Pilit na winawalis
ang alikabok ng iyong alaala.
Mula sa itaas ng lamesa
hanggang sa ilalim ng sofa.
Pilit na tinatago,
palabas ng pintuan.
pagtingin mong muli
at bumabalik pa rin.
Found my old journal and saw this poem I wrote a few years ago (January 29, 2011).
“Patay! Nakita niya yung bad side ko!” (Shit! She saw my bad side!)
You told me that when I talked to you after you guys lost. Of course, that’s one of the things you were worrying about. With the referee making bad calls and some members of the opposing team playing it rough, you couldn’t help but make a short outburst while on court. On the side, she was watching the game, too. It was her first basketball game. She had no idea about basketball.
In my head, I would’ve told you, “It doesn’t matter.” If I were her, I would’ve liked to see more of that side–the things that make you tick, what annoys you, how and when you get angry. Your bad side is what makes you you, along with the good. Without them, I don’t think you would become the person I have learned to love. You were enough.
I accept you, for all that you are. But I know it is not my acceptance you’re yearning for.