Found and Lost

I am simply about to press a thought… But what led me here actually revealed a surprising truth–that I haven’t been writing for almost two years. Where was I? I guess, similar to what I am about to share, just lost. How apt?

Here’s what has been bugging my mind in this ungodly hour…

I was young and lost when I found you–well, you found me. Like lightning speed I found myself then lost in you. It was when I was loosening too deep that I found out you were a lost soul too–only worse. We didn’t know then that for the next nine years we would find ourselves entangled in a cycle of losing and finding. And that at the end of it, I would find myself exhausted by the twists and turns only to realize that I’ve wasted almost a decade losing myself for the wrong one; and that I’d eventually be searching and finding myself again alone.

Fast forward to the end… On the verge of almost making it, we found ourselves again seeking. I’ve found you so many times and I’ve held you but you kept falling through my fingers. Because you keep searching and searching when everything you need is right in front of you. You keep seeking when all that’s lost is you. You know the way but you won’t take the path; you won’t even look at it because I was there. You want me there, always there, without you actually being there at the same time. Everywhere you find me is a place of safety for you; but you won’t take refuge. Your lost mind has taught you to never to stop searching. Then I follow you and I see you losing it every single time. And I find you but you zone out. You zone out because you keep reaching on for what is never there… You keep wanting the thing that you never knew you always have. You have dismissed reality; and as real as I am, you have forsaken me too. Discontented, you’ve shunned the long journey that brought us where we are–found, but still searching. We’re verging on stupidity and the realm of inane uncertainty all because you’ve lost grip of what is real and what is imagined. Then you deceive yourself into hating what’s proven and wanting the unproven.

I want to keep finding you but I keep losing myself in the process. And I’ve got two tagging along as I follow you to lost cause without you acknowledging that they need you too. I have grown much into this losing and finding that I’ve learned finally when to stop. But you’re not keeping up with the cycle and it has outgrown you; like your kids outgrowing you. You want them to lose precious years finding you the same way I did for almost a decade?

I won’t let you. It has been excruciating for me to keep finding myself trapped in this helpless loop; watching you beautifully stuck in your immature searching–of pushing and pulling; rewinding and forwarding; wanting and rejecting. We are no yo-yo.

While you enjoy losing yourself again for the wrong things, I’m walking and not looking back in anger. You’ve lost me this time. For good.

Different Ways of Loving

There is no definition of love, except for the description provided in the Bible (1 Corinthians 13:4-8)

But songs and experience tell us there are different ways of loving a person, and they can be classified into three:

1. It means holding on. It’s obvious, especially if the other person feels the same way. But holding on when you’re unsure about his/her feelings means martyrdom.
2. It means letting go. And you have no choice if he/she doesn’t want you anymore. Forcing yourself would only hurt you more. So better let go and claim you’ve given up on him/her before he/she gave up on you.
3. Let it be. In gay lingo, it means kebs. If he/she loves you, then good for you. If he/she doesn’t, then good for you, too. You’d better not waste your time with the wrong person. And thank him/her you can finally move on to a better someone.

I do like Adele’s Someone Like You. But I don’t agree in finding someone like that person. Don’t you think you need someone better?

I know, this sounds bitter all together. But maybe, taking all these three ways within the context of love in the Bible means something really good. Holding on means forgiveness, that you’d still be a good Samaritan despite what the other person did. Letting go means patience, believing that someone you deserve will come — that “someone” may mean a better “you” or a better “one” for you. And letting it be means acceptance… And faith that Someone much greater than we are is in charge.

Or maybe all these is wrong analysis. Remember, that bible verse concluded that “Love never fails.”
So if it fails, it’s not love?

I don’t know but it does make sense. Why allow yourself to be so hurt about love when there’s no love to speak of? You were hurt for something else not love. And it does happen. We get hurt because we stumble, we get knocked off, we fail. We get hurt for so many possible reasons… For investing time and ambitions to the wrong person. But rejoice! Love will come your way. And perhaps, then, you can call it “first love”.

On Family and Familiarity

It is not a question that we only have one family no matter how long it extends to both sides of one’s parents. No matter how big the family is, the fact remains that each person only has one family tree which may keep on growing and growing but is never capable of breeding another tree apart from its own.

That is technically true, and, at the same time, constructively false. We are capable of not just branching out, but also building other families. Maybe not the genetic one, but one that you really internalize and consider a part of your being. We have friends that we consider our family, and the not-really friends in a strict sense.

Here’s the other family of the first situation.

A new family found in Batch Santikan, Ateneo Human Rights Center Sembreak Internship 2010.

And a family of the other kind:

My host family during AHRC's immersion program in Tamala, General Nakar, Quezon.

And our home. My partner and I have had a different family experience that is truly remarkable and unforgettable. Theirs is the family of true Filipino values.

Yes, I have made good use of my semestral break and found two new families to call my own.

The whole internship program was geared towards a familiarity of the different sectors and communities that are in need of our service. It enabled us to find a different perspective and a better outlook in life, and perhaps a deeper appreciation of our social responsibility. I also realized that we are not at all that different given the disparity in terms of civilization because they were able to welcome and embrace us as their own. This led me to understand that we too can relate easily with others despite our differences so long as we consider ourselves one within the same nation.

They are not the friends that we spend our every day with, wasting our resources to find comfort and happiness in little things. They are our fellowmen and now my family. Their plight is our fight.

Gratitude Mail

Dear Mister,

I would like to thank you for helping me cross one of the most difficult bridges that I have to encounter in this lifetime. I thought I’d never get through but I made it with you. My chances would have been  completely diminished have I not met you. So thank you.

Having met you is probably the most dreamy thing that has happened recently. I met hope upon meeting you. I thought hope was as endangered as the white tigers. Well, really you are rare and one of a kind, but you bring light into the room when you enter. Surely you are a blessing. And again, I thank you.

The first time I saw you, I felt for the first time that I can finally move on. I realized that there is much to hope for and that I can let go and hold on to a dream of a new life. My apprehensions of not finding one better than the one I had went gone in an instant. You took them all away, and took me with you. And with that, I thank you.

Every single day that our eyes meet, I am renewed. I want to smile like crazy at you. I have turned from dead to a new-born, and now finally kicking. Thank you.

I could not thank you more for it wouldn’t be enough. I can only let my words express my gratitude in an understated manner because I cannot let  my heart out. The thought of you frees the spirit within me. Lucky me, I guess. Now I have you to pray for everyday.

Thank you once again.

By the way, what’s your name? I don’t even know where to address this to. How can I get to you? Tell me.

Should be yours tomorrow,

Miss

Can Chamomile Be

… the CURE?

I remember a promise I have made before I entered law school: I would study harder than I ever did in my entire life. And I did just that. Even though I do not always get to read everything of what is required, still I have surpassed the study time I have spent from nursery to college.

And now school is getting more difficult; and most difficult in this stress-prone times. Ah yes, my insomnia is making things worse for me. I have been cutting some of my classes because I couldn’t fight the urge to continue sleeping.

I cannot depend on sleep supplements because they force me to complete a full cycle of sleep when I can only spend half of that to make time for study. I did buy a few more Sleepasils but they are reserved for the weekend. So I googled and found out that chamomile helps one relax and sleep well. So I’m trying out chamomile tea tonight.

So, could it really put me to sleep and relieve me from stress? I hope so.

Too much stress can really interfere with one’s emotions. In fact, it’s like I’m giving in to someone’s attempt to revive our failed relationship; just because of such impaired sense of reality. Yeah, sometimes a persistent person can squeeze mercy out of you. But no, not today. Maybe chamomile can help too and cleaar my head for tomorrow.

Ah… There is the ringing. Again.

The Request

Earlier today, he said he wouldn’t ask for anything but that we be in good terms for the sake of our child.

He made a statement before that, “sana hindi na ako mapahiya.” Well it’s not that I am subjecting him to any form of embarrassment (unless this is it), but that he’s hoping for my approval to such request.

I didn’t know what to say, but I did say something —  that it’s going to be hard since I am still in the process of wanting to be capable of forgiveness.

It’s sad to remember the past especially when it sometimes feels like it was just yesterday. But I did take liberty to ask him what gives him the confidence to ask me when he should also be avoiding me (because, in a way, I abandoned him after our last ‘battle’). It was a short answer, “Nami-miss kita, ‘yun lang ‘yun.”

I gave him not in a short statement but in a shorter spirit, “Makakalimutan mo rin ako.”

I Don’t Love You

It is a song by My Chemical Romance. And I’m listening, even singing along.

“When you go would you even turn to say, ‘I don’t love you like I did yesterday.'”

Today I am braving to listen to “Every Little Thing” by Dishwalla.

________________________

Yesterday *he made an attempt to reconnect. A futile one like the other day. Lucky for me, the FB chatbox is not cooperative in FGU as I was in the shower when he buzzed me last time. His messages kept popping up. That’s how busted the chat function is at my end.

So, that reminds me of his last few texts a month ago or so, when we were like more than a quarter apart already. He was telling me how unhappy he has become, emphasizing how great things were when we were still together. He also seemingly tried to make his perception of me being strong as an excuse for his actions. That I am responsible and wise enough to handle anything. And he’s right, except from the fact that how I am handling this now was the least he expected.

Listening to Dishwalla now makes me teary-eyed. Reminds me of a feeling that seemed so perfect. Reminds me of a card which I can’t remember when (since there were a number of them), where he quoted the song, “Wish I could be every little thing you want.” I still have those cards in my keeping and I don’t want to be reminded further. They might stir my compassion, if any. And now I quote, like I always quoted, “Would you find out who you are too late to change?”

Just a few hours ago, I had this rare opportunity to talk with his closest friend when the latter called me up for some other purpose. He was eventually brought up in the conversation as he has something to do with our serious subject. Hard as I may to avoid him being the subject this time, I simply said, “He’s never going to change.” I couldn’t remember how many times I said that, and those were the only things I said and all I could say about him.

Oh… He’s so yesterday. I am so determined to find my own future.

_______________________

Then playing… “You are my sweetest downfall…”

_______________________

Then… “Halo”. So in love again with no one. I am so inspired. I just feel I will really find a better future.

_______________________
*B

The Confessional

Because I am trying hard to balance work and school, I have decided I needed some inspiration. And there’s only Dashboard Confessional to keep me company. And though the idea of not being able to attend their recent concert in Manila punishes me, it doesn’t keep me from patronizing the band’s artistry and lyrical genius.

I'd kill for someone who can sing and write like him. I've never known anyone who can equal the genuine and sincere emotions of his music.

Random lines from Christopher Carraba:

But I’m dying to live.

Take notice, take interest, take me with you.

We are, we are intriguing. We are, we are desirable.

But all our fears fall on deaf ears.

It’s better to hold you and keep you pacified.

Won’t you hold me now? I will not bend, I will not break.

Maybe it’s love but it’s like you say, “Love is like a role that we play.”

But I believe in you so much, I could die from the words that you say.

Just found the pieces but they fit like they weren’t made for it.

My hopes are so high that your kiss would kill me. So won’t you kill me so I die happy?

So much for all the promises you made, they served you well. Now you’re gone and you’re wasted on me.

Color the coast with your smile, it’s the most genuine thing I’ve ever seen.

I think tonight I’ll take the long way.

Always assuming the worst but you’re going on nonetheless, and there’s nothing to cushion your heart led fall. Letters from further away keep pulling me close to home. And there’s something to cushion my callous sighs. And I know that you hope for longer good-byes embracing for forever and falling in your eyes.

I’m living in your letters. Breathe deeply from this envelope it smells like you and I can’t be without that scent. It’s filling me with all you mean to me.

There is no need to test my heart with useless space. These roads go on forever, there will always be a place  for you in my heart.

We’re not 21, but the sooner we are the sooner the fun. Grow up fast!

It doesn’t make it easier to be away. I’d like to hire a plane. I’d see you in the morning when the day is fresh. I’m coming home again. (These are like words from a soldier who’s sent on a mission.)

The harder I push the further I fall. Well you don’t mind me being headstrong.

Maybe it’s right but I can always, always, always be wrong.

A certain callousness complies in your charm and in your pride, a hopeful look draped in despise. I wanna give you everything you need. What is it you need? Is it what I need? Is it within me?

It seems our day keeps falling on a leap year.

She’s got a history of killing herself and I had a habit of dying. I think she’s given me something to live for… It’s cruel but she’s got a good hold on me.

(Intro music of “Stolen” — that is, if only I can write it. LOL)

And from the ballroom floor we are in celebration. One good stretch before our hibernation. Our dreams assured and we all, will sleep well.

You have stolen my heart.

You are the best one of the best ones. We all look like we feel.

If it is born in flames then we should let it burn, burn as brightly as we can. And if it’s gotta end, then let it end in flames.
Let it burn all the way down.

If this is ever meant to end, then I hope it ends where it began.

The road is now a sudden sea, and suddenly you’re deep enough to lay your armor down.

The lights will flash and fade away, the days will pass you by. Don’t wait to let your armor down.

And she pulled you in, and she bit your lip, and she made you hers, she looked deep into you as you lay together quiet in the grasp of dusk and summer. But you’ve already lost when you only had barely enough to hang on.

And she made you better than you’d been before.

And you held her looser than you would have if you ever could have known… Some things tie your life together, slender threads and things to treasure. Days like that should last and last and last.

We are still dreamers in our dead sleep, naked and tangled, twisted in love.

Heaven’s not waiting. It’s spilling its secrets. It’s right here between us, and we’ve no other choice but believe.

You are only strong enough to handle what I need.

We are compelled to do what we have been forbidden.

Our act of defiance, we keep this secret in our blood. No paper or letters. We pass just close enough to touch. We love in secret names, we hide within our veins the things that keep us bound to one another.

Your name is pounding through my veins.

Then I’m on my second round of the playlist, beginning with “Stolen”.

Oh, btw, I really like The Swiss Army Romance album. I can almost imagine myself having to battle a long-distance relationship with a soldier, which, btw, is highly improbable. It’s a classic, and I believe it has set the foundations for the mainstream emo music that we know of today. It’s so raw and genuine, almost hurting. When you hear Chris singing and playing the guitar, you will be reminded of Secondhand Serenade. And it’s quite the opposite to me — I remember Chris when I hear Secondhand Serenade so I’m not so impressed with the latter (although I really like “Your Call”, it’s so Dashboard).

Would it be weird to confess that his guitar speaks to me? I don’t know, but I get so emotional whenever I listen to his lead. How come some of his broken chords are not so broken at all? In fact, they are ironically clear as lenses to me. And when he sings, my heart would burst into tears as if they have eyes. LOL. No kidding, they are as real as tangible. And I can almost relate that to my crying over listening to “The Scientist”. (I’ll tell you about that next time.) Cliche and tautological, but Dashboard is the most amazing musician I know.

Dem. I feel so in love with no one.

"Careful now, you're so beautiful when you've convinced yourself no one else is quite as beautiful."

Dearest B

B*, you are my dearest but you failed me.

I thought protecting you only entails effort and sacrifice — but a rare effort and a selfless sacrifice of losing, and self-losing at that. I’ve gone blind and wounded, but you were hard and too cold to recognize it. I’ve reached out for you only to cripple me more. And every time, I’ve simply stood upon my lonely will. Uncomplaining, still submissive.

I was strong, B. It took years before I succumbed to emptiness, right when I was drained of power, and finally, devoid of love. Then came the death of me.

I was in deep darkness, always reaching and losing. I waited for you to save my soul, but you never came. I guessed I have always been alone and never knew it. And suddenly, after what seemed like forever, I was reborn… And hopefully, entirely a new person.

But who can be a new person without the past being wiped off? I have memories of you in my system, B. And they sometimes spread and attack like viruses do. Then maybe you weren’t meant to be my hero, because I was the hero who bled dry for you.

B, I realized that my death was not for the perfect villain, but for the revived being who is sometimes haunted by repugnance  and regrets. I have woken up becoming aware of how protecting you has meant giving up my own security. But I condemn you not for that part of me choosing to protect you but for that part of you willing to expose me. Yes, B, all those times, protecting you meant hurting me as it killed me. It was my choice, yes, and yours too. Every step I made to defend you was your every opportunity to crush me. You never needed help, B, I was the one who’s dying and you were never at my rescue. And despite all my pain, I ensured your comfort at my own expense… And all those pain I took for you because you let me, you wanted me to, you asked me to.

It may sound bitter to accuse you of being the most selfish person, but it can never be any worse than admitting this honest mistake and signing to this tragic fate.

B, I have resigned to recognizing the fact that you are incapable of love, and yet I have loved you.

*a different B from previous post

Move On, B.

We all live to tell, I believe that. Although this one is not based from my own experience, I feel moved to share what was bothering me a few minutes ago. And after Gossip Girl’s latest episode, Inglourious Bassterds, I hit my profile page to virtually shout out, “thought I wanted a Chuck for myself but realizes that, after what he did to Blair, he’s a total bastard. Don’t be sorry B, you don’t deserve a selfish boar.”

"I did what I had to, to win. I can't let all my feelings cost me all that I've built."

You guessed that right, I am totally frustrated that Chuck sold out his girlfriend, and you might as well be agitated too.

I have always admired the C and B tandem, always touched by how their cat and mouse plays turned into a real and serious relationship. And I even thought I wanted to find my own Chuck, ‘coz I’ve  always been drawn to bad-boy types, though unintentionally. At some point, I see myself doing everything that I can only to find the one person  I’m doing it for is a selfish-minded asshole. Don’t mind my words but consider. I would not have done what B did because I have a different belief, which is, self-preservation can actually be an act for others. But C seriously sold her out without her knowing. And I can’t explain the pain, though I shouldn’t be minding since B and C are just characters. But we can all relate one way or another. And maybe that can explain why there are words such as “trust” and “loyalty”.

Well, I can only complain. I am no part of the screenplay committee who, kudos to them, remarkably made a good story. People love the villain. People love the pain — although in a different context, as a matter of speaking.

We all have stories to tell, and theirs may be yours too.

To all Bs like me, let’s move on.

"All I ever did was love you."

Never Coming Home

Yeah,  it’s a line that says “I ain’t never coming home” from Keith’s “You’ll Think of Me”. And yeah, it is still on loop on my media player.

I don’t want to go through literary shit like I always do. But there’s no other way. And it’s like going home from work everyday. And the similarity is that, tautologically speaking, there’s no other way. I can’t compress my two-hour travel to two minutes. Too bad we don’t have those speedy transportation mechanisms they have in futuristic films. When are they coming anyway?

What I hate about my usual day is my long way home every day, not that it’s anything different from my long way to office, ‘coz it’s not that different in the first place. At least the latter is still two hours away. And it’s hell to me every morning… Taking long trips on board unfamiliar public vehicles with drained energy and an ironically active brain. Dang, who’s active-brained after a long day’s work, not to mention the lack of sleep due to some inverted day-work-graveyard-schedule ? And here I am, scribbling whatever my emotions cannot share feelings for and lamenting over what will be my most dreadful moment several minutes from now… Because I will be thinking of home as I head home, and ‘home’ is gone. Poor teary eyes. Good thing Keith is here, constantly reminding me of never coming home, at least, in a song.

Home is where I have spent five years of what seemed to be my whole life. Home which I almost single-handedly built. I left ‘home’. Now being this miserable runaway I keep trying to move farther away, every day, and it’s breaking my already-broken.

I sometimes dream of ‘home’ like it has never been damaged with the three of us like a real family. And I always end up wishing I had not waken up.  The old feeling of ‘home’ being revived only makes it harder. And on second thoughts, I wish of not having slept at all, I could not have dreamed.

I don’t want to go home right now and go through the usual thinking of ‘home’. Some people say that when you keep repeating the words you don’t want to speak, they become too familiar that it becomes needless to avoid speaking them. Hence it becomes easier to say those words all over again without having to go through negative feelings. But it does not seem to apply to this daily routine. And again, it only makes it harder, every single day.

So I don’t know where-to. Maybe a what-to is all I have. Maybe considering ‘moving to a new home’ a big option. Maybe a really huge home for two. Just maybe. And when that ‘maybe’ has been realized, then I’ll never have to deal with the complexities of my two-hour hell way home (referring to my tangible home). And I wish it to be a really big home for me and Paula, just me and her. Then I’ll be done wishing. And done wanting ‘home’.

But I know I always have who-to, who-tos actually. Thanks for my friends who never run tired of my litanies.