English, Life, Poetry, Thoughts, Uncategorized

To the man I love, my soulmate

I like to think that we are reincarnations of our past selves. That hundreds of years ago, we promised that we would find each other again. That we would fall in love all over again, like it was the first time we fell for someone.

I like to think that this separation of ours is only temporary because in our next lives, the universe will conspire to bring us together, that we would meet again under better circumstances. That even though we have no recollection of our past, it would still feel like we have known each other before, loved each other before, that each time, when we held hands, when we are in each other’s arms, it would feel like we were born for that moment, for the sole purpose to be together.

There will be quiet nights when we would look at the stars and you would wrap your arms around me as I sit in your lap. I would hug you back and caress your shoulder, the back of your neck, run my fingers through your hair. You would undress me like you were unwrapping a gift and kiss every part of me, even the ones I hate the most. And I would hate them a little less because you said you loved them. We’d lie in bed and I would hug you closer and while I sleep, you would kiss my forehead, my eyes, the bridge of my nose, my lips, and you would whisper, “I love you so much.” We’d cuddle and share our deepest thoughts, dreams and plans for the future.

In that life I would still drive you crazy and I’d still be breaking my walls to love you back. But in that life, we won’t have to run after time, or make do with the stolen moments we had. We can spend as much time together as we want, hold hands where we are. We’d never care about the people around us because they won’t matter. In both this life, and that one, I will still fall, deeply, madly, in love with you. I will still feel consumed by your love. My breath will quiver whenever you kiss me, my body will still tremble at your proximity and my heart will still beat as fast whenever you touch me.

But right now, in this life, I will hold your hand and tell you about the things I liked the most. I would leave random notes on your table and hope that you would love them. I will tell you about this song that I’ve been listening to lately and smile when you would sing it the next time we are together. I’d wait for your phone call every single day, and I would savor the sound of your voice. I would think about you when I eat my favorite food or whenever I would buy my favorite ice cream. On nights when I couldn’t sleep and every part of me is asking, “Where is he and why isn’t he here?” I would hug your jacket closer and try to see you in my dreams. We will talk about how our days went, how we missed each other even when we’re still together and how perfect it would have been if we could just stay in that moment. There will be times when I would think, “In another life, we would have been perfect for each other,” and when I look at you, I would know you were thinking the same.

English, Poetry, Uncategorized

To the first man I ever loved

It’s not an exaggeration when I said you were my sun. From the first moment we met, there was some sort of gravitational pull that attracted me to you, that even though I tried to escape from it, I couldn’t.
I was trapped in orbit, helplessly revolving around you as though my life depended on it. You were everything to me. My hopes, my dreams, my plans, they came alive at the touch of your proximity. You made me want for something else and you broke down the walls I built around me. With the first brick you pried loose, sunlight came trickling in. I fell, hard, mesmerized at this soft light that I hadn’t seen in a while. It was like I was seeing colors for the first time.
But I was only one planet and you had the entire universe before you. You were always looking at stars beyond your solar system, reaching planets your light couldn’t reach. And for a moment, when I thought I had your heart in my hand, comets came passing by and your eyes followed them, longing for adventures and places I’ve never been to. You were my sun but I was only one planet and I could never quite reach you. Our lives merely collided but we never really fit together.
I have found my place, my moment and I plan to keep it even if you aren’t there. Yes, you were my sun. But that was before. You aren’t now and you won’t be in the future.
You are only a fracture of a moment, a fleeting memory I will look back to from time to time. A random thought that would make me smile and hope that you finally found what you wanted, that life had been kinder to you than it was to me. You were a lesson I had to learn but you were never mine to keep.

Journaling, Poetry, Story of Us

His Name

I heard your name for the firs time in ten months today. The sound of your name stirred unbidden thoughts in my mind, as if someone threw a pebble in the pond to watch the dirt drift to the surface. I wanted to know if you were okay, if you finally got what you wanted and if life had been nicer to you than it was to me. But when I found out that you asked about me, my heart pounded a little bit faster. I wasn’t prepared for that and I was taken aback, as though I was sucked inside a wormhole, traveling back to that night when we were standing underneath the lamppost and the light illuminated your eyes, making it appear brighter than it really was. I thought at that moment, “The stars were made for us.”
I blinked and found myself staring out into space, seeing the silhouette of your body as if they were taped inside my eyelids. I thought about how it would be if I would suddenly see you standing there in front of me, our distance only an arm’s length. I doubt I could look you in the eye. I’m scared of what I might see in them. But mostly, I’m scared of what I might feel, because honestly, after all this time, I’m still not ready.

Diary, Journaling, Life, Poetry, Tagalog, Thoughts

Matuto Kang Magpalipad ng Saranggola

Everyone loves kites by Balakov

Matuto kang magpalipad ng saranggola.
Matuto ka at huwag mong pahahawakan sa iba,
baka mabitawan niya at tangayin
ng hangin at di niya habulin,
baka iwan niyang nakasabit sa sanga, o nakabitin
sa bakod o nag-kalat sa isang sulok.

Matuto kang magpalipad ng saranggola.
Matuto ka at huwag mong iiwan sa iba,
baka mapagod siya sa kakahawak at itali
niya kung saan at pagkatapos ay iwan
na mag isang lumalaban sa init at hangin
at pag bumagsak ay di niya pulutin.

Matuto kang magpalipad ng saranggola.
Matuto ka at kung tangayin ng hangin ay iyong habulin.
Matuto ka at kung bumagsak ay iyong pulutin.
Matuto kang magpalipad ng saranggola.
Matuto ka at kung magkaroon ng punit ay matutunan mong ayusin.

Poetry

7 Things I Learned From the Universe

1. The earth is not a sphere and nothing is ever as it seems.

2. No one is perfect, even the sun has dark spots.

3. Stars are huge balls of hot gas, too far away to reach and touch. I forgot that when I pinned you up there in the sky, thinking that you would remain permanent like the North Star. But you never looked back and went too far and I can’t reach you anymore.

4. You can come to the point of loving someone so much you burst like a supernova, scattering lights so brilliant one would think of stars being born. But when the lights run out, you’re left with a dead star and a black hole.

5.Heartbreak is like a black hole; it sucks the happiness from you. Its gravitational pull is so strong that you can’t escape from it. It warps your sense of time that you can’t figure out exactly whether you’re somewhere between the past and the present or are you dwelling in the idea of what should have been.

6. The earth cannot revolve backwards and I can never turn back the time. You can hold back your tears but you can’t pull it back once it falls. You can only hope that someone is there to wipe the tear stains from your face and erase the saltiness from your lips.

7. When I was eight years old they told me that Pluto was the last planet in the solar system. But 4 years later, they said that Pluto was no longer a planet, that it does not have the capability to clear away objects from its path, that it was just not good enough.

Loving you felt like that. It felt like waiting for a hundred years just to be a little bit closer to you but I cannot jump over orbits and meteors and fell short that you turned your back on me.

I’m sorry for not being enough, for not loving you the way she did, for not being the answer to your what ifs and what could have been. I’m sorry for being your mistake.

I tried wishing upon stars, hoping to find love at the edge of the galaxy but even heavenly bodies cannot give you something they do not have. And I waited, and am waiting still, for that someone who will stand up and say, “You will always be enough,” the same way that others have fought for Pluto’s planetary status. Someone who will hold my hand and it will mean the world to him. And each time that I say, “I love you,” he will say, “I love you too.”

Diary, English, Journaling, Life, Poetry, Thoughts

This is our story

Words are not what they used to be,
back when each word you wrote carried the weight of your hand
and with it the stories of how you learned to write
and the mistakes that taught you how.

Typewritten words are so swift and quick it has taken away
the beauty and art of writing. It does not
teach you how the wrong words, even when erased, leave a mark.
Your fingers do not carry the weight of perfecting your handwriting, you just choose
whichever font suits you and format it within seconds.
It had become a habit you’re used to doing that repeating it
over and over again
takes away everything until it becomes
nothing.

That is our story.
A bunch of words that never carried the weight of our lives
that it always left us feeling empty. We tried to bridge the gap
with words, filling the empty spaces.
But when you fill emptiness with nothing, it implodes.
And every time we made a mistake, we jumped
one step back and pretended that it never happened.
We did this over and over again that the marks our mistakes left became
permanent, we forgot it was never there when we started.

I asked you to write me a letter,
one that carried the weight of your hand, the heaviness of your thoughts,
one that carried stories of mistakes, of revisions, because you wanted your
handwriting to be perfect. But you didn’t. Instead,
you gave me one printed from a computer shop across the street because
you were too lazy to set up your printer.
The words sounded poetic, it was an ocean I had to dive deep into.
But it meant nothing.

I knew you typed that letter in five minutes, that
you didn’t bother to think of the words in advance because
you knew that you could always press delete whenever you wanted to.
You would right click one of the words and check out its synonyms
because you thought it would make the words sound better. But it didn’t.
Your letter lost its meaning from the very moment you typed it in your computer screen.

If only.
If only we learned from the start that empty words
would never fill the space between us. Maybe we wouldn’t have hearts
jagged and broken because our pieces never fit together.
Maybe we would never make those mistakes over and over again. Maybe we would never
pretend that we felt warm when we wrapped our arms around each other,
maybe we would have the strength to let go because
we knew we were better on our own.
If only. But we didn’t.

Poetry, Uncategorized

Paano Umibig ang Isang Halaman

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Paano Umibig ang Isang Halaman

Paano nga ba umibig ang isang halaman?
Paano ba nangyari na ang isang dating ako na kahit kailan ay hindi tumingin sa iba, na hindi nakaramdam ng kahit ano ay bigla na lamang nahulog sa iyo.
Nahulog at umamin sa sarili na gusto kita, gusto kitang talaga.

Gusto kong tinatanong mo ako kung kamusta na ako,
kung okay lang ba ako, kung saan ako papunta
o kaya kung saan ako galing,
dahil yan ang nagiging patunay na kabilang ako sa mundong ginagalawan mo,
yan yung mga pagkakataon na nararamdaman ko
na may puwang ako sa buhay mo, gaano man kaliit ang puwang na yun,
na hindi lang ako hangin na dumadaan sa paligid mo,
na hindi lamang ako isa sa milyung milyong patak ng ulan na dumadampi sa iyong balat,
na hindi lamang ako isa sa mga sinag ng araw na tumatama sa iyong pisngi.

Gusto kong nakakasabay kang kumain, nakakasama kang naglalakad
at sa tuwing nagkukwento ka ng mga pangarap at plano mo
sa buhay, lumulukso yung puso ko, lumulukso at natutuwa
na paunti-unti kitang nakikilala.
Nalalaman ko ang mga bagay na nagpapasaya sayo,
ang mga bagay na ayaw mo,
ang mga bagay na gusto mong maabot,
ang mga bagay na nagbibigay sa yo nang pagaalinlangan.

Gusto kong laging nakikita ang iyong ngiti sa tuwing
nag kakasalubong tayo o kaya ay nakikita mo ako,
yan ang bumubuo sa araw ko, ang pumapawi sa pagod
na aking nararamdaman, ang nagbubura sa mga linyang
nagpapakunot ng aking noo.
Gusto kong tumitingala sayo, dahil sa tuwing ginagawa
ko yun, para na rin akong nakatingala sa mga bituing
tutupad sa aking mga kahilingan.

Ikaw ang kamay na dahan-dahang bumunot sa aking mga ugat,
na nag-alis sa akin sa lupang kinatatamnan. Masaya akong
humimlay sa iyong mga palad, habang nararamdaman ko
ang init ng iyong balat at pag pintig ng iyong pulso.

Ngunit, ano mang halaman ang bunutin sa lupa
ay nalalantahan ng dahon, natutuyuan ng sanga,
napuputulan ng ugat.
Nalalanta, natutuyo, namamatay, itinatapon.

At sa aking pagkahulog at paglagapak sa lupa,
hindi lamang nabasag ang aking puso kundi maging
ang mga maliliit na pirapiraso ay nadurog. Hindi ko na alam
kung paano ako babangon, hindi ko alam kung paano ako muling magsisimula.
Hindi ko na alam kung paano kong pupulutin ang bubog ng aking puso
dahil ang sakit pala.

Ang sakit pala. Ang sakit pala na nakikita mo ako pero di mo ako
nakikita, na nag-uusap tayo pero hindi tayo nag-uusap,
na mag-kasama tayo pero hindi tayo mag-kasama.
Ang sakit palang umiyak habang kumakain
dahil alam ko na sa mga oras na yun kumakain ka
at hindi ako ang kasama mo,
ang sakit na naglalakad ako pauwi ng mag-isa at alam ko
na sa mga oras na yun, naglalakad ka rin at iba ang iyong kasama.

Anong nangyari? San ako nagkamali?
May nagawa ba akong masama?
Gusto kong itanong yan sayo. Gusto kong malaman,
gusto kong ayusin ang lahat sa atin. Ngunit papalayo ng papalayo ang
mundo nating dalawa.

Gusto kong kausapin mo ulit ako, na makasabay ka ulit na kumain,
na makasama kang maglakad, na makita ulit yung dating ngiti
na inilalaan mo sa akin, yung mga sulyap na ibinibigay mo sa akin.
Ako na lang ulit, ako na lang sana.
Sana, sana, sana.

Pero, kung hindi natin maaayos to,
kung hindi na natin maibabalik ang nakaraan, kung hanggang dito na lang tayo,
gusto kong malaman mo na mahal kita, na
mahal na mahal kita. At kung darating man ang oras, ang panahon
at ang pagkakataon na mamahalin mo ako tulad ng pagmamahal ko sayo,
na hindi tayo hahadlangan ng sitwasyon,
handa akong maghintay. Handa akong maghintay para sayo.

Ngunit kung yan ay pilit na ipagkakait ng tadhana, tatanggapin ko na lamang
ang katotohanan na kahit kailan hindi magiging tayo,
na kahit kailan walang tayo, meron lamang ikaw,
meron lamang ako.

Pagkatapos, ipipinid ko ang pintuan at isasara ang bintana ng aking
puso, ipipikit ang aking mga mata at tatakpan ang aking mga tenga para
hindi na kita marinig, para hindi na kita makita,
para hindi na kita maramdaman.

Maglalakbay ako sa kabila ng dilim patungo sa lugar
kung saan sa muling pagmulat ng aking mga mata,
isa ka na lamang hangin na dumadaan sa aking harapan, isa ka na lamang
sa milyung milyong patak ng ulan na dumadampi sa aking balat,
isa ka na lamang sa mga sinag ng araw na tumatama sa aking pisngi.

At darating ang araw na isa ka na lamang litratong nakaipit sa lumang libro,
maalikabok at hindi nabubuklat, darating ang araw na isa ka na lamang alaala, naibaon sa limot at di na binabalikan, darating ang araw na masasabi kong “Ito na. Ito na talaga. Ito na talaga ang huling tulang iaalay ko para sayo.”

Tapos na. Wala na. Wala ng tayo, meron lamang ikaw at meron lamang ako.