untitled. unlabeled.

I burned the bridge into ashes and stopped looking your way.
Bored a hole on my being and successfully flushed out your name.
Crushed the songs you usually sing and and threw all the lyrics away.
Painted my view with bright happy colors and used gray to blur your face.
Inhaled the fragrance of a fresh start and made sure that it’s your smell that I exhaled.
Abandoned the garden of our memories and used my pain to build a gate.
Filled the sky above it with clouds of pent-up emotions and put some tears so it would rain.
Transformed my regrets into thunder and made lightning out of my despair.
Now that I successfully transformed all my hurt, there’s only one thing left to make.
I shall take one last look of this painful masterpiece and then finally walkaway.

Of honesty and broken pieces

Tonight, with all the broken pieces of honesty that I have patiently kept just for this moment, I will to tell you that I am broken. I am broken inside and out, in so many pieces, in so many levels, and in so many ways. I am beyond repair. Tonight, I will tell you this as if it's something that you don't already know; as if it's something that doesn't have anything to do with you; as if it's something that you didn't do. I just really want to tell you.

I would give up everything I have just to get even just a tad bit of strength to put my tiny pieces back together. I would do it even if it meant giving up all my broken pieces since right now, it's literally all that I have. The sad truth though is that even if I was strong enough, I wouldn't know how to do it. I wouldn't know what needs to be done. I'm not even sure if I will want to do it. I've been broken for so long that I already forgot what it feels like to be whole. It's like the idea of it has become more and more unfamiliar with every time that I felt like I wasn't worth it at all.

There were some odd days though when I would feel like I finally figured this out only to realize in the end that I wasn't even half right. Crazy ideas would surface once in awhile perhaps out of my sheer stupidity and desperation. And every time it will happen, I would end up being thankful that I wasn't strong enough to do anything. Otherwise, I would have just caused more pain and more trouble.

So tonight, I decide to give up and to give in. I am already tired in my so-called quest to healing. Hence tonight, I will remember everything and feel everything once again. Tonight I will no longer deny that I am stuck in what seems to be a never ending story of how loving has broken me. Of how it is still breaking me. Tonight, through these words of brokenness that I managed to piece together, l wish that you will finally realize that I have not stopped breaking. That as much as I would like for this to end, my broken pieces will not be broken enough. It will continue breaking into smaller pieces over and over again. This is perhaps the reality that I  must accept. So tonight, as I unwillingly give in to the bittersweet reality of how much I have loved you; of how much I still do, I shall embrace this because I have finally come to realize that this is my reality. So tonight, like all the other nights that have gone and the nights that are yet to come, I will love you with all my broken pieces. I will love you as if every broken piece is whole. I will keep on loving you and I will keep on breaking. I will love you until all my broken pieces break into something that can no longer be recognized.

Or maybe even after that.

Summer of '98

It was during the summer of '98 and I was twelve back then. I would always hangout inside an abandoned jeepney just a few blocks away from our old house with my superfriends - Pia, Love-Love, and Bebot. We would always do, talk and write down crazy stuff that I couldn't recall anymore. All I remember was that jeepney was a witness of lots of crazy and fun memories of that summer of '98. We were just young girls biking around the village every afternoon hoping to get a glimpse of our crushes. We watched all the basketball games during the summer league of '98 because that's where all the cute guys are. We, just like most girls our age, secretly giggled a lot about the cute boys in the village.

I was just twelve. He was sixteen. He was tall. He was lovely with his hair almost covering his eyes. He was the best basketball player during that summer league of '98. He was such an eye candy. Other girls would always sit beside their bench and would always come and talk to him after every game. Me? Well, I was there too. I was there at the other side of the court with my friends. We would always go there early so we can sit at the bench directly opposite theirs. We never missed a game. I was always there with my silent cheers securely hidden in the sound of every applause I made everytime he would do something cool. I was there... just there watching him in awe from afar. He was a beauty in motion. It was crazy how I always manage to watch him in slow motion despite of how fast he runs from one side to the other. I was a twelve year-old fan girl. I was just twelve when I had my biggest crush. He was sixteen and he was my biggest crush. He was my eye candy. 

It was during the summer league of '98 when I first saw him. I was just twelve back then. It was that same summer when it happened. I was walking my way out of the court with my friends like we normally do after all the games when I heard an unfamiliar voice shouting my name. I saw this kid from another block running towards our direction. He was almost out of breath. What could he possibly need so urgently from me that he had to run as fast as he did? It took him a minute or so to catch his breath and finally told me what he needed. "May gustong kumausap sayo. Hintayin natin," were his exact words. I remember being oblivious. Well, what can you expect? I was just twelve.

It was during that summer of '98. I was just twelve. It was the first time I felt butterflies stampeding inside my "what-used-to-be-flat" stomach as if forcing their way out of my body. Before I could even ask who it was who wanted to talk to me, I saw him walking towards our direction. Could it be? Was it him? I felt a totally different and totally strong sense of panic. It would be the first time that I was actually presented an opportunity to see him upclose. However, at the time, I didn't think I can handle it. What do you expect? I was just twelve. So I just looked down on my bike acting like I was checking on something. I was planning to continue doing so until after he pass by. I felt my heart beat intensely that I could almost hear it. And as he gets nearer, my panic grew stronger. I tried to calm myself by reciting a mantra I created on the spot - "Mabilis lang yan. Lalagpas din agad." 

I was twelve. It was during that summer of '98 when I saw him upclose for the first time. Apparently, he was the one that the kid from another block was talking about. He was sixteen when he said he wanted to talk to me. I was twelve and he was sixteen when we were formally introduced to each other. It was during that summer of '98 when he asked for my landline number. I was twelve when I thought that he doesn't even know that I exist. I was twelve and he was sixteen when he first saw me. I was twelve when he would secretly look at me while I was not looking. I was twelve and he was sixteen when he saw me at the bench opposite theirs. He was sixteen when he watched me laugh and giggle with my friends from afar for the very first time. It was during that summer of '98 when he kept wondering how my laugh sounds. I was twelve and he was sixteen when he realized he wanted to know everything he can possibly know about me. I was twelve and he was sixteen when he told me all of these. 

I was twelve and he was sixteen and it was during that summer of '98 when I had my first and last summer fling. I was twelve and he was sixteen and it was a beautiful and memorable summer of '98.