This Parity

Starting on a small business with my husband now seems more tricky.

Come the time there exists true goodbyes

Rumbling through this world of lies,

Yearning voice in the shout of silence

Invoking through the rain's existence.

Neither do the sea approve the presence

Growing in the shallow depth of nonsense

Speaking in the vastness of dominant prudence

Overhearing the sharp words whispered by innocence;

Lifting the pain enlightened by darkness,

Impeding the continuum of the joy of sadness,

Thoroughly remembering the forgotten gladness

Amidst the warmth of the breeze's coldness...

Rupturing the great memory of an unknown commandment

For the past week, I can literally feel my bad side coming out of me. As days pass, I’m getting worse and wilder.

See, it isn’t really in my normal nature to think bad about someone, or curse in my mind, or even think about literally hurting someone physically. But recently, all those stuff are becoming normal to me. And I swear I am really feeling the urge to pull someone’s hair while on the MRT. Or kick someone’s foot. Or raise a finger when I’m mad. Or b*tch on someone. Or blurt out sarcasm. Or curse someone in my mind. Or wish someone a very bad luck. Or just frantically scream.

I’m really afraid the evil woman in me is coming out coz I know it would be all too bad. That’s why I’ve been squeezing it in for years.

I remember back in college, walking with you right by my side was a bit awkward.

Although I’m merely 5’6”, I’m used to being ‘the taller girl’. Walking on pathwalks or corridors or the streets felt like a treat coz I’ll always, always be taller than at least one guy I’d be passing by. Then I can smirk or wink (kidding. I don’t wink.) at them as a silent way of saying, “Yo dude, you can’t hit on me coz I’m taller.”

And then I met you. No, I mean, then you came up to me to meet me. You were even walking backwards while I was walking on a rush to my college building. October something, Betaway. And like a splish-splash supported by some hangouts on the side, we got closer. Blah blah blah. And became friends. And eventually something more.

Since then, I felt like a little kid standing just up to your shoulders and nothing more. It felt like you were my kuya. Only, you’re younger by a year or two.

Three years and we’ve grown older. But walking right next to you still feels the same. And just this morning, I thought… maybe it’s time for me to consider buying black stilletos just as you would always say. And though I doubt this would make us work, maybe just once, I have to keep my overanalytical brain shut and trust your insistence.

25 songs had passed us by. I was busy watching people strut their stuff, acting like their own peacocks. You were busy watching me from behind and saving up all the guts to come up to me. I was unaware.

Scene shifts to me and there I was, wondering where you are. The last time I saw you was around 20 minutes ago. You were sitting alone outside and I was wondering what you were doing there when everyone was supposed to dance and get junked in that party.

Third to the last song started playing and I totally thought our dance together has lost its chance. Why did I think it was possible, anyway? Did I actually forget that just before we parted earlier in the afternoon, I distastefully teased you and you reacted all too irritated? Pssh. Too much for last impressions. I know you hated me from that moment onward.

Right in the middle of my paranoia ang overanalytical thinking, you walked in front of me, stopped right there and laid out your hand. I was all too startled that all I was able to do was to alternately look at your palm and your half-smiling, half-jittery face. If not for the question you popped, I wouldn’t have been back to my senses.

“Can I have this dance?”

I gave you my hand and when I stood up, the two-inch heels I was wearing erased the gap between our heights. I was 24 and you were a year younger, I believe. Your hand was cold, my face was flushing. Nevertheless, all of those didn’t matter. We were both smiling… awkwardly at first, but all too reassured in just a few moments.

You were my second but I was your first. And although it took you long, our dance was worth the wait. The moment you led out your hand to take mine sent sparks flying. I’m red and blushing.

My road to the second half of 2012 had undoubtedly been bitter. It was then when I finally lost any chance I had to claiming my first love as mine. Funny but before the year started, I somehow thought otherwise. I thought before then that 2012 would be when we'd be a couple at last. But things transpired differently.

My first 'love'... my first risk didn't pay off. So I guess being weak at heart, I resorted to blaming them --- him and the girl he fell in love with. I resorted to hating chances that weren't given to me. And finally, I ended up blaming myself for opportunities I didn't take and words I didn't speak. I felt so bitter inside that at some point, it almost ate me up whole.

But as they typically say, when you are in your lowest low, it is when you appreciate the smallest spark of light the most. There was no other way but up. And for goodness' sake, I am not getting any younger! Time was rapidly passing me by and I can't stay that way forever. So when the slightest hint of sense kicked in me, on my birthday, I went to the temple and had an enlightening talk with God.

There were a lot of things I wasn't able to tell anybody; they were all kept inside me, like oil that feeds up the flaming bitterness in me. But I had to let go. So all the things I could have said to that one I loved, I told God. I searched for a piece of paper from my bag and found a bond paper, torn in half; And in there I wrote what was supposedly my prayer. And here is a part of what I wrote in there:

They say that in our lives, there will always be that someone we'll ever have. I'm sure that for me, it was you. 

Everytime I remember you and how we never got together, my heart breaks. Was it because I never dared tell you how I felt? Or was it because I've never been good enough to meet your standards? Or maybe because I didn't show how much I cared for you, and was actually showing otherwise --- that I was never interested in you. I was like that always, anyway. Well, it also could be because you were too chicken to admit that you actually liked me as well; or probably, you never really did.

What makes it hurt more is because I already have a lot of plans for us. I've actually set my mind that I'll someday soon I'll marry you in the temple and have kids and a happy family with you. I'll support you with whatever you want to do because that's what dutiful wives do to priesthood holders. And no matter how much or what we have, our life together would be my happiest because we have each other, our family, and Heavenly Father.

But yeah. Because I have faith in God and I love Him, and you taught me to love Him and trust Him more (by example, FTW), I know that He has a much better plans than those that I had. I'll find someone who's much better than you. Someone I will support dearly.

Surely, you're one of my biggest what ifs. But I'll find someone I'll say, "Thank God for His plans!" to. Someone much much better than you in ways that I haven't realized yet but I actually needed. Someday I'll understand. I trust God.

And though I am not yet in the happy ending state for now, I already am on my way there. It is for a fact that we are all used to fairy tales with the princesses being saved by princes. But I'd have to say that I'm more like Snow White. I escaped the evil queen alone and have found a temporary refuge in my friends.

Good things die a natural death. For some, because they weren't meant to be; for others, because the sparks were just accidental.

Good things die a natural death. Ours did just before Christmas. 

I have always said that singing is my first love. Sometimes I say it would be writing. And at times I’d say that it actually is public speaking. But never… never have I said that my first love is dancing.

I know I had somehow been gifted with a knack for dancing. I can move my body real good, without the need for me to think about how to coordinate each part so as I could execute the steps gracefully. And I don’t actually miss a beat. Despite this, I never ever said that my first love is dancing.

Then I saw you.

People abound us but you smiled at me as if we were the only ones on the floor. I was instantly captured... and the story went on.

I looked up and saw the distinct partitions in the sky. On one side, the clouds are white and rare. Seeing their softness makes me sigh and stare. On the other side, the clouds are black and heavy. I’m sure even gradeschoolers would be certain that it’ll rain below that gloomy air.

What seems to draw the mark in between is the sun; strong and bright and full. And as the train on which I’m in is moving northward, I’m soon bound to that black vested area where I’d soon be wishing I’m wearing my boots and carrying with me my dad’s big golf umbrella.

If only life is like that sky where I can determine the fine line between the choice that’ll bring me to the sunlight and the one on the rain, then life would be easy and breezy. Unlike where I am now where my brain is sacked with turmoil of what ifs; all concentrated on how my little world could be always sunny.

I love how the sunbeams knock through my curtains at morning to wake me up. The cold breeze that reminds me of Christmas had long been attempting to disturb me from a deep slumber; but no matter how long it tried to tickle me, my eyes just won’t open up.

I love how the sunbeams kiss my skin with a soothing warmth. The whole night I’ve been all curled up in the embrace of my blanket but it was never really enough. The chilly wind still keeps on teasing my cold intolerance such that my experience in bed revolves around a plea for the clock to tell me it’s already 7 o’clock.

I love how the sunbeams greet my eyes as soon as I step out of the front porch to take my early morning Sunday walk. Since I was a kid, my eyes had never been strong enough to win in a staring contest against the sun. Nevertheless, I’m still never giving up. Who knows? Someday, I might win. Well, either that or I just enjoy the thought that I could play with the sun whenever I want to coz it’s always there. Never mind the triumph or loss.

I love how the sunbeam stays on too strong throughout the day. And how it never forgets to remind me when it’s about time to leave. The heat and light gently fades out until it’s all too soft for me to finally realize the darkness is about to come.

For a split second, I was pushed to a state where I can see my final roadblock. I can clearly sense a dead end about to say hi to me somewhere soon.

So this is how it feels like to have your days numbered. I feel cheated. And devastated. It then hits you that you have wasted a lot of time. An awful lot. This is the point where you realize that most of the things you did brought you nowhere and you actually wasted 80% of your life doing nonsense things, devoting your time to people who didn’t actually deserve it. I felt all too selfish as well. Have I even touched someone’s life, at least? Was I even able to make myself happy? Everything was all for spur of the moment ‘joys’.

All along I was thinking that my future is already planned. Everything’s been structured and cut crisply. And to think that I am a statistician! Hindi ko sinama sa factors ng life model ko yung time. Or rather, the fact that time has a limit, whose ending I don’t actually know.

But it is what it is. 3-4 months. I’d like to make the most out of it. I’d like to have the courage to make the most out of it. No. I would have the courage to make the most out of it. And so I remember a Koreanovela which was once shown here in the Philippines wherein the protagonist made a bucket list of the things she’d like to do before her time is up. And I am inspired!

So I made my own bucket list and here it is:

1) Go out of town. Well, since 3 months is soo scarce to plan a cheap out of the country trip. :p

2) Be able to finish reading at least 3 books. I love reading but being distracted because of other stuff has prohibited me from reading books. I think the last one I finished reading was an English romance novel I found somewhere around the house. Haha. Ang jologs pa, db? I don’t even know who owns it. So yeah, I guess I’d have to refurbish my goal a little. Let’s make it: read at least 3 substantial books.

3) Go on a date. A real normal date. Dinner or lunch. Arcade. Movie. Theatre play. Park. Whatever’s defined as normal. And of course with someone I like at least. :”>

4) Plant at least 2 trees. I love my momma nature. And I believe kids of the future would need it. And… to leave a legacy, maybe?

5) Bike! I never really learned how to bike. (I know! Pathetic!) But maybe it isn’t too late yet. Kahit hindi naman super galing. Kahit continuous na 250 meters lang. Haha.

6) Buy stocks. My personal pick: Jollibee. :)

7) Visit the temple and get in. I want my last service to be baptism for the dead.

8) Join a singing contest… and win!

9) Be able to cook karekare and carbonara all by myself. Well, just so if I’d have the chance to live another life, I could serve it to someone not necessarily special. But yeah, someone.

10) Attend a wedding. Yes, I do believe in marriages, and vows, and true love. hihi.

11) Inspire someone. I don’t know. In a sutle way, a grand way… Somehow. Maybe the thought of leaving and remain living hits me.

This, I guess, is the time of your life when you’d realize that the happy things in life are actually free. All my life after I graduated from college, I was all for the money. But yeah. This reminded me that there’s more to life than money. As the song Seasons of Love from the theatrical play The Rent says, we should “measure life in love”. I don’t know if I’ve had enough. Or if I’d given enough. But I wish 3 months would do me good. To share love to others, and maybe a bit for myself. The clock is ticking.

So I guess I gotta get going…

…yet.

        Earlier this year, I hanged out with a friend I haven’t talked to for sometime but remains dear to my heart. Somewhere between our exchange of banters and serious talk, I told this friend about a guy I was recently crushing on.

        Now I can almost hear you say, “At 24?! You’re still crushing at 24?!” I kinda think it’s not normal as I’ve heard that statement from a lot of people. A lot! And it isn’t like how you see normal 24-year old girls on the television saying the guy they’re eyeing is hot. Or something. I don’t really see guys as that. I’m still in the stage like a high school girl crushing on one of her schoolmates. Well, not that I’d scream (imagine Korean fan girls) like most of them do. It’s more like I’d get kilig inside, turn red, get tongue twisted and  insanely smile-blush like 30 minutes or so even after the most nonsensical conversation or itty-bitty moment we’d have. Like I could sigh, gush, and blush all at the same time.

              “He tapped me on the shoulder today.” *sigh* *gush* *blush* <3

        And while I’m acting all weird and my friend was staring-laughing at me, my friend suddenly blurted out, “You know what, I envy you. That high school feeling of kilig and getting all too mushy, I can’t feel that anymore. I’m now on a higher level and as they say, once you get up, there’s no turning back. I wish I could feel it again, but sadly I can’t.”

       How did I get here? I’ve never been in a relationship and it was my choice. Sure, I get envious with all those lovebirds you can see almost everywhere (unless I’m pissed with them for walking slowly in front of me while I’m on a rush to go somewhere or for being ultra mushy on public places *bitter, eh?*) but I get by. I might have missed a lot but I love my freedom. I haven’t had much courage to do much of the stuff I wanted to do, but yeah, I love my freedom, solitude, and the time I get to talk to myself. 

        And I should say that the best thing about me not having loved yet is that I bought myself 24 years to make myself better. All to that woman I wanted to be. Well, not that I’ve already achieved it. No. I have a lot more of things to do. I still have a lot of flaws I haven’t improved on or learned to love, if ever they’re already unchangeable. I have a lot more things to learn, to experience, and mistakes to correct and to not do again. And when I’m all well and ready and perfect for someone, I think I’ll get a man of my own.

       *Change scene* And so to cut me off from this self-talk going away to a far boo boo place, my friend snapped me off from thinking.

"…but really. Whoever you’re crushing on, he must know you’re such a catch. And I know you too well that if that crushie-crushie would last for long, that must be serious.”