Chapter's End

Perhaps the hardest part of learning to love is learning to let go. Everyone who loves must deal with this reality. It doesn't matter what the cause of separation is: fighting, loving someone new, growing apart, dying.. It's something we all have to face when we dare to let ourselves fall in love.

I've been trying to move on, but it's so hard when the feelings you are trying to forget are still fresh. It's hard when you've decided from the very start that you'll make "this" last. I've been looking and I've found nice people; good looking people, all of them to my liking. Everything would be perfect if not for one thing: I've fallen in love with someone, and that above anything else makes all the difference.

I was at the gym the other day, getting back to my routine after a month of busy yet blissful days when a friend called me. He asked me how I was and I said I was fine. I told him that this isn't the first time I had my heart crushed and sad to say, I don't think it wouldn't be the last. A few minutes after I said goodbye, he sent me a message. It read: "Love comes from the deepest part of your heart. That's the reason why you die deep inside when you lose the one you love; because she took a piece of your heart and left a hole within you that a new love can't mend." I stopped right there and contemplated on how true those words are.

I have a hollow space in my chest. I've felt it grow over the past few days. Sometimes while driving, I would have a hard time breathing. It feels like someone is reaching into your gut and is squeezing your insides. I feel empty; like I'm not completely there. I know that in time, I'll learn to forget. Time, in all its wisdom makes amends for broken hearts and desolate years. But this consolation doesn't make things easier. This consolation doesn't ever fill that space in your heart. Time may bury your feelings, but I've known from experience that buried emotions have a knack of digging itself out when you are most vulnerable and make you remember things you'd rather not.

I often ask myself why I allow myself to feel such pain? Why does pain come to me like this? I'm a good guy. I deserve to be loved and be appreciated. I deserve to be happy. What have I done that's so horrible to make me deserve this? Should I even bother? Should I even try?

I want to end this story, and I'm starting here. I'll move on like I always have and once again start anew. So ends the final chapter of My so-called life.

fall back in and stay

When I was younger, I fell in love with someone whom I considered as my universe. This love however, was never meant to blossom. I loved her, but I loved her in the shadows. And although I know that she knew I was there, she never reached out her hand for me.

So I wrote a story. It was the story of my young, adolescent life. And in that story, I wrote these words:

"All my life I've been alone, pretending that I like it that way ------ but there's no hiding beneath a lie ... I was looking for someone to love. Just my luck ----- I found her, but she loves someone else. It can't be helped. You don't choose whom you love. You can't force anyone to love you either. But no denying, it hurts. Maybe it's time for me to be alone again. Love can't be denied, and it breaks my heart .........."

So, alone I was. Hurting. Longing. But at the same time, I was learning. I was learning to appreciate the wonders of a feeling that coulds you mind and make you fly even on dark days.
I've recently lost another and the words I used before still hold true. It really hurts. Especially when you've had a taste of what that love had to offer.

"my life suddenly had meaning when you became mine."

I wish I could have more. I wish I could win you back somehow. But I don't know what to do. And I don't know if you'll have me back. I just wish that you'll fall back in someday. Fall back in and stay.

Fuck 'em all!!!

i was in the middle (or nearing the end) of a very busy day at work when i decided to read an e-mail my mom sent me. it's something ophra wrote. it's about being thankful. and it reminded me that i should be thankful for the big things and the little things in life.

so there i was, thankful that i have something to look forward to by the end of the day. and at the very last minute, that got canceled. i cannot say how pissed-off i am. really. my patience is barely holding. and i'm realizing that there is some other thing that i should be thankful for. i'm thankful that i love myself enough not to let myself fall into a trap where i would end up hurting myself more. i know when i get to calm down, i'd re-evaluate my current situation and probably take a different stand on it but as of the moment, i am really considering breaking ties with people who obviously do not care how i feel. hey, i've done it before and i can do it again. fuck it!

morning rants

i just let 59k slip through my hands in 1 hour! That's not counting the 6k I spent yesterday. sigh. bills. i hate bills. good thing i'm earning enough to compensate for my lifestyle (although sometimes, I feel like i'm still not earning enough). four years ago, I would have bashed myself on the head and scream, "ARE YOU CRAZY??!!!!" I'm tempted to do that right now. In a few years time, I hope to see myself doing the same thing only I wouldn't want strangle myself after because I'm a big success in whatever business I'm going to put up. The problem is, I still have no idea what business I should jump into.

i've finished reading the first two short stories of Neil Gaiman's "Smoke and Mirrors". The first story was amazing. Only Gaiman could think of writing a story about an old British lady buying the Holy Grail from a thrift shop.

i did not dream of flight last night and that somehow makes me sad considering that i really need it right now. maybe i'll have that dream in my afternoon nap.

i'm munching of what seems to be ravioli. good stuff. i wonder where mama got 'em.

i've been burping non-stop since yesterday. I have no idea why. I think I'll ask lola for some Gas X. Note, I'm burping, not farting (I know Trizha will have some wild retort so to be safe...)

thirsty. i love wheat bread but somehow it dries my throat a lot faster. gotta go grab a glass of water.

wishing for a dream of flight

"Writing is flying in dreams. When you remember. When you can. When it works. It's that easy."

Neil Gaiman has a way with words; almost like magic. Among all the contemporary writers, he is my favorite. It is like he's my own personal writer, working on an art just for me.

Writing is as easy as flying when you deam about flying. You don't bother with the "hows". You don't think of the "impossibles". You just take to the air and fly like you've been born to do so.

Everytime I dream of flying, I wake up renewed. It's like all my probelms, heartaches, concerns and loathing are thrown in the air. I feel light-hearted. I feel happy. And suddenly, just like that, I know what to do with my life. It is like a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

I wish I would dream of flying tonight because I need to feel that sense of renewal once more. Always with a straight face, I go into my world of shit. I deal with the everyday complexities of work, relationships, responsibilities and loneliness. It is a world I try to paint with surreal images of smiles. And I usually can handle the challenge. But sometimes, I just want to take a break from everything. I want to recharge. And the crap that i care for throws at me is not helping.

There's this story of a robot and a sparrow that I love.

Once there was a robot jettisoned with the rest of the week's garbage. He fell silently to the ground. There he did something he had never done before. He rested. Winter faded and the sun rose earlier now. It also set later every evening. But he laid still on the ground. He never moved. He never talked. That was, until a sparrow came and landed on his head. The robot said "hello" and startled the sparrow who flew away. But the robot chased after him calling out, "Wait! Bird! Hello? Bird? Biiirrrd!" The sparrow, observing the robot from a branch flew to the robot and said, "you startled me, there. What exactly are you?" And so the robot and the sparrow became friends.

the robot had many question about sparrow's world, so their days were filled with exploring and discovery. Everyday the robot would climb up a tree and wake the sparrow from the branch where he slept. They run down hills, poke sticks in the river, explore caves, and watch bees in their hives. The robot would keep the sparrow dry during rains, and watch the skies when the sun was out. The sparrow introduced the robot to the other creatures of the forest and they would run and play, and at the end of the day, they would sit underneath a tree and just watch the sun come down.

One day, while exploring, the sparrow asked the robot, "What do robots dream about?"

"What's dream?" asked the robot.

"Hmmm..." the sparrow replied. Though the sparrow had a very clear idea of what dreaming was in his own head, he found it was a very hard thing to explain... At length the sparrow decided that dreaming was something left for the birds, and dwelled upon it no more."

As the year wore on the sun rose later in the morning and set earlier in the day. the robot was amazed at how much the landscape was changing around him.

"Sparrow! What's happening to all the leaves?"

"They are old and falling off the trees. Next year's leaves are coming soon and need room to grow. Soon, the trees will be bare... The flowers gone... And the insects will hide themselves away. Winter is coming."

They both fell silent as they went through the cold, dying land.

"Robot?"

"Yes, sparrow?"

"The first snowflake will soon fall. It will become too cold for me here. All of the birds fly south to warm lands where it is always summer and where there is plenty to eat."

"I can go with you," said the robot.

The sparrow landed on one of the robot's fingers and said, "where we go is very far away... Not even legs as strong as yours can take you there."

It pained the robot to hear the sparrow's words, but he soon conceded. Their time was too short to be strained with worry.

The nights became longer and the forest grew cold and still. Soon, the first snowflake fell. And the robot knew it was time for the sparrow to leave. So he held the sparrow with both hands, have him a hug and let the sparrow go. The robot climbed up a tree and watched the sparrow disappear into the sky. And when the sparrow was gone, he was left alone. He walked down the hills, knee-deep in snow. He crossed the frozen rivers. And went back to the place where he first met the sparror.

That night, for the first time, the little robot dreamed.

The last page of the story showed the robot and the sparrow flying together. It was and is still one of the most beautiful stories I've ever read. Now I'm here like the robot and I am feeling lonely once more because certain things that are important to me are not working out. It's like I'm losing my sparrow and I can't follow. And I'm here, hoping that I would have that dream of flight. I'm hoping that I could be with my sparrow. I'm hoping for another summer in my life where the sun is up and the grass are green...

I wish I would dream of flight tonight...

just a guy...

it's been years since that gloomy school day when i first realized that "slow-motion, music-filled" moments you see in television and moview can actually come true. i smile whenever i think of that day. i smile whenever i think of her. amy. after all these years i still have this longing for her which i cannot truely explain. could it be obsession? perhaps. could it be that i'm just feeling competetive; too stubborn to admit defeat? that's possible. could i still be in love with her after years filled of what-ifs? i'd like to say no but i guess it's not improbable.
at this point of my life, i'm starting to see things a little different. i no longer pity myself for having loved and lost. i no longer write poems of longing which i keep to myself (although i still go through my work every now and then and feel astonished at how expressive i could be). i no longer create hopeful scenarios in my head that amy and i would bump into each other somewhere and i would gallantly sweep her off her feet. no. at this point of my life, i am more concerned with achieving my professional goals. and so far, i'm on track. my compensation now is more than double what i used to get when i got out of college. and my colleagues and contacts in the proffession i've chosen are all proffesionals from different parts of the globe.
yet i am, and will probably always be a romantic. and moments such as these when i suddenly recall the crazy love-spoiled hopelessness of my youth, is a beautiful reminder of that; a reminder that although my priorities may change over time, i will always be me: a poet. a romantic. an idealist. an emotional mess. totally scrwed-up. with problems just like anyone else. and that's okay.
so here i am, looking at this distant image of a boy who is hurting and i can't help but smile at the beautiful drama of it all. a guy in love with a girl who is in love with someone else. a few years back, i would have called the life of that boy a very sad tragedy. now, i can honestly and sincerely say that the life of that boy was pretty much okay. there is no such thing as a perfect life but life can be filled with perfect moments. and at that moment, that boy learned to love unconditionally. it was a perfect moment that would always bring a smiling memory.