I've always wanted to do this.

Sit on the passenger side of the car, you behind the wheel, greens and blues whirring past as your foot hits the gas.

I look up at you and see something I've always wanted to see.

I didn't even know I was waiting for you - I was just sitting on the steps of my house, wondering why I was even there - until you came.

You took my hand and held the door for me, and then you said, "Where do you want to go?", and I said, "Nowhere in particular."

And so here we are, driving to nowhere in particular, letting the air be filled with comfortable silence, making conversation with the words we leave unsaid. Your hand reaches for mine, and I let you hold it for as long as you wish to, because there might not be another time.

After all, something as magical as this, if this surely is not a dream, then it is a fragile reality which we must thread on carefully, for the slightest shift can make it shatter.

Your face is calm. You are not smiling, but you are happy. I can tell by the twinkling of your eyes, there are words swirling in your mind, words you don't dare say because they might not make sense. Oh, but how they do.


I roll the window down, fill my lungs with the fresh, cool air. Closing my eyes, I squeeze your hand, and I know that you know what I yearn to say.

I've always wanted to do this.

I wish you wouldn't see me.

I wish you wouldn't talk to me.

I wish you wouldn't say you've been thinking about me on a certain summer day, when the air is warm and there are crisp green leaves on your lawn, just like that very first day I came over and sat beneath the oak tree with you.

I wish you wouldn't ask me how I am, not because I don't want you to, because we both know it's one of the things that make me happy, but because I could lie to you and say I'm fine, or I could tell you the truth and explain why I'm not, and either way, you wouldn't really care.

It may be the hardest thing, to believe that I'm still going on about you - about us, after all this time. The truth is, centuries could pass by and I probably still would be smitten, head over heels not over you. You have been to me what I never thought I would have in my entire life - hope. 

What hurts most is when I think about how you never really meant to hurt me. They'd say boys will be boys, and it's true, you can be a real jerk when you want to, but if I'm sure about only one thing in the world, it's that not once did you plan to break me the way you had; the way you still do.

You've been good. Too good, even, from the very beginning to the last and final goodbye. Remember how you told me you understood? I wish you hadn't. I wish you asked me why, at least once, so that I could tell you what was wrong. You thought you were giving me an easy way out, holding the door as I leave, believing so strongly that you weren't good enough for me. But you were. How I wish you knew you were. 

I wish I could say it's hard to remember how it was with us, but it was the best time of my life, and it haunts me day by day. You're happy, and I'm happy knowing this, but can you really blame me for wanting to know if any of that was real?

If you were the one stuck where I am right now, would you write your heart out to me?

There are things I wish I hadn't known or seen. I'm not afraid of pain; I'm afraid of it changing me into something I don't want to be.

I'm selfish. I am, cause after all these years, I don't want you to be happy with anyone else. I stay up at night wishing you'd miss me enough to seek me out again, like you always did before. I realize it's not happening, but I keep on waiting for things to take a turn for the better.

Right now, more than anything, I just wish I hadn't seen that picture. You stood beside her, smiling like you've never been happier, your arms wrapped around each other. It reminds me of those times I refused to take a picture with you, because I didn't want to have anything to hold on to in case I feel exactly the way I do right now. I'm regretting it more and more.

I don't suppose I want you back. I don't even like you anymore. Sometimes, we just hate seeing others pick up what we have thrown away. Sometimes, I hate that she has restored you back to the amazing person you once were, something I wasn't able to do. Sometimes, I wonder how much better my life would have been if I hadn't met you.

I'm busy with the tape and the glue.

My chest still constricts when I think of you.

Even now, after all this time, when everyone thinks I'm ok, I'm not even fine at all. And I can't find the words to tell anyone exactly how I feel.

It's like there's a hole in me. Not in my chest, but in me. And I've tried everything that might work but nothing is fit to fill it in. Sometimes, it's as if I'm gong crazy. I pull at my hair as if somehow, you'd be here to stop me.

Maybe it's just the weather. It's been really cold these past few days, and the skies would turn gray, but it never rains, which should be a good thing because the rain reminds me of you. Instead, I curl up  and make myself as small as I feel, and wish it would just pour. Because I want to remember. Because lately, you're starting to get blurry. My memories can't get your smile right anymore. Your laughter sounds wrong in my head. And the sound of your voice is not as clear as it used to. And I'm trying my hardest to hold on to these fading pieces of you, because they're all I have left.

Maybe it's the way they've all moved on, and I'm still stuck in bubbles of you. We'll never be whole again, this much I know. When you went, you took a bit of each of us with you, and there's no getting them back. But they've moved on. They talk about you as if you're still there with us, your eyes crinkling as you laugh. And that hurts me, because I'm not there yet, and I feel alone.

I'm trying to hold myself together, but bits of me are starting to fall out, and it's all because of you.

2K13!!!!

Hi. I haven't been here in a while. It's because I'm sooo busy, like seriously, I feel like I don't even have the right to breathe anymore. So here are a couple of things we have to accomplish these coming weeks:

1. CWTS Tree Planting Activity (January 19)
2. CWTS Livelihood Seminar (January 26)
3. Thesis Defense (January 22)
4. CWTS Feeding Program (February 2)
5. CWTS Feeding Program 2 (February 9)
6. 8th Annual Chefs on Parade (February 12-13)
7. PE Field Demo (February 14-15)
8. CWTS Kasalang Bayan (Mass Wedding Ceremony) (February 16)

That's only some of our responsibilities. We also still have our other subjects which are equally demanding in terms of time, effort and money.

I don't know how to be a good leader, this is a fact. I'm moody and temperamental and I don't like repeating things. I hate it when people refuse to do as I say, especially when I've begged them once. And in these activities, I'm given the responsibility to lead my classmates and make them follow me. The problem is, I don't know how.

It's so tiring, preparing for these things and having to keep up with my studies at the same time, but thankfully, I manage it all, somehow. I just hope I can keep it up. I know it's only going to be harder as time comes.

Well, there goes the first few weeks of my 2013. It's not much, but at least it isn't boring.

12/17/12

There are times when I hide behind a happy face because that's the easiest thing for me to do. After all, how do I explain how after all this time, not a day passes by that I don't think of you? Who will understand how much I still long for you?

The world is cold. Everything just feels so wrong without you. Your memories are anchors, weighing me down, keeping me stuck on the shore. I spend all my time reading all these poems, listening to all these songs, hoping that somehow, by some miracle, I will find the words to describe how I feel.

I miss you.

I miss you.

I miss you.

It doesn't matter how many times I repeat that. I'm not even sure you can still hear me. I don't know if you can feel gravity pulling you to me. What are you supposed to be now? A lingering echo of thoughts, of precious words left unsaid? A cruel tick of the clock, the sole measure of how much time has passed?

I don't know where to find you, and I don't know how. Is it even possible?

All I know now is this feeling. Heavy sighs and empty laughter. This is me now. This is what I've been since the day you walked out.

You're mad.

You're mad at the world because you can't have what you want. What you fail to realize is that the world doesn't owe you a single thing; it was here first.

You think to yourself, out of the billions of people on the planet, hundreds of thousands of them serial killers, or rapists, or robbers, or mad cannibals, the universe conspires to give you the shittiest days known to man. You don't even see how millions of these people, most of them children, are dying of starvation, or victims of abuse by their own parents, or spending Christmases and their birthdays on the streets.

You feel like it's the end of the world because your internet connection is weak, and your phone is running out of charge, and your parents flat out refuse to buy you the latest iPad model, and your teachers give assignments and quizzes all at once. Somewhere in the world, someone's biggest wish is to finish his or her studies. Someone struggles to pay his way through college, to be able to afford a sick parent's medication, selling whatever gadgets they have left for a little something to eat, to get them through the day.

You look in the mirror and you hate what you see. You're too fat. You're not pretty enough. Your hair never falls in place and you'd do anything to change what you are, when what you really should be changing is the way you look at things. Beauty, popularity, money. These things matter to you now, but in 5 or 10 years' time, what you'd be thinking about are the things you wish you'd said, the moments that slipped from your hands, and the people you wish you'd asked to stay.

You shy away from people and keep your feelings to yourself because you're a little bit different. You're a boy, and you like boys, or you're a girl, and you like girls. You're ashamed because you think there's something wrong with you, but what you really should be ashamed of is the fact that you're letting society dictate who you should or should not love. You'd either grow old alone or stuck in a relationship that doesn't work just because you conform to what the world says is right. What you fail to realize is that it's your life on the line.

You're mad at the world because you can't have what you want, but the truth is that you're mad at yourself because you want it, but you don't want it bad enough to even be willing fight for it. You're mad, because you want it handed to you on a silver platter. You want things to go your way. You want people to like you when you can't even like yourself. You complain about everything, but you're doing nothing to change them.

You, my friend, are mad.

Midnight thoughts.

Sit on my chaotic mind

Rearrange the pieces

Of a puzzle torn by your pointed claws

Of broken jars of dreams of us.

Walk through the alleys of my veins

Sift through the dusts in my blood

See if they still have your name

See if they still sing for you.

Stay on all corners of my heart

Feel me beat for you from dusk till dawn

Paint over the doodles on the walls

Light a fire over the mounds of pain.

Come home to the comfort of my arms

Tie yourself to my memories of you

Build your room into the core of my being

Screw a lid over this  hole in my existence.

Kept.

The universe is vast. I used to think it was limitless, infinite. So why, now, do I feel like I'm standing on its edge, going in circles because gravity keeps pulling me down?

I'm connected to you by a string. It is frayed. I need to know why we live like this. Why, after all we've been through, is it still so hard to just let every piece of truth fall from your lips? Lie on your back, take my hand. Tonight, we'll watch the stars fall from the sky.

I'm just a speck in your universe. It is forever changing, leaving little room for stability. I never thought I would be foolish enough to let your hand slip away from my hold. I should have kept my grip. "I'm sorry," I should have said, but I turned my back on you instead.

I'm never one to admit to my mistakes. I don't give up easily, either. But this space between us, it burns, and it expands, until an inch becomes a light year away. We're orbiting two different suns, and for a moment, we thought we could make them merge into one. But then, reality sneaks in, and we're rotating on the same axis, both too fast, neither willing to slow down to somehow soften the blow.

Next thing we know, we're crashing into each other, leaving chaos and a  path of endless destruction.

Come down with me,  lie on your back. We can walk away tomorrow. There'll be no looking back. But for tonight, we'll watch the ashes fall.

You've done nothing at all to make me love you less.

It's either desperation, or dedication, how after all this time, I'm still here, holding on. It's been quite a while, and I never planned on revisiting these sentiments I thought I'd boxed away forever.

Guess I was wrong. I guess I lied each time I told myself that I was over you, because right now, it doesn't feel like I ever will be.

But I will always be the other girl. The one waiting on the side lines to mend whatever is broken, even if the pieces wound me.

It's not your fault. You're just someone wonderful and extraordinarily amazing and I look at you and I would rather look at you than anything else in the world. It's unfair, cause you never even have to try. I keep falling all the time.