Southern Farewell

It was only a year ago when I met Joni. I was 19 then. I have just been staying in Manila for two months when I met him online. When we finally met, it wasn’t really love at first sight but since I found him strange and not to mention overly attractive, I said yes when he asked me to be his girlfriend. I only realized that I was indeed in love with him three months after.

Joni didn’t treat me like a princess. In fact he treated me like I was just an inch above being his friend. And no, I wasn’t used to that. With my past relationships, I have always been treated like a queen. I’d get flowers every month, tons of presents and not to mention surprises enough to sweep any girl off to cloud nine; while his idea of a sweet valentine date was to take me on a bus trip to Quezon City to go to UP and eat isaw. So much for the candle lit dinner that I half-expected.

Joni just wasn’t the romantic–type. But then months after, I got used to his weird and practical ways of showing his love to me and that’s when I fell in love with him. I’d say, we shared a lot of adventures together like going out-of-town or jumping from one train to another just looking for that Japanese siomai we’re both so craving for. He was sweet and malambing to me. He would always look out for my health and would take care of me every time I get sick. Sometimes, he’d even sing me songs just so I could go to sleep. Joni taught me that love is beyond chocolates and flowers; he taught me how to love unconditionally.

Just when I thought that nothing could go wrong between us, I was confounded with the thought of going back to Cebu. Yes, I was enjoying being in love in Manila but then my mom saw me losing myself along the process. I got too crazily involved. There were times when I’d just sit and wait around Joni’s office for seven hours until he’s off so I could be with him again. I got to clingy. And my life stopped its spinning. School was fun but I wasn’t active. I submitted myself to everything that he wanted but then when I started getting anxiety attacks and depression hit me big time I knew then that something was awfully wrong. I couldn’t sleep at night. I’d burst into tears for no reason and I keep spending money over things that I don’t really need. I found shopping to be the cure to keep me sane. Id blow up on small matters and I was always starting fights. It was then I decided to go back to Cebu. Since then, life between us two was never the same again.

The painful reality of being so far way from Manila crushed me. I tried long-distance relationship twice and none of them worked. I was afraid of losing the relationship I worked so hard to preserve. The first month was a wreck. We’d fight everyday over small things and he had a problem with me and my extra-curricular activities. I wasn’t allowed to go out with friends. He wanted me home early everyday yet he would start on fights when he too got stressed from work. Money was a crucial matter. Since flying to Cebu every month is expensive we’d often fight about the expenses involved during his stay. It seems to me that we were going downhill but then again there was love. We tried to talk out solutions to solve the conflicts involved. I learned how to be less demanding of time and attention. I became even more patient and so did he. We found a middle ground and we set deals to avoid long-time wars. We promised to stay true to each other no matter what. Not long after, everything became less complicated and I started to breathe in again hope that we can get through this after all.

It’s been more than four months since I got here in Cebu. And Joni and I had just celebrated our first year of being together last December. And no, we did not spend it together. Truth is we only get to see each other every two months; if we’re lucky enough to have saved enough for a getaway. But of course there’s school and work. The hardest part wasn’t really the separation – it was the realization the Joni and I could no longer be actively present when one is in the dire need of comfort and encouragement. It has been so hard waking up each day and getting hit with that realization that I still have to spend two years before actually going back there to Manila. I’m afraid that I can never overcome the pain of it every day. I only wish that I could at least learn to get used to the situation and the solidity of it all.

These days, I smile and laugh with my friends trying very hard to get my life on track. But there were times when I would just cry while in the middle of doing something, feeling that intense longing to see him. Joni just wasn’t my boyfriend; he was my best friend too. My decision to come back here in Cebu caused major turns in the manner I treat life and relationships in general. I learned that being in love doesn’t really mean submitting your whole world; in fact it’s very important for each couple to give enough space for each other to grow and to sustain a healthy relationship. It is also very important to love oneself first before loving someone else. But of course, how can I love if I don’t even love myself? As the months passed I have become stronger, I discovered courage I never thought I had. I learned to value the people I love, and to never let a day pass without letting them know it. I felt like the decision was all worth it. Now, I am happy. I’m in love and I’m contented. My fairytale story with Joni has just begun, we may be far from each other but I know soon we’ll be together again. In the mean time, I guess I’ll just have to content myself with phone calls and text messages till we meet again. After all, as the famous novel writer Nicholas sparks once wrote, ‘the reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have and will be. Maybe we’ve lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we’ve found each other. And maybe each time, we’ve been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.’

something random.

The future looks like a black canvas waiting for me to be painted on; yet to be filled with magnificent colors from my palette of emotions. I am currently in a cynical state of considering that amateurish idea of without end. So many eras have passed; some old narratives seem to have amused the human cranium that such blissful endings do exist. In this pitiless world of impostors how can it possibly subsist? I feel sad to suppose that all elated feeling of pleasure will one way or another come to a tragic end. It proffers absolutely no console to hear foolish expressions of possibilities. In fact, this mere thought of indisputable reservation scares me. There are just some chronicles that I wish would never end. Schmaltzy stories I’d still want to feel thrilled after years of hearing them repetitively. Better yet, permanent love from the one I feel eternally bound to. And yes the future looks awful. Who will fly with me towards the sky? Paint with me this canvas of the heavens in timeless glee.

WHORE.

Just when I thought I’ve created my boulder of idyllic potency; the angry gods propelled lightning to smash every bit of my precious stamina. The nub within my quintessence has reached the climax of sensational damage; that every inch of my mortality had been murdered in numerous macabre ways. I have been identified as a big shot of succulent character; celebrity of adulterous women; damsels advertising corporal lust in the streets. I am a portrayal of the devil on lease; the angel tied with the ropes of deceit. Everything that surrounds me is a replica of that woman who stares back at me in the mirror. She hates me as much as I hate her. She is a product of much liberty; I am product of futile love. How sad they sing the song to the gods to have mercy on stupid Pandora. The creation of hope is a lie. Nor love. Women like me, to the society; we are incapable of sensitivity. We know nothing but to give temporary panorama’s of a blissful infinity. Often times, I failed to abide the law of wintry. So many times I’ve gasped the suffocating air of a fanatical genuine; that thing they call love. But here I am, on the verge of sacrificing yet my whole makeup to a fresh face of naïve serenity; to one boy I met along the filthy streets. Is it wrong to ask for love; to beg for it; to long for it like a hungry child? This is imprudence! This is sordid! yet I am famished. I placed the cards on the table. Some aged belief to predict an upcoming misery. I hummed a tune of some old, old love song. The candle flickered on one corner. The blade went through and through. Macrobiotic obsession of despair inflicted on the membrane of my shell. I heard your voice in a sing song. I mutely cried. You have failed the sagacity of my now failing system. The scheme you have shrewdly planned; brought my ruin. Who are you to judge me of who I am; you don’t know anything. Because lovers are like that, momentary pleasure that’s what you get and that’s what WE offer.

VERTIGO

NIGHTMARE

Im pouring out to the heavens tasteful tears of lost serenity.
The night appears more like stranger than a known friend.
Shades of dull grey flitted around my rainbow-colored dreams.
Ogres came to chase my pixies away. sudden darkness clouded my entire nature.
And I feEL like Im running on an endless circle of fright.
Spell-bounded by the wicked witch of loath and envy.

The quivering consciousness of seeing everything in a mess is maddening.
Her burlesque creeping my senses into a submission of defeat.
I saw thorns of roses binding you completely to her power.
And my shouts fell on an echoing silence as her facade turned into a face of my own.
The mirror of devotion broken into pieces. I stared at the shattered glass.
And I saw everything from a bottomless pit of hopelessness.

Wilted flowers on the ground. Her bitter perfume lingered on my senses.
The beauty of perfection ruined. A love as sweet as honey; now a mere recollection of what used to be.
And Im lying alone with my head on the pillow, my face streamed with sorrow.
Thinking of you. Thinking of us. Of what tomorrow brings.
With these demons lurking under my bed every time my psyche seeks tranquility.
And I wake; Panting, crying, screaming in recurrence.

To leave you alone

I feel like I am soaking in this fallacy of silly devotion;a panorama of infinite love. As I write this figures down, I feel the need to release myself from this monotony of dying emotions. I looked at you today and I felt the cold rush of blood on my cheek. I felt your lips dry from love. Your vista that of a wilting plant. My psyche whispered to you the lonely cries of a prisoner in plea. You heed not her warning. I blew upon your face the serenity of my psyche as you sleep soundly for the night. Broken vows. Unsettled debts. Disturbed stars. And yes the smoke of malfunction came unto me, and has eaten my flesh raw. Oh yes. I do love you. But..now. I am in search of this waning diamond. I need to find my lost character. Look at me tonight. Look at me today. See me past the facade of euphoria. See me past my nostalgia. Now that rain has come, dark clouds covered the beauty of my Selene; And I do not know whom to turn to. Save me. I beg you. Shelter me from the drenching acids of perplexity and horror. Restore the pinkness of my parched lips. Breathe new life to my senses. I cling on to you my stranger. Cure me from this curse. I am torn in between two. I have tasted the poison. Come, celebrate with me. Come, fill me with your disgust. Kill me with no emotion. Tell me how bad you want me to suffer. Tell me how long I have to feel this addiction. Pardon my ignorance. Pardon my mistakes. Suicidal wish. Read me.

Scrutiny of Bliss

I went to the shoreline to watch the blue bearing crash into the sand.
The blustery weather skipping around me like a kid wanting to play.
Have you ever felt so unruffled amidst the deterioration of your nature?
So overwhelm by this emotion called love that you feel like your masking in bitter ecstasy.

I commit to memory this certain conversation we had back then.
About my coldness towards your stance of dedication to me.
And I cant help but question my own allegiance on this affiliation of constant bickering.
Really, I'd like to think of this as something typical but...

I dont have all the answers. And this sensation of despair and love is all I have.
This isnt even nostalgia. I am in a sense happy of something indefinite.
I feel it in my proclivity everyday. Like butterflies all around me. Pastel colors waiting to explode.
Or maybe this is just chimera to push myself to inscribe something forlorn when in detail Im really not.

I am happy. There's no rationale not to be. Life had been kind to me.
She gave me sweet breezes to get pleasure from. She sang to me tunes of optimism when I felt wretched.
I danced ballet with love. She took me in slow circles. She lifted me up to to the heavens. I was beseiged.
It's crazy, the sensation esctatic; I would give up everything before I'd separate myself from this euphoria.

Thank God for life and love. Thank God for bliss and despair.
I saw birds flying from across this fill of tears. I thought of you.
Then suddenly I felt your presence from behind me. I heard your voice in a sing-song.
Your propinquity took all the solitude away. Mutually we enjoyed the sensation of being parodixacally in love.

I've never been so grateful in my whole subsistence. Until now.