Monday, April 25, 2005
What Love Is
I have a friend who is falling in love. She honestly claims the sky is bluer. Mozart moves her to tears. She has lost 15 pounds and looks like a cover girl. "I'm young again!" she shouts exuberantly.
As my friend raves on about her new love, I've taken a good look at my old one.
My husband of almost 20 years, Scott, has gained 15 pounds. Once a marathon runner, he now runs down hospital halls. His hairline is receding and his body shows the signs of long working hours and too many candy bars. Yet, he can still give me a certain look across the restaurant table that makes me want to ask for the check and head home.
When my friend asked me, what will make this love last?, I ran through all the obvious reasons - shared interests, unselfishness, physical attraction, and communication. Yet, there's more.
We still have fun, spontaneous good times. Yesterday, after slipping the rubber band off the rolled up newspaper, Scott flipped it playfully at me - this led to an all-out war. Last Saturday at the grocery, we split the list and raced each other to see who could make it to the checkout first. Even washing dishes can be a blast. We enjoy simply being together.
And there are surprises. One time I came home to find a note on the front door that led me to another note, then another, until I reached the walk-in closet. I opened the door to find Scott holding a pot of gold [my cooking kettle] and the treasure of a gift package. Sometimes I leave him notes on the mirror and little presents under his pillow.
There is still understanding. I understand that he must play basketball with the guys. And he understands why, once a year, I must get away from the house, the kids --- and even him --- to meet my sisters for a few days of nonstop talking and laughing.
There is forgiveness. When I'm embarrassingly loud and crazy at parties, Scott forgives me. When he confessed losing some of our savings in the stock market, I gave him a hug and said, "It's okay. It's only money."
There is sensitivity. Last week he walked through the door with that look that tells me it's been a tough day. After he spent some time with the kids, I asked him what happened. He told me about a 60-year old woman who'd had a stroke. He wept as he recalled the woman's husband standing beside her bed, caressing her hand. How was he going to tell this husband of 40 years that his wife would probably never recover? I shed a few tears myself. Because of the medical crisis, because there were still people who have been married 40 years, because my husband is still moved and concerned after years of hospital rooms and dying patients.
Finally, there is knowing. I know Scott will throw his laundry just shy of the hamper every night, he'll be late to most appointments, and eat the last chocolate in the box. He knows I sleep with a pillow over my head, that I'll lock us out of the house at a regular basis, and I will also eat the last chocolate.
I guess our love lasts because it is comfortable. No, the sky is not bluer - it's just a familiar hue. We don't feel particularly young - we've experienced too much that has contributed to our growth and wisdom, taking its toll on our bodies and created our memories.
I hope we've got what it takes to make our love last. As a bride, I had Scott's wedding band engraved with Robert Browning's line, grow old along with me.
There are some people who meet that somebody that they can never stop loving no matter how hard they try. I wouldn't expect you to understand that, or even believe it, but trust me, there are some love that don't go away. And maybe that makes them crazy, but we should all be lucky to end up with that somebody who has a little of that insanity, somebody who never lets go, somebody who cherishes you forever.
XOXOXOXOXOXO
by anonymousLabels: articles
a.o.u.i.e. scribbled this @
9:52 AM
Friday, April 22, 2005
My Senior Will
-
an idea taken from Sweet Valley's farewell edition
For him [who after more than two years still holds my heart in the palm of his hand]...I leave - baby Joseph, Oreos after Biochem exams, Bangkok pills, lunch and dinner outs, long letters and my green notebook, conversations and tambay after office hours, a deck of cards and countless bridge games [our 5 spades bid and win, the queen of diamonds, and the seven questions I think I still owe him], a UAAP Championship game ticket and a stroll around campus, a laughing trip movie gimmick and the Red Dragon movie we never got to watch, road trips and rides home, that one September 1 afternoon, warm hugs and chocolate kisses, the Red Ribbon parking lot and SEC C Lobby where things started, and everything else between what was and what could have been...
XOXOXOXOXOXO
i wait for the day i can say this with a real and definite goodbye...Labels: scribblings from me, snapshots
a.o.u.i.e. scribbled this @
4:10 PM
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Relapse
Seeing you again has triggered feelings and memories I've long since tried to forget.
My day started out the way it usually does, with an amount of work that leaves little time for dwelling on things I cannot do anything about. Then out of the blue, after months of silence, you texted:
Dinner and mvie sa megamol.
Ktakts sa labas ng pwerbuks ng
630 mamya. Pls reply
I was delirious. It didn't matter that there would be other people with us, nothing could contain the excitement I felt. And even if it meant leaving way earlier than usual, so be it. I was ready to ditch the world - my shiftmates and my remaining two hours of work, and my teammates whom I was supposed to watch a movie with that night. I was usually the ever-responsible one, but at that moment, all sanity flew out the window. We were going to see each other and that was all I cared about.
It really was an ordinary night. After all, there wasn't a part of it we hadn't done before. But it was special just the same - maybe because I haven't seen you in months, maybe more so because I never know for sure when I'm going to see you again.
Even now, you elicit the same reaction, the same feeling, as if it were two years ago and we were back in college. It's the same giddy feeling, the same warmth and light-headedness, the same stupid grin and easy laughter. To say I enjoyed myself would be an understatement. I loved everything about that night - the dinner, the movie, the ride home, the talking about things that happened in college.
A part of me then was transported back in time. Sitting beside you in the dark theater and later on in the car, talking and laughing over nonsensical things, felt so darn natural - almost as if nothing has changed. I say almost because I could see subtle changes, like your eyeglasses. You didn't have them before. It makes you look more serious, more like the doctor you're studying to become. Looking at you wearing those glasses made me realize how much time has passed since that moment we shared and how much things have actually changed - in you, in me, in what used to be us.
I went to bed smiling to myself, still grinning about the night out I had with you. But I woke up hating myself. Hating the fact that no matter how hard I try to fight it, I still love you. I may slowly be fulfilling my dreams and making something out of my life, but I cannot deny that I'm still just here waiting for you to suddenly realize you love me. Once I said that I'm tired of fighting for something that wasn't mutual and that I'm tired of valuing things I shouldn't have valued in the first place. Those were just words though, because deep inside, whether I admit it or not, you're the one I want. And regardless of how many times people around me say get over it, I know I cannot bring myself to settle for something or someone I know I wouldn't be happy with.
So much for wanting to move on...
You know, I dread the day that I will hear people talk about you and a new love. But there's not much I can do to prevent that. You're entitled to your life and to your own happiness. It was just my choice alone that kept me here all these years.
Thank you for your friendship, for your time, and for the chance to be with you every now and then. Thank you too for the memories and the past two years that showed me a strength I never knew I had. I love you with all my heart and no matter what I said in the past, I never stopped loving you.
The world thinks I'm okay, and that's what I want them to see but the years since graduation has been a painful journey. I may never get to fully understand everything that happened between us and I don't know when, or if I'll ever accept the reality that no matter how great a person I am, you just don't love me.
At least not in the way I want you to...
XOXOXOXOXOXOLabels: scribblings from me
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
The Power of Holding Hands
I was sitting on a beach one summer day, watching two children, a boy and a girl, playing in the sand. They were hard at work building an elaborate sandcastle by the water's edge, with gates and towers and moats and internal passages. Just when they had nearly finished their project, a big wave came along and knocked it down, reducing it to a heap of wet sand. I expected the children to burst into tears, devastated by what had happened to all their hard work. But they surprised me. Instead, they ran up the shore away from the water, laughing and holding hands, and sat down to build another castle.
I realized that they had taught me an important lesson. All the things in our lives, all the complicated structures we spent so much time and energy creating, are built on sand. Only our relationships with other people endure. Sooner or later, the wave will come along and knock down what we have worked so hard to build up. When that happens, only the person who has somebody's hand to hold will be able to smile.XOXOXOXOXOXO
by anonymous
for him whose hand i used to hold...Labels: articles, snapshots
a.o.u.i.e. scribbled this @
4:56 PM
Monday, April 11, 2005
A Meantime Guy
He's the one you call when you're bored because he makes you laugh. He's the one you talk to when you're feeling down because he's willing to lend an ear and be a friend. He's not the one you call when you need a date to your company's Christmas party, or to go dancing with on a Saturday night. He's the one you spend time with between boyfriends, before you find The One. You know, the one who you keep around in the meantime.
He's not one of the girls, but you don't look at him as a, real man, either. He's not bad enough, moody enough, or sexy enough to be seen in that light. He's too laid-back, too easily amused by the same things your female buddies are amused by. He's too understanding, too comfortable - he doesn't make you feel nervous or excited the way a real man does. But he's cool, and nice, and funny, and attractive enough that when you're lonely or horny and need intimate male companionship, he'll do just fine. You don't have to wine and dine him because he knows the real you already, and you don't have any facades to keep up, no pretenses to preserve. You're not trying to get anything of substance out of him. He's not easy, but you know that he cares about you and is attracted to you, and that he'll give you the intimacy you need. And you know you don't have to explain yourself or the situation, that he'll be able to cope with the fact that this isn't the beginning of a relationship or that there's any possibility that you have any real romantic feelings for him. It won't bother him that you'll get up in the morning, put on your pants, say goodbye, and go on a date with the man you've been mooning over for weeks who finally agreed to go out with you. He'll settle for a goodbye hug and a promise to call him and tell him how the date went. He's just so cool...why can't all men be like that?!
But deep down, if you really think about it (which you probably don't because to you, the situation between the two of you isn't important enough to merit any real thought), you know that it's not really fair. You know that although he would never say it, it hurts him to know that despite all his good points and all the fun you two have, you don't think he's good enough to spend any real time with. Sure, it's mostly his fault, because he doesn't have to give in to your needs - he could play the hard-to-get a**hole like the rest of them do, if he really wanted to. But you and he both know that he probably couldn't pull it off. Maybe he's too short, or a little overweight, or has a big birthmark on his forehead, or works at Taco Bell. Whatever the reason, somehow life has given him a lot of really great qualities but has left out the ones that women want (or think they want) in a man. So he forever remains the funny friend, the steadfast companion, the secret lover, and you go on searching for the man of your dreams who will somehow be everything you ever wanted in a man.
You'll joke to him that he should be the best man at your wedding, and he'll laugh and make a joke about a smelly rental tux.
He doesn't captivate you with his looks or open doors with his smile. Mainly he blends in with the crowd. He's safe. He doesn't want to be the center of attention and turn the heads of everyone in the room. But he wants to turn someone's head. He wants to be special to someone, too. We all do.
He has feelings. He has a heart. In fact, he probably has a bigger and better heart than any man you've ever known because he's had a front-row seat to The Mess That Is Your Life, and he likes you anyway. He obviously sees something worthwhile and redeeming in you because although you've given him nothing, absolutely no reason to still be around, he is.
Anyway, yeah. I'm a meantime guy. Been one more times than I care to admit. I don't know the reason, really, and at this point I don't even care. I just want to let every girl know who's ever had the good fortune of having a meantime guy, that we may be a lot of fun, but we cry, too. A lot. And someday we won't be around.
XOXOXOXOXOXO
by anonymous
for him who, once upon a time, made me his meantime girl...Labels: articles
a.o.u.i.e. scribbled this @
1:11 PM
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Letting Go
My old Humanities II professor used to tell us that wallets are a lot like girls, "Dapat mong ingatan, kasi kung hindi mo iningatan, baka may mangyari." I know what he means. I just lost a wallet, and I just lost a girl. You know, it's the exact same thing.
One day, you just realize it's gone. You try to look for it everywhere, even going back to the places where you could have lost it. You think, and you think hard, only to come upon the grim realization: it's really gone.
Of course, you hold on to some hope. After all, there have been some very, very lucky people who get it back. Perhaps you could become one of those blessed people. You sit home and you hope that someone would call, and that you would get it back. But then, some time passes, and you realize that it's still gone, and you realize that it's time to let go.
The first few days, you turn to your friends for support. Some tell you you'll be okay, some tell you that it was your fault and that you should have been more careful, and some tell you about their own experiences. They give you all sorts of advice, none you haven't heard before.
You then go out to find a new wallet, only to realize that you don't really want a new one. You want the old one that you lost. NO, you don't want all these better-looking wallets, you want yours, because of how comfortable it is, because of all the cards and pictures and other stuff in it.
You go out and carry on without a wallet, keeping your money in your pocket instead. You throw away stuff that you would have held on to if you had your old wallet.
And then, finally, you find a new wallet you like and settle in.
You then start filling your new wallet, little by little. It still doesn't feel as comfortable as the old one, but it's getting there. Then you start putting in cards and pictures and other important stuff in the wallet. Soon enough, there's as much stuff in your new wallet as the old one. And then, after some time, you feel as comfortable with your new wallet. And then you realize that you've almost forgotten you ever had your old wallet. Sure, you still remember most of the stuff you lost in that wallet. But then again, you don't remember the feeling of hurt that you felt when you lost it.
That's because the wallet you lost is no longer your wallet. You're no longer holding on. This new wallet you're holding, it has all the important cards and pictures and stud you need. This is your wallet. And this time, you tell yourself, you're never losing this one.
XOXOXOXOXOXO
by anonymousLabels: articles, snapshots
Friday, April 08, 2005
Sinenomine
a speck of dust.
floating around.
fearless. fanciful.
settling on a rock.
camouflaging.
failing. fleeing.
forgotten.
XOXOXOXOXOXO
January 2000Labels: poems, scribblings from me
a.o.u.i.e. scribbled this @
1:19 PM
Thursday, April 07, 2005
A frustratingly silent phone
a frustratingly silent phone
...no call...no text...no anything...*sigh*
XOXOXOXOXOXOLabels: random ramblings, snapshots
a.o.u.i.e. scribbled this @
5:24 PM
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Sa Paglalaro ng Bridge
Lubos akong natutuwa
sa bawat pagbalasa mo
ng iyong lumang baraha.
Bridge kamo tayo.
Tayo ang magkatapat,
ang magkapareha,
sabi mo
sagot mo ko.
Okay.
Nagsimula ang pag-bid
nagyayabangan,
nagtatawanan,
nagtititigan,
at tila nagbabasahan ng isip.
Pilit kong hinuhulaan
kung anong nasasaloob mo,
kung anong balak mo...
ganoon ka rin kaya sa kin?
Kung minsan nagtutugma,
kung minsan hindi.
Umaasa akong
maiisip mo
ang pagtatayang
ginagawa ko...
gusto ko rin namang manalo.
Sumang-ayon ka sa bid ko.
Three hearts.
Bigla akong natakot,
nag-alinlangan,
di-nakapagsalita...
tiningnan mo ko
at tinanong,
"Bakit?"
sabi ko lang,
"Wala!"
nginitian mo ko sabay sabi -
"Trust me..."
Okay ulit.
Nagpatuloy tayo...
ginawa ko ang lahat -
nagbaba ng
sarili
kong mga baraha.
Nananalo ako, nananalo ka,
kahit minsan may mali.
Masaya naman tayo
ngumingisi,
nangungusap,
sinusubukang mandaya.
Lahat ito ginagawa ko
sa paglalaro ko
kasama mo.
Manalo lang sana tayo.
Malapit na,
nararamdaman ko,
panalo na tayo...
sa bawat ikot,
sa bawat pagtataya.
All to win.
Ibigay mo lang
ang alas na puso mo...
sagot ko na yong iba.
Naniwala ako sa yo,
sa atin -
subalit
mali pala,
nasa kalaban...
nagpanggap ka lamang
na nasa iyo,
na ibibigay mo.
Natalo tayo.
At natalo ako
sa sinabi mong...
"Okay lang -
it's only a game!"XOXOXOXOXOXO
adapted from a poem originally written by Phillip Medina
March 2004
for him who used to be my Bridge partner...Labels: poems, scribblings from me
a.o.u.i.e. scribbled this @
7:29 AM
Sunday, April 03, 2005
I Refuse To
I refuse to wait for you any longer. There was a time in my life when I would have saved myself for you alone. In my heart no one else would do. I belonged to no one else but you. That isn't me anymore. My heart finally caught up with my brain and I saw that all of it was just nothing but fantasies. Dreams that only I wanted. There was no hope left for us. As each day passed, it became clearer to me that it was never meant to be. We were never meant to be.
I refuse to live in the past. What we shared lives in the past, it doesn't control me any longer. Don't get me wrong, I will forever treasure it but I won't let it hold me back. I won't let it ruin who I was and who I am now.
I refuse to fight anymore. For several months now, I've been fighting. I've been fighting for our friendship and for us. However, no matter what I do, I seem to be losing. Whenever I feel as if I'm going to buckle down because of the pressure, the thought that somehow maybe you are fighting for us too kept me going. But months have passed, I haven't heard from you. I finally realized that I was the only one fighting for us. I was doing everything I possibly can for someone who was and never will be mine.
I refuse to believe that you didn't love me. Somehow, someway, I know that I have a place in your heart. You may not have been able to love me the way I wanted you to love me but I know that even for just a second, you really did love me.
I refuse to lose hope. It may not be you. It may take me forever to find him, but I will. Tears have been streaming down my cheeks for too long but not anymore. I have learned so many things from all this. Things that I felt should have been taught to me some other less painful way but somehow I don't regret it. It made me stronger. It made me look inside myself and see who I really am and not who I thought I was. Hope kept me going. The hope for better things to come, the same hope that one day I will finally be over you.
XOXOXOXOXOXO
by pInKgUrL [from peyups]Labels: articles
a.o.u.i.e. scribbled this @
6:00 PM
I hate goodbyes...
- the good old building that sheltered us all...
- gave us comfort, and nurtured our young and fragile minds and hearts...
back when we were in the process of knowing ourselves...
back when we had nothing but dreams...
back when we treasured nothing but real friendships,
she was the only silent witness...
Colayco Hall takes her final bow...XOXOXOXOXOXO
by anonymous
from the Colayco Reunion teaser... Labels: poems, snapshots
a.o.u.i.e. scribbled this @
4:12 PM
Feeling optimistic...
Sometimes loving could be painful but it's amazing to know that no matter how hard it is, loving someone is still the simplest reason why you find yourself smiling...
XOXOXOXOXOXO
*sigh*Labels: random ramblings
a.o.u.i.e. scribbled this @
4:03 PM
One last trip...one last summer...
caylabne bay resort, cavite
XOXOXOXOXOXO
a final farewell to college - to those four years of a roller coaster ride... Labels: random ramblings, snapshots
My Moving On Letter
This is my way of moving on, of saying goodbye to a love that was never meant to be and was never mine to begin with.
You know, I've never really understood what happened between us...how and why we came to this - not seeing each other for months at a time, barely talking, barely even on speaking terms. But then again, was there ever an us to begin with? We were just friends who kidded about having a relationship. It made us laugh to see others' reactions every time we'd tell them we've gotten together and that we call each other Hugs and Kisses. You always referred to me as "girlfriend ko" but we both know there's really nothing to it, or at least that was what we owed up to the rest of the world. Even now it would make me smile to think how fast and how far things have gone from there.
We started spending a lot of time together, talking, eating, and playing bridge...we would always choose to closely sit next to each other with your arm around my shoulders and my hand on your lap...we would hold hands and be very affectionate with each other...we even had private jokes that we didn't want to explain or share with anyone else...and every moment we spent together was fun even if we weren't doing anything at all. Friends say that there's this tenderness with which we look at each other, a twinkle in our eyes and a soft smile on our lips that held so much promise...but what we had was never formalized, no words were spoken, nothing clarified nor explicitly admitted. We were playing mind games practically all the way.
I never knew if you loved me back, I never asked. At first it was because I truly believed there wasn't anything out of the ordinary that needed questioning, and when it finally dawned on me, it was too late. You seemed to have changed your mind already. From this point onwards, things went from happy, even blissful, to downright ugly. Suddenly it was as if we didn't know each other. You stayed as far away from me as possible. This time I wanted to talk, clear things up once and for all, but you didn't want to. And no matter what I say, everything falls on deaf ears. Eventually, I thought it was better to keep my silence, to just give you the space you're asking for.
But though I may not have said anything...I loved you with all my heart, and love you still, but I'm tired - I'm tired of fighting for a love that has lived its moment...of living on memories that are special only to me...
Thank you for everything...for taking away my insecurities; for showing me that people do love me for who I am; for making me understand that people I love will hurt me but it doesn't necessarily mean they love me any less, and that when they do hurt me, it is possible to forgive, forget and move on with life; for making me realize it is possible to trust again after getting hurt. Thank you too for giving me the most painful lesson in my life thus far...that the moment you love someone you have given him the capacity to hurt you, that how much you hurt is equal to how much you have loved, that getting hurt is proportionate to having too many expectations. Thank you for accepting me and allowing me enough room to grow at the same time...for inspiring me and making me want to become a better person. Thank you for being there when I needed you - for the silly and the serious moments; for making me laugh, smile and cry all at the same time; for holding my hand when I'm nervous or scared; for giving me a hug and wiping away my tears when I'm sad or confused; for never failing to make me feel better no matter how down or how depressed I've become; for unselfishly sharing my joys and my happiness. Most of all, thank you for making me feel special, for making me feel loved, even if it was so ambiguous and so fleeting I was hardly conscious about it.
I'm sorry things had to come to this - I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you after all, and I wasn't supposed to expect anything to come out of our playing pretend either. But even if everything got so painful, I'm still glad to have known you, to have had you in my life even for just a short while. I've heard people say that while some good things never last others don't even start - I guess that fits us exactly...we could have been good together...good for each other, but then since we never really gave ourselves a chance, things had ended before they even began.
I'm letting you go, I'm letting us go. I've finally accepted that this is the way things would have to be, that i should allow us both to be free enough to seek whatever it is that will truly make us happy. Even if it isn't with each other.
I must admit you probably won't be too far away from my thoughts, and that thinking of you will still bring that tinge of sadness and regret. But I'm okay. I will be okay. Loving again may take awhile though. For now, I'd concentrate on healing myself, on making myself complete on my own - so that when the right one finally comes, I'll be able to give myself to him as I would have wanted to give myself to you.
Wherever life may lead us from here...good luck!
XOXOXOXOXOXO
July 2004Labels: scribblings from me
