unbelievable, I swear. But there are things that only an early morning motorcycle ride (at 100kph along C5) can fix. It was exhilarating—the sound of the wind blowing my hair, the cars whirring past us in a blur, the cold morning chill and the dawn breaking while we sped up as if we were in competition with the sunrise. It was what I needed to get rid of the previous night’s worries.
And I felt it. I really felt infinite—that we were infinite. And I could think of nothing else that could have made me happier.
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Almost There
07 Feb 2012 Leave a Comment
in sadness and everything along with it
I have no one. My two best friends are not in the country. Whenever I have something urgent to tell them, I almost always have to wait for a few hours before I could read their response.
I’m annoyingly impatient about some things. It’s a lifelong struggle and battling it is like a slow, painful death.
There are things that you hope will get you Somewhere but sometimes gets you Nowhere. It hurts, but not as much as getting to Almost There and seeing it—whatever it is—disappear forever instead. Without warning. Without a fallback. Just gone.
For the agony, I’d rather know
05 Feb 2012 Leave a Comment
in sadness and everything along with it
Knowing that someone you care about died is one thing; looking inside his coffin is another. Losing someone to sickness is one thing; knowing that he committed suicide is not the same. Suicide raises more questions than answers; it shoves you down an unending pit of the unknown, leaves you in the dark forever. It will drive you crazy to ask the same questions over and over and over again and not get answers—because the only person who could give you the answers is gone.
It’s not even the death that’s unbearable. It’s that person’s own decision to cease to live; to make a final statement that there is no other alternative but to stop living, that no one in the entire world could make a difference. The finality of suicide is numbing. For that person, it was the only way. For the rest of us, it doesn’t make sense.
Sometimes we come to a point where we just can’t make sense of the things that happen to our lives anymore. And the only thing that does make sense is to accept that they can never make sense.
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Goodbye, Ned. I never got a chance to know you but wherever you are, I hope you don’t feel alone anymore.
First time
04 Feb 2012 Leave a Comment
in E, happy thoughts, love and cheesiness
February 4, 2006 was six years ago already yet I can remember exactly how I felt that day. I never told my friends about it before because I was afraid I would jinx it, but you know what, I think six years is enough to keep something a secret.
It was a Saturday and we were required to attend a half-day seminar at school. By noon, I was only too happy to get out and meet with E, who was waiting for me outside the gate (so high school teen sensation). We went to Robinson’s Place Manila because I told him if we just hung out at SM Manila, there was a big chance my friends would stalk us.
We went to see Saw IV because it just opened the previous week. We were quiet almost the entire two-hour movie. I was too engrossed with the film and there were even some moments when I completely forgot I was with someone. It must have been that obvious, because at one point E whispered to me, “sige wag mo na ko pansinsin,” and that pulled me back to reality—that it was our first date since we became “official” just a few days previously. I smiled at him and he held my hand for the first time ever since we met in November 2005 (I know).
I smiled at him again and we awkwardly held hands. I tried to concentrate at watching the movie, but I couldn’t pay attention anymore. How could I when here was the boy I liked holding my hand tightly? I couldn’t even move my entire arm. I was probably scared that if I moved a single muscle, he would let go of me.
When the movie finished he was still holding my hand. And when I turned to look at him, he smiled at me for a moment—as if looking for some kind of encouragement from me—then he kissed my hand. I felt violated!—no, just kidding. I felt butterflies in my stomach and I felt like my heart was going to burst. I don’t remember how we “unheld” hands. I am pretty sure our fingers were still interlocked when we came out of the theater and the mall.
So that was the first date (as a couple), first holding hands extravaganza and first kiss with E. 
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