Tag Archives: life

A little bit


I still keep the stress ball you gave me. You gave it to me at the right time, just when I was panicking about the major test I was about to have in the next few hours then. In the middle of cramming, we got together and had lunch. My mind was drifting off to the test topics I was trying to remember when you called me back to consciousness and showed me what you nicked from the org room. “It was lying there and I secretly got it. It reminded me of you.” You smiled and, immediately, all the voices in my head started to hush. A certain calm took over me and it was one that I needed. You gave it to me. You were always the calm one.

So, tell me, even after all the neverending conversations, stolen glances, and secret smiles, you never felt anything for me?




When I told you how I felt about you, this was the thing I feared the most–the awkwardness, that silence preceding how we would eventually drift apart. You see, that was one of the things I was thinking of, when I was having an internal debate on whether I should do it or not. In the end, I did. And now, we’re here.

In your letter, you told me how you would understand me if I would stay away from you for a while, for me to “let my feelings fade.” Then, when the feelings are gone, we can go back to being the kind of friends we were before. We’d go back to normal. I hope it was that easy, how taking some time off from each other would erase what happened (or didn’t happen) between us. But the thing is, it can’t.

There are times when I wish I didn’t tell you that I liked you. If I didn’t, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe we wouldn’t be walking on broken glass, careful to say words that might hurt the other (or at least hint at how hurt we–or, at least, I–are). This is what the time off from each other is for, for both of us to heal. Or, for the most part, for me to heal, to move on. You already told me you only see me as your best friend. Even though I would’ve prefered you tell me how much you like me too, that’s still better than nothing. I can live with that. At least I know I hold a special place in your heart.

Even though it’s only been a few days since we last talked, I realized how being MIA won’t help us that much. We’ve opened a Pandora’s Box of some sort. We can’t go back to how we were before; we can’t undo what was done nor pretend it didn’t happen because it did. By the time we see each other again for coffee after a period of being absent from each other’s lives, I bet the feelings would come rushing in. All those weeks spent in covering up the dust left by unrequited feelings and unreturned ones will probably go to waste. In that single moment, by the time I see you and your dazzling smile, I know how my heart will beat twice its regular rhythm, like it’s been conditioned to be that way whenever you’re there. Or maybe, it won’t beat that fast but I know there will be a whisper in my ear, saying, “That’s the guy you loved.”

So, I think it’s best if we let time take the reins. No complete detachment for both of us. We can still talk to each other, ask how we’re doing, have random conversations that made me fall for you in the first place. It will be awkward at the start, I know, but isn’t that how we started as friends? Maybe, in time, the feeling will fade, you might learn to like me, or we will still be hurting for both of our loves that were unreturned. But at least we didn’t drift apart. Did I tell you how I have the bad habit of just letting my friendships fade?

People ask me what makes you different from the others. I always tell them that what we had was based on a solid friendship, one we carefully built without the prying eyes of others. It is one which grew from a common love of Fall Out Boy and all the other bands and songs we spent listening to, each song bringing up different memories from both of us. It is a relationship which was a result of seeing each other’s vulnerabilities and secrets, and accepting them without hesitations.

And I guess that’s why I won’t let this friendship fade. I’ll hold on to you, to us. You can tell me to let go (for a while) but I won’t. I choose not to. For now, let me be a friend, if that’s all I can ever be.

coffee (n.)


Late-night conversations and spontaneous movie viewing with you always seem to be the highlight of my day. We can talk for endless hours non-stop that I begin to wonder if this is how it feels to have time stop for you, for our little secret, for us. Before we know it, it’s already 4 o’clock in the morning and it’s time to sleep. We don’t need to worry, though. We know that when night falls, the honesty of the late hour draping over us, we know we can find each other again. You keep me up at night and I don’t mind.

Awkward hugs and reading subtexts


The day I received the news that I would be graduating First Honorable Mention instead of Valedictorian, as most people expected me to be, the first thing that came to mind was, “How in the world am I going to tell my parents?” I know I may have been overthinking that time but I dreaded having to see my mom during lunch time. I expected her to get angry at me, scold me, and tell me how disappointed she was for what I had not achieved. So come lunch and with the egging of my friends (I had them come with me for support), I told her the news. I was already bracing for the worst when she calmly said, “Ingana gyud na. Maayo gihapon.” (That’s how it is. That’s still good.) I could not believe my ears. Then, we went out to eat.

You see, my mom’s not all that bad. In fact, she’s been everything but. All this time, she’s been supportive of me and the things I do and have achieved. She’s always been there for us, preparing our school stuff, and being that father figure my brother and I sometimes long for whenever our dad is away from home because of work. Then again, I sometimes wish our relationship would be more than just casual conversations. I imagined myself talking to her about that cute guy who happened to pass by the hallway or how there’s this girl who’s a total snob.

Then again, when I think about it, I think I’m okay with what I have. I guess there’s a certain and subtle understanding whenever we tell each other “okay” or “God bless” as you can see if you’ll check our SMS conversations. I guess I’ve learned that you don’t really have to show you care for someone in an obvious, the-whole-world-can-see-it kind of way. You show it through the things you do; you make them feel it.


Meh, thank you very much for everything. It’s funny crazy how we grew closer now that I’m living in the dorm. Thank you for always looking out for us, for putting Adrianne and me ahead of you and your happiness, for all the sacrifices that you made for us. I know for a fact you made a big one when you decided to have me and I hope you’re happy with that decision. Thank you for always filling in daddy’s shoes whenever he’s away and for being a good wife to him, making us understand why he’s where he is most of the time. I’m sorry for the times I failed and/or disappointed you, for the times when I thought you didn’t care. I was being rebellious, pretty stupid, really.

The way I see it, you’ve raised us well. Adrianne turned out to be a good guy, fun-loving yet still respectful and responsible. As for me, I’m going to graduate and show you and daddy how all your hardwork was all worth it. I’ll help you out once I get a job. We’ll go to different places–Hong Kong, Korea, Paris, you name it–and I’ll shower you with the love you deserve.

So there. Happy mother’s day! 🙂

On choosing the stairs over the escalator


I wish I could have a more meaningful reason why I like taking the stairs instead of the escalator. “I got into an accident when I was a kid. I got stuck on one of the steps.” Trauma or an accident would’ve sufficed. But no, It’s not that. I guess I just like walking. I tell myself it’s good exercise. Yes, it’s true but more than that, there’s something exhilarating about walking, about getting to drag my feet, one after the other. That feeling of movement which eventually turns into a certain kind of calmness, of stability. When I walk, I get to clear my mind. Although I do get to think of the most random stuff, the noise in my head lowers down to a hush. When I move, I feel like I am one with the world.

It’s inevitable anyway


True story: After reading Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman last January (it was around New Year when I read it), I kind of began this paranoia that I would die soon (read: that night). I wasn’t able to sleep, or at least tried to postpone it, because I thought it would stop It from happening. At least, not until much later on in my life.

Crazy, right?

By Mikko Ona

By Mikko Ona

I just came from Mikko’s wake this afternoon together with the other Speple and I just can’t help but be overwhelmed by everything. I don’t really know her that much, aside from she worked on the Splayday poster which was awesome, but I could totally sense that she was a bright person, radiating her love and warmth to everyone around her. This was all based on the pictures and letters they put up.

Being the sometimes-emotionally attached person that I am, I managed to hold it in then I overheard this man talking to her dad:

Guy: What was her major?
Dad: ComTech.
Guy: So she wanted to be like you?

I dunno why, really, but I think that hit me. She could’ve gone on, have a career, and be like her dad. I wonder how he felt after hearing that. We only have 2 weeks until finals week and one more year until we graduate. Yet, she died. 😦 I’d like to believe that everyone gets to Go eventually–death is inevitable–but I guess her time was just too soon.


My overactive mind then tried to work its magic…

What if it happened to us? What if I died? What would my parents feel? What if my brother would die ahead of me? Will I ever be able to handle it and still stay sane?

I know I’m overreacting to this but I can’t help it. We’ve had our fair share of relatives or just people we know die before. We’ve attended their wakes, their funerals, and we think they’re enough to prepare us for Death. Yet, when it happens, we find that we can never be ready. We’re wrong. It’s still the same hurt and grief and sadness and maybe even regret that grips us every time something like this happens.

Then again, I wish I could be prepared.



I have a problem.

I can’t really connect with people. Or maybe this is just me. It’s like a song, a piano piece, in decrescendo. It starts out really well then, gradually, I find myself drifting, away from people, back to my own little world.

Nakakagat lamang.

I’m there, I experience things but I don’t really Experience anything. Almost everything’s shallow. I can remember significant moments but I mostly just remember the details, not the overwhelming feeling I had when it happened. I touch on a certain topic, brush past it, and never really explain it in detail.

Just like this.