tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7067697868093417442024-03-14T20:06:05.951+08:00The BlogThe misadventures and thoughts of a guy named "Mark"Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-46463913823771164982011-11-09T08:37:00.000+08:002011-11-09T08:37:56.091+08:00The Becky Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcpb9OaKjgptuCOpnJcwz9sMf8QH-VnGSp5HavN7RKH7udbnEOKCjlDuTzDKTCwUf9ZsTrxcwrfiSkSZiFX2jC3KZhxNN5bbAXhGivDK7Fmj4R06wFEzXIUfGYlzs_vTfbZZXsXp6NQwbt/s1600/TBL2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcpb9OaKjgptuCOpnJcwz9sMf8QH-VnGSp5HavN7RKH7udbnEOKCjlDuTzDKTCwUf9ZsTrxcwrfiSkSZiFX2jC3KZhxNN5bbAXhGivDK7Fmj4R06wFEzXIUfGYlzs_vTfbZZXsXp6NQwbt/s320/TBL2.jpg" width="288" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Guys, naghahanap ba kayo ng magandang tambayan? Or bored na kayo sa buhay niyo at bugnot na bugnot na sa inyong routinary lifestyle?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Pwes, narito na inyong hinihintay!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">*Drumroll* Chanchararan! Presenting!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://thebeckylife.blogspot.com/"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">The Becky Life</span></b></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">A Filipino audio podcast where beckies, beckies at heart, bored individuals, and everyone else could</div><div style="text-align: center;">listen to during those sleepless nights, boring days and uneventful moments.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Hosted by four Filipino individuals that come from different backgrounds, the show revolves around a wide variety of topics that people, most esp. beckies and beckies at heart could relate to. With a combination of chika, chorva and other eklavu, The Becky Life would surely paint a smile on your face!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">So visit there website now for more ganap and GV GV experience!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://thebeckylife.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">thebeckylife.blogspot.com</span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-48739519701790131742011-10-18T01:57:00.001+08:002011-10-18T01:57:44.575+08:00Those Eyes of Yours<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">You looked at her with those eyes of yours that could melt any soul</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">But she ignored you, as if you didn't exist, as if you were not there.</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">You just came from school and you asked her for a date, hoping you could be with her</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">But she just looked at you, then turned back to her mobile phone and coldly accepted your offer without even looking back at you again.</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHanjmn7KMquZi5oKm3s7KAyArELt0eZhjMjI2WHCEZf1IIbOqXzpFKuBvdt1fYMc8VHQVBa3nYhXICrMoCiuOeAJTUBQMJ-P5VfE-sBFxapW53wdDpPB7HZ1cw1sTgflXqiz01ehMjbPs/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHanjmn7KMquZi5oKm3s7KAyArELt0eZhjMjI2WHCEZf1IIbOqXzpFKuBvdt1fYMc8VHQVBa3nYhXICrMoCiuOeAJTUBQMJ-P5VfE-sBFxapW53wdDpPB7HZ1cw1sTgflXqiz01ehMjbPs/s320/1.jpg" width="315" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">You were just sitting there on your chair, sitting still, not moving, just looking at her with those eyes that could soften a hardened heart.</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">But she continued texting without even paying you heed.</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYlYGqIf3J5ITdFyJop-tTBj4HQfvdi7Y5AGJt7o0B6EsMxtPsxUpKmrQ2Jt9lpGU_aYScyKkhNR9WAhsj-ZQvXL3K3RT_2YYCD5FQdSrhyphenhyphenUwe612qHExOVGqZJpoNpr1sOyrxXPrMfWYC/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYlYGqIf3J5ITdFyJop-tTBj4HQfvdi7Y5AGJt7o0B6EsMxtPsxUpKmrQ2Jt9lpGU_aYScyKkhNR9WAhsj-ZQvXL3K3RT_2YYCD5FQdSrhyphenhyphenUwe612qHExOVGqZJpoNpr1sOyrxXPrMfWYC/s320/4.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">You asked her if she’s hungry, she didn’t mind you. She looked as if she was bored. She wished she could’ve just went somewhere else.</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">You bought food for you knew she’s hungry after a day’s work but she didn’t see the effort you put. The only thing she wished was to be in a place where you’re not present. Still, you looked at her asking for some attention.</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDPP9jd7BOhfWvJLrcMrnEq5IQjES-AI0u534-ZHKRmsVrfH-se9_DWMiVmEzajp57BjDnJr6Wxt3tK7cuYC-1Nr8RoMMb3pTq3aEF_tGkGoQ6UtSVhURJhLzTI-yRnMxQ5AmW7RTWirLr/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDPP9jd7BOhfWvJLrcMrnEq5IQjES-AI0u534-ZHKRmsVrfH-se9_DWMiVmEzajp57BjDnJr6Wxt3tK7cuYC-1Nr8RoMMb3pTq3aEF_tGkGoQ6UtSVhURJhLzTI-yRnMxQ5AmW7RTWirLr/s320/3.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">You said the food is getting cold and that she’d better not starve herself but she just took a quick glance on the plate in front of her. She went back to playing with her phone, and not a single word. I knew you were about to tear up.</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixwIIFjbJ0-HLNzTBoHhFbKPuqU8HIUDfXd5NVTGP6Vs9WsTkHfy80tTY2_9XpFRvKWFzgTUJx4AL7ReOz7VnJldtWYASkc24glT4EI64wvG0xplYOEQy2-fpAWZHmT1jOF6kyGjlvE6zE/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixwIIFjbJ0-HLNzTBoHhFbKPuqU8HIUDfXd5NVTGP6Vs9WsTkHfy80tTY2_9XpFRvKWFzgTUJx4AL7ReOz7VnJldtWYASkc24glT4EI64wvG0xplYOEQy2-fpAWZHmT1jOF6kyGjlvE6zE/s320/2.jpg" width="255" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><o:p><br />
</o:p></div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">Finally, after a few more tries, she gave in, she ate. And the next 6 words she said were like a huge blow to your face. “Take me home immediately after this.” That time, you lowered your head, and that single droplet of tear could’ve been hidden from the world.</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNN3dURRqXlmpTOnbGFK4aKTz1O2rUrwoAFmR9wufm-LGIjKnEonQdRSs0RgVd_xoUrjM6R-MPC7lnkMENisctIh9ATeuYlsTZhP_hIUX930uDErnmRto6N4xsihWE5PLQACchngf8hKtt/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNN3dURRqXlmpTOnbGFK4aKTz1O2rUrwoAFmR9wufm-LGIjKnEonQdRSs0RgVd_xoUrjM6R-MPC7lnkMENisctIh9ATeuYlsTZhP_hIUX930uDErnmRto6N4xsihWE5PLQACchngf8hKtt/s320/5.jpg" width="253" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">But no, not to me. Yes. I know how you felt. I know how painful the feeling is. And no matter how far I am from where you are sitting, those eyes of yours won’t ever lie. </div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufKOB8UXKjD2UgzEBLKv0ITTt1wftigLA52TCTnJRr7LVDUoDerkn8FWktPhIlfVeL5Sjn4kxvvTnFoCiZ4v0eUxeTxoHxVFr6FblbZH_l510vozWlT0UiCkuGuURCiqxboUAm4Z3BxMl/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufKOB8UXKjD2UgzEBLKv0ITTt1wftigLA52TCTnJRr7LVDUoDerkn8FWktPhIlfVeL5Sjn4kxvvTnFoCiZ4v0eUxeTxoHxVFr6FblbZH_l510vozWlT0UiCkuGuURCiqxboUAm4Z3BxMl/s320/6.jpg" width="254" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><o:p><br />
</o:p></div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">My only wish was to let you see me. To let you know that even if your girlfriend treats you like dirt, there will always be someone out here silently wishing that somehow you will look my way and smile and finally realize that she doesn’t deserve you and you deserve better. </div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">If only those eyes of yours could see… If only they could feel… If only…</div></div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-18826001238952522192011-08-30T18:50:00.000+08:002011-08-30T18:50:40.895+08:00Act 26: Departure (Part 1)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkaFtDSmSzdKSQxWBNJeLu6lEHpHvrMqVhJuz_yn0iY55YD6MVTNSAEPTCVTn97DpZpyft2OC545IQb22_NqPMdz9QO1CXw_ihVRs4vNNf5MYWaJKmVdKoXrTuJKUMVPFzf0mfupiSG3R/s1600/Manila_NinoyAquino_InternationalAirport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkaFtDSmSzdKSQxWBNJeLu6lEHpHvrMqVhJuz_yn0iY55YD6MVTNSAEPTCVTn97DpZpyft2OC545IQb22_NqPMdz9QO1CXw_ihVRs4vNNf5MYWaJKmVdKoXrTuJKUMVPFzf0mfupiSG3R/s320/Manila_NinoyAquino_InternationalAirport.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><b><br />
</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>October <span> </span>5, 2010.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I stared at the date on my planner like a freak. Aside from the fact that I look like a zombie at work, I haven’t been doing anything since I got in the office, and it’s already half past 11 in the morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Today was his birthday. Today was Kuya BJ’s birthday. And it just dawned on me… I won’t be able to see him anymore. He just left the country 18 hours ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The message he sent me was still in my inbox. The second message to be exact. It was that same message that bore the fact that he was bound to work, and probably reside in Saudi… for good. And I just received it… yesterday.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-PH;">No Mark, I’m leaving soon. I’ll be going to the Middle East to work. Mark, I’ll finally be able to be with my mom after a long time. This is what I had been waiting for since mom left to work abroad. I guess this would also open more opportunities for me. And I might stay there, for good...</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-PH;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-PH;">Sender: Kuya BJ</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-PH;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Leaving soon… Yeah right Kuya BJ. How soon is soon? Like a few hours away? I tried to set up a date with him. I wanted to see him badly. To talk to him. To settle our unfinished business. But the next message brought uncontrollable tears that even I could not contain.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12.0pt;">I’m leaving now Marky... In fact, I’m already at the airport. It’s better this way. No tears... No sad good-byes... Take care my little bro. Remember this, you’ll always be my baby bro no matter what happens. I love you.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12.0pt;">Sender: Kuya BJ<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I was at the office and I can’t help but cry. I was shedding tears like mad. How could he do this? How could he leave me this way? Am I that easy to leave and forget? Why didn’t he tell me earlier? His message was too short for me to accept. Just like that? Just because he hates goodbyes and tears? Damn, I just shed buckets for him. Wasn’t that enough sacrifice on my part? He’s just saving his butt from the misery that he had placed upon me. He had just left a curse which I probably would bring for the rest of my life.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">This was one of the saddest part of my life, being left behind by someone I learned to love… For good.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Have you ever felt that feeling of being separated from someone very imporatant yet you know there’s always another chance for you to see each other? You know that there is a definite time that you can again meet? That way of knowing how you can easily see someone whenever you feel like seeing the person? That was not what I felt when Kuya BJ left.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I’ve left people before and I knew I had been left as well, and those experiences totally took a part of my heart away. But I knew they’re there when I need them. I can always bring back that part of me that I had lost in the process. But it was different when you know that you’ll forever be separated from that person. It’s different when you know that you can’t anymore bring back that missing piece.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">A lot of things remained unanswered between the two of us. A lot of what-ifs. And along with these questions are the memories that might probably be forgotten.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">It was as if yesterday that we were together at the kitchen, me helping him cook his specialty, which was truly my favorite. It was as if yesterday that he bought me this cute little stuff toy of a puppy which we fondly called Venice. Those were the days. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">And now, as I sat on my desk, staring at the planner, tears again cascaded down my cheeks. I know Kuya BJ and I had never been a couple but what we’ve shared is far more precious than that of two lovers.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I wanted to shout, to scream, but I was too weak to do so. It was as if all the energy had been sucked out of my life. I’m too tired of all the drama in my life? Why does this always happen to me? Every time I’m about to be happy, something bad will surely steal the show.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Lately, everything had been turning against me. Sometimes, I ask myself, had I been the worst person in the world to be experiencing all these hardships in life? Why can’t it be some random evil guy walking along the streets of Manila? Of all people, why does it have to be me?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Aside from the fact that I’m starting to hate my job and the sudden departure of Kuya BJ, I’m about to fall into the deep abyss of perpetual misery. Gian and I are not doing well so to speak.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.5pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;"> <div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext 1.5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">After that ceremonious day of Graduation, it finally occurred to me that I am officially a bum. After all the laughter and sadness that enveloped the wondrous occasion, I just found myself at a lost. I don’t know where to go next. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Gone are the times when I knew which path to take. I knew that I need to enroll after graduation and I knew I just need to study and pass every year. But now that I already graduated, I’m surely confused.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“You need to get a job!” Gian said with a smile on his face. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I was looking at him with fear in my eyes. Of course, I knew this day will come and all, but I had never prepared well for it. I knew far greater challenges lie ahead, but I’m too afraid that I might not be able to survive. But Gian had been there all along. Through thick and thin. And at this very scary phase of my life, Gian stayed by my side.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Gian that time was already working part-time for an online job which he discovered from a classmate. Since I was out of work back then, he tried to ask me if I wanted to have a part-time job as well, for the meantime.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I got interested with the job, but after knowing what I need to do, I hesitated. Teaching is not my forte. And I know I’m not good at it. I was on the verge of backing out when he told me that he believed I can do it.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“C’mon Beshie, I know you can do it! You have the potential to nail this, and well, teaching is enjoyable, I’m sure you’ll get to meet different people and you’ll learn from the experience.” Gian said to me, flashing his signature smile while holding my hands and squeezing it.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I thought for the whole day what he said, and honestly, I know I can do it. I was just afraid that I might screw up. Most of the time, I have that certain fear of not being able to succeed in my endeavors. But well, I guess my pride and my fears are overtaken by my desperate need for income. And so there I was, in front of my computer trying to input my credentials and sending it to the email Gian gave me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">True as it was, I got a call the following day from the company and I was scheduled for a screening interview, and the rest was history. Since Gian and I are now working for the same company, we usually use the time before and after our work to communicate and talk. It was one of the good times where we enjoy what we do, even if we got tired from working.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">A day became a week, and a week became a month. I was able to get the hang of it, but unfortunately, as months passed by, something bothered me. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I looked at the picture hanging on the wall in front of me and there I saw my graduation picture. <i>Is this what I get from all those painstaking years of study? <o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I know I should not be companing, but eventually, I got bored with the routine. I felt like I wanted to go out and do more; to explore the world out there. I’m getting fed up being locked up in my room and working. Yes, I know I get compensated without being taxed and without the hassles of the traffic, expenses and all, but that was what I miss. As ironic as it sounds, I wanted to experience that. I wanted a working environment where I can communicate with people; an office where I go to every day and that certain place where I can socialize in person, not in cyberspace.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">So one night, after my work, I sent a chat message to Gian.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Gian, I’m tired. I’m quitting.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Short, plain… simple.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.5pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;"> <div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext 1.5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I tried to apply to some companies which often joined the job fairs in our college. Without much of a clue, I printed out a very generic resume and submitted it to prospective employers. After getting the status of inactive from my online work, I allotted a day or two just for this endeavor and I wasn’t expecting that it would be that tiring.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Apparently, Gian was a little shocked with my decision, but he understood me. He knew that I wanted to discover and find a job that would best fit me. As always, he was very supportive.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I was joined by Danny and Rina as we visited each and every booth in a job fair specifically held by an organization catering to students and graduates off to hunt for a job. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">We were getting different marketing paraphernalia from the companies, ranging from the cheap plasticky ballpens and bag tags carrying the company’s insignia and name, to the more expensive jackets and leather bags, and you can notice that we are enjoying the goodies from the looks of our faces. At least, we are getting something out of the tiring walk.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I went to almost all the local companies I can think of and registered, but there was this certain area where foreign companies were located. I looked at my peers and waved at them saying I’m going to check the booths in that section and I saw a look in Danny’s eyes which I usually see whenever she’s thinking about something. She probably knew where I was headed and she thought about something I had said to her a few months back during one of our conversations.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">*FLASHBACK*<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“So Marky, since Graduation is just around the corner, what are your plans?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I was a little taken aback by Danny’s question because we have never talked about this stuff before. Then it dawned on me, <i>what do I really want to do with my life as I step out of this comfort zone known as the University? </i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">To be honest, I have no <i>effin </i>idea. I looked at Danny and I turned to look far.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“You know, I’ll pursue that simple dream of mine. Remember? The one I told you when we we’re still in our freshemen year?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Danny looked at me, bewildered.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“SIMPLE dream! Don’t you remember?” I repeated the statement, making sure that I put a stress on the word ‘simple’.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Danny finally got it and smirked.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yeah right, that very SIMPLE dream of yours. That dream of owning fifty mansions all across the globe, building twenty helipads, operating your own airline and airport, buying all the gadgets in the world ahead of everyone else, and… what are the other things that were part of your SIMPLE dream again?” She finished, grinning. We were both laughing after. She was always great in describing my simple dream, which changes everytime we talk about it (we rarely remember all the things in that ambition so we tend to just choose a big number and a luxurious object to go with it, so it was always random. It should just always have to be very extravagant and almost out of reach).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Yes, it was that simple. Very straightforward. No buts, just purely a dream. But as what they say, dreaming is free so might as well dream big.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Seriously Mark, what do you want to do after we graduate?” Danny looked at me intently, waiting for my answer.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Honestly Danny, I don’t know yet. I’ll probably work my ass off in a company. Be a corporate slave for a while. When I earn enough money, I could start my own business. And from there, I want to still reach my simple dream.” I looked at her from the side and smiled. She just stared far in front of her.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“How about you Danny, what are you going to do?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Me? Well, I still want to provide my mom a house of her own.” She sounded serious, but she didn’t look at me. I felt that sudden rush of emotions from her voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Even if she disowns me for not being able to accomplish her dreams for me, I would still want to provide the house for her.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Danny was a failure in her mom’s eyes. When she shifted out of our former course, her mom wasn’t aware, and she made sure she won’t find out, at least until she graduates. But life plays tricks on all of us and eventually, her mom found out, and from then on, they are not anymore in speaking terms so Danny had to provide for her own studies.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Do you still want to work abroad, like what your mom wants you to do after graduation?” I asked her, as if all the laughter had been sucked out from the world.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I don’t know Mark. I don’t want to leave the country. I want to stay here, but I don’t know what’s in store for me in the future… How about you? Do you have plans working somewhere else?” That was the only time she looked at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“No.” It was the only word that escaped my mouth that time. Danny was still looking at me, probably waiting for an explanation, but when none came, we just kept silent the whole time.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Actually, those words just came out without me thinking. It was like I was on autopilot. Whenever going out of the country and staying there for a long time is the topic, I usually don’t consider it as an option for me. Well, I used to, but after meeting Gian and being with him, I finally dismissed all the thoughts of ever going abroad and living there. I can never leave my heart somewhere far. And never will I.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">*FAST-FORWARD*<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">As I walk the aisle of booths, I slowed down and stared at all the posters and advertisements adorning each stall. I started getting brochures and giveaways and when I reached some random company offering jobs somewhere in EU, I suddenly stopped and checked. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I had a talk with the people manning the booth. They were very nice and accomodating and most of my questions were answered. I left the booth with a smile on my face, but at the back of my mind, something just worried me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">As I was about to exit the venue to take a breather, I was surprised to see someone waiting by the entrance. He was wearing the usual shirt-jeans getup with a backpack which was very familiar to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Gian!”</span></i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> I screeched in my head to my utter surprise. <i>What was he doing here? </i>He was smiling broadly as I approached him, but as I came nearer, his smile suddenly vanished.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Hi Beshie! What are you doing here?” I was all-smiles after seeing him and honestly, I was very glad to see him there.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“What else? I came here to surprise you! Apparently, I didn’t know I would be the one surprised…” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">He looked at me with a serious look on his face which gave me a confused look. After seeing my puzzled expression, he quickly pointed to the brochure I unconsciouly carried in my arms. Only then did my smile fade and I stared at him in a very uncomfortable way. <i>He shouldn’t have seen that brochure, he shouldn’t have.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Gian! Let me explain!” I shouted as he turned his back on me and started walking away.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Again, I smelled trouble. I ran after him as the brochure from the foreign company just slipped away, vanishing from the crowd of people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-5903373405441760982011-08-28T23:08:00.000+08:002011-08-28T23:08:13.598+08:00Opposite Direction<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 16px;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 1.5em;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK2tl-P4Uk6R71a7hHI86YMkX2N2SXoF2bgNOIpi8zZY_JLNR6avWt67A-gsIXVzGWS4xfFHg2i5Hcf_03jNSeWiZSpIdCYeSXLqpfL2LbzCx3gPza6gF-nAw8c8cLTvVMOgKuYEco9w4l/s1600/42-17598107+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK2tl-P4Uk6R71a7hHI86YMkX2N2SXoF2bgNOIpi8zZY_JLNR6avWt67A-gsIXVzGWS4xfFHg2i5Hcf_03jNSeWiZSpIdCYeSXLqpfL2LbzCx3gPza6gF-nAw8c8cLTvVMOgKuYEco9w4l/s1600/42-17598107+copy.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I looked at the glass wall beside me and I saw across the street a boy, slouched along the pavement, trying to sell some cheap bracelets. His face was illuminated by the lamp post solitary standing not far from where he sat. Not long after, I noticed that the boy, apparently, was missing both feet.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">“Mark!” called the person sitting opposite me.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">“Are you alright?” asked the man who just caught my attention.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">“Yes, sorry.” I replied, finally facing him. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">He still had that smile. It was the same smile that melted my heart a year ago when we first met in a company event.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I flashed a weak smile at him as he continued talking. I was too caught by the boy outside that my mind drifted away, not being able to comprehend the rest of what Don, the man whom I used to love, said.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Apparently, he was talking about the next event that he’ll be attending. And he wanted me to come. I just stared at him, trying to scan his face. I wanted to remember every line, every mark on his face.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">“Are you sure you’re alright?” He held my hand under the table trying to make sure I’m okay.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I wasn’t able to respond immediately so he squeezed my hand.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">“I’m sorry Don, maybe I just feel tired…” I said.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">He decided to just take me home so I could rest. I guess it’s better that way. I wanted to be alone. Far from anyone else… Far from Don.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">As we were about to leave the restaurant, I caught a glimpse of the whole place and all the memories came rushing in.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It was the same restaurant were Don and I first met. It was also the same old place where he brought me for our first date. And it was the same place where I saw him… Saw him dating another guy…</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">As Don led me to his car, we passed by the boy I was looking at a while ago. He looked up at me and offered me his ware.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">“Kuya, sige na, bili ka na. Maganda yan, bigay mo sa kasama mo. Sigurado ako magugustuhan niya yan.” He said as he gave a short glance towards Don.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I don’t know what has gotten into me. I know Don won’t appreciate these simple things, and with what he did, he doesn’t even deserve anything from me. Not this bracelet. Not even my heart. But still, I bought the last piece.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The boy thanked me a lot because finally he can go home. I stood there looking at the boy as he tried his best to put all his stuff on his small skateboard-like means of mobility.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">“Hey Mark!” I heard Don calling me as I watched the boy slid his way along the pavement. I walked towards Don and into the car.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I sat silently beside him. As I stare at the window, looking at the starless sky, I remembered the boy. I remembered the way he smiled at me. The sincerity in his eyes. Now, I know that he’ll finally be able to bring something to his family. He’ll finally head home happy.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And now as we drove away, I held in my hand the bracelet I bought from the boy. I wished I could’ve been that boy. Regardless of his disability, I know he’s happy and contented. I know he doesn’t carry anything in his chest and I envy him for that.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Don, took my hand and held it, but I never looked at him. The guy who’s touching my hand is not anymore the same Don I knew a year ago. He thought I never knew, but I did. And the warmth of his hand was never the same. We are currently playing a role in this play he had staged. And I know in the end, I’ll be the victim of this well-played game.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I wish I was strong enough to admit that I’ve been cheated. I wish I am tough enough to face Don. Like the boy who had faced a thousand challenges being a cripple. But we’re very much alike in a lot of ways, like now, we are both about to go home. But as for me, I know I need to face my fears. I need to let it all out.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">When Don again squeezed my hand, only then did the tears start to come.</span></div><br />
Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-69038183363471203582011-07-27T17:32:00.002+08:002011-07-27T17:32:35.052+08:00Meet the Cast of The Blog!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdzJQeCQLsO4_FoGt5Yf3yAkU48-M80AcAtYK-DGm2_ux_GO6KaZCBJgGxuMuvP9jbJTs_OjnC0TeJT761ZNQ_YhZB2NjGAyU3Mz7ILqVZaGBjEUTpYAOc5u8-gnXpal86b3-OqSHnuw/s1600/Meet+the+cast+poster.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdzJQeCQLsO4_FoGt5Yf3yAkU48-M80AcAtYK-DGm2_ux_GO6KaZCBJgGxuMuvP9jbJTs_OjnC0TeJT761ZNQ_YhZB2NjGAyU3Mz7ILqVZaGBjEUTpYAOc5u8-gnXpal86b3-OqSHnuw/s320/Meet+the+cast+poster.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The wait is now over! Just add me up on Facebook so you can finally meet the characters of The Blog! :) You may click the badge on the side of my website or you may click the link below to follow me. :)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/marky.sy">Meet the cast of The Blog! :)</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Hope to see you guys there! :)</div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-26389781044815121812011-07-12T01:33:00.003+08:002011-07-12T01:39:09.446+08:00The Meetup<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqabujHwQIV7vv4GS5y1IOh_uhEySRx2zekh41kmE4ImxoqhuP2zUnbv2fbm3enwGDOrZ9UhnVXpGXPbN04L8BJR453vK9Pst1gH4BFgH-hL7JUCfLjGPJKsAUxA9lMZeHppG3_dCek7pz/s1600/THe+Meetup+bigger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqabujHwQIV7vv4GS5y1IOh_uhEySRx2zekh41kmE4ImxoqhuP2zUnbv2fbm3enwGDOrZ9UhnVXpGXPbN04L8BJR453vK9Pst1gH4BFgH-hL7JUCfLjGPJKsAUxA9lMZeHppG3_dCek7pz/s320/THe+Meetup+bigger.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Have you ever wondered who the people in the silhouette are? Is it the same feeling of wondering who the "real" people behind the characters in The Blog are?</div><br />
Well, the wait is almost over! Due to the consistent demand of readers of The Blog, Mark decided to unveil the real people playing the characters of Danny, Enzo, Rina, Kuya BJ and of course Gian!<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
Since the story of Mark is about to reach the end, what a good way to end it with a bang! :) Finally, you'll soon meet the people behind the story. :) </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">My heartfelt thanks and gratitude for your continued support and patronage of The Blog! :)</div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-90722440013895649722011-06-29T12:24:00.001+08:002011-09-10T12:40:40.218+08:00Feelings Left Unsaid<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_gCYNJVVRcvUXK33bloQdnD2iQjaOYpZCxz5rT8M65tEpXbn6rKVaiZg_10QPs4CEmcdi2XNHsHxK-CJANUdRW0JU2R4OopLB7ixSVKoKCpTeHc0gczx0yRBBaR230-l3OHhsWzluhlNL/s1600/telephone-hanging.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_gCYNJVVRcvUXK33bloQdnD2iQjaOYpZCxz5rT8M65tEpXbn6rKVaiZg_10QPs4CEmcdi2XNHsHxK-CJANUdRW0JU2R4OopLB7ixSVKoKCpTeHc0gczx0yRBBaR230-l3OHhsWzluhlNL/s320/telephone-hanging.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Have you ever shed tears before?” I asked.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Are you just out of questions? Why did you ask that all of a sudden?” she said, laughing.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“No, I’m serious…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Well, yes, all humans cry, you know. Why did you ask?” There was curiosity in her voice.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Does that make me inhuman then?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Huh?” She looked at me as if I was the only person she was seeing.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“I said, are tears important to be human?” I was not looking at her.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Uhm, yes, tears help you wash the dirt away from your eyes. You see, I read in an article that people who cry often could maintain the twinkle in their eyes until they get old.” I know she was trying to lighten the atmosphere a bit.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“I don’t care about science or whatever. I want to know why tears are that important.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Why Caleb? Why these questions?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Why?” That’s the question I’ve been asking myself for years now. “Do I need to answer that?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Well, I don’t know why tears are invented, or why do people cry. Maybe to express emotions…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“I see... Emotions.... You see, I’ve never cried my entire life. All these 19 years of existence and I never even shed a single tear.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“You’re joking right? No human could sup…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“NO! I’m saying the truth!” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">A moment of deafening silence…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“So, you’ve never cried?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“No… Sorry for shouting like that. I was just dead tired of people not believing anything I say…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“I believe you Caleb, I do. It’s just that… How do you express it, you know, emotions?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“I don’t express it. You could say I hide it. Suppress whatever I’m feeling. But you see, anger, sadness, despair, happiness, they all mean the same thing to me.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“What do you mean?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“I mean, I can’t distinguish these feelings from each other. These are what you call emotions, right?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Well, don’t you have emotions in your own world?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“None. I was born and raised like any other person, but I was never taught of these things. I remember the time when I was a baby. I was hungry then, but no one knew. I wasn’t able to express my feelings. I waited for them. For them to notice me. But the next thing I knew, they were rushing me to the hospital.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“But Caleb, emotions and feelings are not taught, they are innate. You know, like when you are hungry or thirsty as a baby, you cry. No one will teach you how to cry to get the attention of other people, you do it on your own.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“But, I don’t know how. It’s hard.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Hard? You don’t force yourself to do them, it’s involuntary.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">It made me think. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You are not forced to cry</i>. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You do it involuntarily</i>. She sounded as if it was that easy.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Maybe for you, but in my case, it was perfectly different.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“I wish I were like you… You don’t need to worry about tears or anything like that. You know, I remember my grandfather beating my older brother for stealing something from our shop. He was crying so loudly that my grandpa got even more furious. He was shouting something like ‘Be a man! Don’t cry! Crying is just done by girls! No man is a weakling! You must be strong and crying is just for weak people!’ My brother tried to stop himself from crying, but he sobbed the whole time. Maybe, my grandpa was correct, and that just means that you are strong Caleb, that’s why you don’t easily cry…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Am I? Strong?” I sounded as if I don’t believe her. “But I was scolded many times before by my dad because I’m such a scaredy-cat. I can’t even walk alone in the dark, and for that, I always ended being beaten up by my father. I don’t actually feel scared, but I just stood there like nobody’s business.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“But most of us are like that when we were little. I am also scared of the dark, and not just that, I am scared of snakes, lizards and rats! Now that you are already a man, I’m sure you've already outgrown your fears”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“Yes, I have.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">“See? So what’s there to worry about, accept it or not, you are such a strong guy! That’s why I love you!” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">She gently hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. All that she had said wanted to make sense in my head but it never matched to anything I have known ever since I was born. No matter how I convince myself that I’m normal, I can’t seem to put the pieces together.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">Then came the day I received a message from Max, Louise’s sister. I never felt this way before. Her voice was so full of what Louise called ‘sadness’. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">She trembled as she spoke. Then she broke the news… Louise was dead, killed in a shootout. I don’t know how to react, but I felt odd inside. It was as if I’m finally feeling emotions that she was telling me before. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">I guess I really have those feelings inside me, just locked up and kept hidden deep within. Or, I knew it existed, it was just that I wasn’t able to show it for I suppressed it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">I was meant to be strong for my family and that was what they thought of me. I must never show weakness. And I guess Louise was correct. In a way, I am strong, but I knew different. I was really weak. Weak not to be able to show what I really feel. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">The telephone receiver slipped from my hands, and for the first time in my life, I let my emotions show. That day, I cried…</span></div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-84621584246755947312011-06-27T13:49:00.001+08:002011-09-10T12:42:54.632+08:00Paghihintay<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv7XWOUscmJeXzf3ZCpGYCVoW9bChYn8KVM-6HSQm_1ZKyNd68HULqQfaslnK4FKwuFwbSVtA8xpEOtgWTbFOO05II1NgeR-gWMBJzR3-r0_77YnHQ5e3xmFZ-fNk-_Q6APbO3NB9lKWhj/s1600/800px-oak_park_bench1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv7XWOUscmJeXzf3ZCpGYCVoW9bChYn8KVM-6HSQm_1ZKyNd68HULqQfaslnK4FKwuFwbSVtA8xpEOtgWTbFOO05II1NgeR-gWMBJzR3-r0_77YnHQ5e3xmFZ-fNk-_Q6APbO3NB9lKWhj/s320/800px-oak_park_bench1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Lilingon… Titig… Babawiin… Lilingon… Bubuntong-hiniga… Yuyuko… Iyon ang madalas kong gawin habang hinihintay ko siya. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Matagal-tagal na rin akong nakaupo sa bangkong ito sa parke, ‘di kalayuan mula sa aming bahay. Palagi na lang niya akong pinaghihintay. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Kung minsan nga naiinip na rin ako. Nakakasawa. Buti pa ‘yung mga taong dumadaan sa harap ko, masaya sila. Wala silang inaalala… Wala silang hinihintay. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Nagawa ko na nga ata lahat ng klase ng posisyon sa pag-upo e wala pa rin siya. Minsan, naisipan kong pagmasdan ‘yung mga taong dumadaan. Hindi ko pa ‘to nagagawa ni minsan sa aking paghihintay. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Una, may dumaang bata, lalaki. Nakasuot siya ng maluwang na polo at kulay asul na shorts. Cute ‘yung polo niya kasi may mga burda ng cartoon characters. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">May suot siyang party hat. Ang saya-saya niya habang naglalakad. Tapos, huminto siya sa harap ko. Tinignan niya ‘yung lobo na nakatali sa kamay niya. Natanong ko sa sarili ko, ano kaya ang iniisip nung bata? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Bigla niyang ibinaling ang tingin sa akin. Ngumiti ako. Bahagya rin akong nagtaka sapagkat walang kasama ‘yung bata? Gusto ko na siyang lapitan para itanong kung nasaan ang kanyang mga magulang pero nung patayo na ako, may tumawag sa kanya at patakbo siyang lumapit sa pinanggalingan ng boses.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">‘Di ko na napansin kung sino ang tumawag sa kanya kasi may isang magandang babae na parating. Sabi ko, astig, ngayon ko lang naisip na maganda rin pa lang maging mapagmasid, sana noon ko pa ‘to ginawa.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Matangkad siya, ‘yung babae. Naka-mini skirt na black at pulang tanktop. Hayop ang dating, para siyang cover model ng FHM. Tulad nung bata, tumigil din siya sa harapan ko. Humikab. Nagsindi ng sigarilyo, humitit ng ilang beses, tumingin sa akin at kumindat. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Tapos may tumawag sa kanya. Hindi ko naman alam kung sino, basta napansin kong nagulat siya. Binitawan niya ang hawak na sigarilyo at tinapakan. Tumakbo siya sa pinanggalingan ng boses.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Susundan ko sana siya ng tanaw nang may biglang kumalabit sa akin. Nung una hindi ko pinapansin, maya-maya pa, nakuha rin niya ang atensiyon ko. Humarap ako at nakita ko ang isang matandang babae na nakalahad ang kamay, aktong humihingi ng limos.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Maamo ang mukha ng matanda. Pero halos hindi mo na makita dahil sa nanlilimahid na itsura. Kaawa-awa talaga ang kanyang ayos. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Dumukot ako ng beinte sa aking bulsa at nakangiting inabot sa matanda. Humingi pa ako ng tawad sapakat ‘yun lang ang aking nakayanan pero ngumiti lang siya at hinawakan nang mahigpit ang aking kamay. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Hindi ko alam kung ano ang naramdaman ko ng mga oras na ‘yon. Umalis din siya tulad nung nauna pang dalawa. At muli kong naisip ang hinihintay ko. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Darating pa kaya siya? Ilang minuto pa, tumayo na ako at naghanda sa pag-alis. Alam kong hindi na siya darating. Naglakad ako papunta sa highway. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Dahil sa kalungkutan, hindi ko namalayan ang rumaragasang bus na paparating. At sa isang iglap, nagtalo sa aking paningin ang liwanag at dilim. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Ngayon alam ko na, dumating siya… Dumating ang matagal ko nang hinhintay… Hindi niya ako binigo. Pinutol na niya ang matagal ko nang paghihirap sa paglaban sa sakit kong ito. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 3.25in 3.75in; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Hindi na ako muli pang maghihintay, at alam ko na sa aking huling hininga, tinupad niya ang aking kahilingan… At sa wakas, sa pagpikit ng aking mga mata, isang ngiti ang mamumutawi sa aking mga labi, dala ang alaala ng mga taong dumaan sa aking buhay…</span></div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-81229900529153832722011-06-22T00:37:00.000+08:002011-06-27T14:07:51.293+08:00Guilty Conscience<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-PH</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FE0SZ7nXXvdqkGymVJSI9WaptJqpKcJ8puKAMFB3x46kQDFsP1isMTCk2UeSly8Kab1jVD5tro-p5ip4tJW6kWkYqWLuoW20g-7h8yvk8RB4JOlHehzatZr7fRprkiGrKHvYmaPdEGi_/s1600/af_SeekingTheShadowMan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FE0SZ7nXXvdqkGymVJSI9WaptJqpKcJ8puKAMFB3x46kQDFsP1isMTCk2UeSly8Kab1jVD5tro-p5ip4tJW6kWkYqWLuoW20g-7h8yvk8RB4JOlHehzatZr7fRprkiGrKHvYmaPdEGi_/s320/af_SeekingTheShadowMan.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">Alam kong alam niya kung ano ang nararamdaman ko ng mga oras na ‘yon. Hindi ako nagsalita. Tumingin lang ako sa kanyang mga mata at muling ibinaling ang aking atensiyon sa ginagawa ko. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">Maya-maya pa’y tumunog ang aking cellphone. May nagtext. Sa wakas, kahit papano ay nabasag ang nakabibinging katahimikan. Binasa ko ang text na nanggaling mula sa isa kong kaopisina. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">Matapos basahin ay muntik ko nang maibato ang aking cellphone. Nanunuot sa aking mga mata ang galit, ang pagkasuklam. Napopoot ako sa kanya. Pero mas naiinis ako sa sarili ko. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bakit ko hinayaang mangyari ‘yon</i>? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">Ipinikit ko ang aking mata at huminga nang malalim. Nang imulat ko ito, nakita ko siyang nakatayo sa harap ko at alam kong nakatingin siya sa akin. Namumugto ang kanyang mga mata. Alam kong buong magdamag siyang umiyak. Tila isang malakas na sampal ang kaawa-awang titig niya sa akin. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">Hindi ko alam kung dapat ko siyang kasuklaman o dapat ko siyang intindihin. Pare-parehong dahilan. May party, may sayawan, may inuman, nalasing, sumama sa kaibigan, may nangyari. Ang masakit, sa bahay ko pa naganap. And worse, she was my best friend.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">Nakita kong muling tumulo ang luha mula sa kanyang mga mata. Gusto ko iyong punasan, tulad nang madalas niyang gawin pag nalulungkot ako. Pero wala akong lakas. Ni hindi ako makatayo mula sa aking kinauupuan. Pinanghihinaan ako ng loob. Gusto kong magsalita at isumbat sa kanya ang lahat ng kanyang pagkukulang. Pero nanatili ako sa aking kinalalagyan. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">Hinawakan niya ako sa aking balikat at bumulong. Mahinang bulong na tumunaw sa buo kong pagkatao. Nahihiya ako sa sarili ko. Ni hindi ko ito magawang tingnan ng diretso sa mata. Hindi ko rin napigilan ang pagtulo ng luha ko. Inihagis ko ang mga gamit na nasa ibabaw ng mesa. Nagwala ako, naghumiyaw. Gusto ko nang wakasan ang buhay ko ng mga oras na iyon. Muli kong nakita ang cellphone ko at muling tumakbo sa isip ko ang mensaheng iyon.</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Courier;">Pare, ngayon ang libing ni Jen,</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Courier;">Wala ka bang balak pumunta?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">Kasalanan ko ang lahat. Ako ang dahilan kung bakit siya namatay. Kung hindi ako uminom nang marami. Kung alam ko lang na tutuksuhin ako ng aking best friend, hindi na sana ako sumama sa party na ‘yon. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">Pauwi na dapat ako. Pero nalasing ako, inuwi ako ng aking best friend at may nangyari sa amin. Hindi ko akalaing sosorpresahin ako ng aking gf.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">Nandun si Jenny, nakatayo sa may pinto. Nahuli niya kaming nasa kalagitnaan nang pagtatalik. Gusto kong ipaliwanag ang mga nangyari pero patakbo siyang umalis. ‘Yon ang araw ng aming anniversary. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sh*t! </i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">At ‘yun din ang araw kung saan nabangga ang sasakyang minamaneho ni Jen. Hindi na siya umabot pa sa ospital. Idineclare siyang DOA.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFTfx6-v7_gpfzbxV2IrgMA7jjEj4ny-ds53E7xEaki6-fkbvBscOVILTzEAe-8wo3_8nZTPJSLy2cxIuIdMgYwPOheY0QIOViZoOBWUF5iHCSUlxzvP8SuTYYY082WnOwhxC48NX7DZYm/s1600/driving+blurred+accident.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFTfx6-v7_gpfzbxV2IrgMA7jjEj4ny-ds53E7xEaki6-fkbvBscOVILTzEAe-8wo3_8nZTPJSLy2cxIuIdMgYwPOheY0QIOViZoOBWUF5iHCSUlxzvP8SuTYYY082WnOwhxC48NX7DZYm/s320/driving+blurred+accident.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US">Napalupaypay ako sa sahig. Nandun pa rin siya, ang taong kanina pa nakatitig sa akin, humihikbi, mugto ang mga mata. Alam kong alam niya ang nararamdaman ko ng mga oras na iyon. At sa isang iglap ay bigla siyang nawala. Ngayon, wala na akong masisi kundi ang aking sarili. Pero kahit na isisi ko sa kanya ang lahat, alam kong babalik sa akin sapagkat ang taong iyon… Siya ay… Siya ay… Ako…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US">____The End____</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US"><b>Note: </b>This was an attempt to write a flash fiction back in college. I was bored waiting for our Math 17 professor so I decided to write something on my notebook. This was the story. I was glad I was able to rummage through my old stuff and able to find this. I was really so <i>emo</i> back then. Haha. :) </span></div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-13480976851842639422011-06-21T01:45:00.000+08:002011-06-27T14:03:58.439+08:00Optimus is not only Smart... It's GENIUS!<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-PH</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">In this day and age, it is very common for people to have a mobile phone. There was even this joke about beggars even seen texting on the corner of the road. Regardless, mobile phones had become a necessity now, rather than just a mere luxury.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSe4LIJOGIA4Mm1V-bfoh3p6mcbwKwWbYIoLpcrE9GmnUULoJBWMtVHqm7r-QhOc4fDF4Lyzlv2XhUTAwpQvtF6JL7C7_FAA1wRE1e58h2X1MgvXDxz5sQf4_P9fnqVReeOYUSHMOk0pL/s1600/Beggar+using+phone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSe4LIJOGIA4Mm1V-bfoh3p6mcbwKwWbYIoLpcrE9GmnUULoJBWMtVHqm7r-QhOc4fDF4Lyzlv2XhUTAwpQvtF6JL7C7_FAA1wRE1e58h2X1MgvXDxz5sQf4_P9fnqVReeOYUSHMOk0pL/s320/Beggar+using+phone.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I remembered the first time I roamed around Greenhills and what totally caught my attention was the huge number of mobile phones and gadgets sellers/buyers occupying a spacious area on one whole floor.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I saw myself standing there and just mouthing the words WOW! God, I was in heaven back then. Being surrounded by gadgets and gizmos had always been my ultimate dream, and right now, I’m trying to live with that. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I had always been what you call a “tech savvy” ever since I was young. I could still remember the first ever phone I had, which was a Nokia 3210. That was when I started to have my own “textmates”. I know it’s funny, but what can I do, I was too young then to even see my phone as something more useful other than finding friends and communicating with them.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">But from then on, I had been holding a new phone from time to time and handing them down to other relatives and family members once I got fed up with it. You see, I had been able to experience all kinds of phones, from the black and white ones, up to the colored ones. Now phones even have cameras and can play music and videos too. Talking about “smart” phones eh?</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Now, mobile phones had gone way far than expected. I no longer see the prehistoric phones that filled up the shelves of stores in Greenhills. And as I transport myself back to the present, I couldn’t agree more with the fact that cellular phones obviously took a big leap over night.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jhUNe8ZdKgrRx-ydk_cNc4qxvfxgoCs2soJWNLN4MGvlC2RpMeyexJX4oEIuFI0mjUA73OiKnvYJpMkbEfHY3RD98dO_ViKu0A805dEjHkQbcB0fDFYkGBTXUPzyjHgXtzFA_-Fz22Y9/s1600/Greenhills.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jhUNe8ZdKgrRx-ydk_cNc4qxvfxgoCs2soJWNLN4MGvlC2RpMeyexJX4oEIuFI0mjUA73OiKnvYJpMkbEfHY3RD98dO_ViKu0A805dEjHkQbcB0fDFYkGBTXUPzyjHgXtzFA_-Fz22Y9/s320/Greenhills.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Being an experienced mobile phone user, I had also been sort of the “adviser” of my friends in terms of mobile phones. Whenever they buy a new one, they would always consult me about what to buy and after following my advice, they would always thank me because they listened to me. Now, I may say that with the fast-paced world, mobile phones have triggered a new age where technology had brought us 10 or 20 years way ahead of us. No longer do we use phones for just mere texting and calling. Their usage had evolved into something more profound, not anymore staying within the “smart” class, but surpassing what we now call the “genius” category.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSG8InebhoxpLLqB907ElAstmrsw9KcfkTRqNUaqDqceSTX1mIBg2TmwIUeaimegKgQiyfUYHh2x-vQIgQm65PGuLsd6VzbV25rEWyGYXNkA6d5WqJoFFAg1zzQ5-aTCrpzJ9QVH8cslyd/s1600/parks-frequently-used-mobile-device.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSG8InebhoxpLLqB907ElAstmrsw9KcfkTRqNUaqDqceSTX1mIBg2TmwIUeaimegKgQiyfUYHh2x-vQIgQm65PGuLsd6VzbV25rEWyGYXNkA6d5WqJoFFAg1zzQ5-aTCrpzJ9QVH8cslyd/s320/parks-frequently-used-mobile-device.gif" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">What totally astounded me with the mobile phone evolution was the fact that a lot of the sole purpose of individual gadgets before had been integrated into mobile phones now. And I think, based on what I see in the market right now, one major player in the mobile phone industry who had been breaking all the boundaries and growing by leaps and bounds is Lucky Goldstar Corporation, or more commonly known as the LG brand. With their major products such as the LG Optimus 2x and LG Optimus Black, I can dare say that these phones nowadays really are the jacks of all trades.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlUzYXnIrH7DkCKfqmYMr9Im1tlbmksoCd7WnTNmjTrXvDNLXCygX3Iz1GkNqL6FBX_0mXteYypqrabsJWZbbReKjdpT32Oi9dzHCo3WXjuh85hdn2RL1FmTJwLVeUyJdyX34FBouroLFy/s1600/Nvidia+and+LG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlUzYXnIrH7DkCKfqmYMr9Im1tlbmksoCd7WnTNmjTrXvDNLXCygX3Iz1GkNqL6FBX_0mXteYypqrabsJWZbbReKjdpT32Oi9dzHCo3WXjuh85hdn2RL1FmTJwLVeUyJdyX34FBouroLFy/s320/Nvidia+and+LG.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Imagine the Nvidia technology, which had been present only in computers before, is now being showcased in LG Optimus 2X. This probably made a lot of gaming consumers drool over wanting to have one. Being the first ever phone with a dual-core 1GHz processor and Nvidia Tegra 2 chipset, LG Optmus 2X would surely capture the attention of gaming fanatics (like me) who want to bring the HD gaming experience in a very compact and portable phone.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoW8rKRXXY7EMCFd85CoBhNrU_v83D_n8DC74KSyqgfl7JeVOhKxx6MdJQeCP48ZbQO-rHWsLaAlMlG-B3-Mw7r_QzFkagaghCjOr-_d-5d9WcQXYkNBMejpizviZktkayJk0-HQtc55I/s1600/LG-Optimus-2X-camera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoW8rKRXXY7EMCFd85CoBhNrU_v83D_n8DC74KSyqgfl7JeVOhKxx6MdJQeCP48ZbQO-rHWsLaAlMlG-B3-Mw7r_QzFkagaghCjOr-_d-5d9WcQXYkNBMejpizviZktkayJk0-HQtc55I/s320/LG-Optimus-2X-camera.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Not only that, cameras, which had been one of the most sought after gadget of all time had also been packed in a very sleek and stylish phone like LG Optimus 2X. The days where you need to bring an analogue camera with a limited roll of film are now a thing of the past. With the help of LG Optimus 2X, I can now take high quality pictures with finer details, greater depth and astounding clarity through its 8 megapixel autofocus camera with LED flash. With this, it’s not anymore impossible to capture very special moments and occasions with my family and friends. And if still pictures are not enough, I can also capture very unforgettable moments through LG Optimus 2X’s 1080P Full HD video recording capability. Sharing intimate moments and momentous occasions will always be as easy as 1-2-3 with the LG Optimus 2X.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Last, but surely not the least, was the ability to surf the net and be in touch with the world anytime and anywhere. Before, this is very impossible since I cannot literally bring and carry my personal computer anywhere I go, until the emergence of laptops and portable PCs such as UMPCs and netbooks. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWiXo_LK-G5vtKlr04xH1lmBFnYlNeVwu_-RvwnfwUXVSKXC5WC7Un_Ao1UEtkJY7Mod7YPr9zda6eC-GnqUvkCB8CbEWCURg_WQCsfPohGh48ZdvbY6y-LU558_IFjn7ON_4IJ6J649Mz/s1600/lg_optimus_2x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWiXo_LK-G5vtKlr04xH1lmBFnYlNeVwu_-RvwnfwUXVSKXC5WC7Un_Ao1UEtkJY7Mod7YPr9zda6eC-GnqUvkCB8CbEWCURg_WQCsfPohGh48ZdvbY6y-LU558_IFjn7ON_4IJ6J649Mz/s320/lg_optimus_2x.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I thought that would end there, but now, with LG Optimus phones’ wireless internet connection capabilities, I can have the power of the internet just within my reach. I can check my blog, my social network accounts even the latest news and happenings in the metro with the touch of my fingertips. With the addition of WiFi 802.11 b/g/n connection, combined with a 4.0<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">″</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"> IPS LCD displa</span>y in the LG Optimus 2X, I can totally enjoy the full potential of the web browser, providing very fast internet rendering and flash-integration. I know I might be getting a tad more excited but aside from the IPS LCD in LG Optimus 2X, I’m sure everyone would drool over the bright Nova display on the LG Optimus Black which again, will be another frontier in the mobile phone industry.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0AgIl6ZPxmtnqI5-tfbnjv0D6W9ss_LnasGpQbYxGZG0wKRkSxCDdCIr6sFeZKpTP_9n1a3ZXsOsQiTajgdlc23X7m2Wm2n1e-S79RxBcJd2NKSJ_1O-jy2bpK57IZre4bKdh0CJK-wNW/s1600/LG-Optimus-Black-P970-with-Nova-Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0AgIl6ZPxmtnqI5-tfbnjv0D6W9ss_LnasGpQbYxGZG0wKRkSxCDdCIr6sFeZKpTP_9n1a3ZXsOsQiTajgdlc23X7m2Wm2n1e-S79RxBcJd2NKSJ_1O-jy2bpK57IZre4bKdh0CJK-wNW/s320/LG-Optimus-Black-P970-with-Nova-Display.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">With all these things being possible with the LG Optimus 2X and LG Optmus Black, I no longer have to save a lot of money for a camera, a TV, an HD video player, a gaming console and a laptop. No longer do I need to carry the burden of bringing all these things with me because with the LG Optimus 2X lightly placed on my palm or discreetly stored in my pocket, I can already enjoy the things I like doing. It’s like getting the comforts of having an all-in-one gadget. For me, that’s what makes a “smart” phone truly a genius one. Being able to satisfy all the needs of a tech savvy like me had already proven that LG Optimus phones are the ultimate genius phones I had been waiting for all these years.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbOGPQBWmKyB3TYwdv9aePhcbUABq4N-dihYW9ifga0Z7QBn6noXRg-VvuSxiix8F0vfj8O9HsY3ZHBcbYwj8Wnab0LgEx45WPwmxQjdmCdMaCutrL9xMRS6A9ItcMPR-tnmaKsj0tL5I/s1600/LG.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbOGPQBWmKyB3TYwdv9aePhcbUABq4N-dihYW9ifga0Z7QBn6noXRg-VvuSxiix8F0vfj8O9HsY3ZHBcbYwj8Wnab0LgEx45WPwmxQjdmCdMaCutrL9xMRS6A9ItcMPR-tnmaKsj0tL5I/s320/LG.gif" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">As how the saying goes, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">“</b><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">Optimus is more than just smart. It’s genius!”</span></strong></div><div> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">Visit <a href="http://www.lgoptimus.ph/" style="color: blue;" target="_blank"><b>lgoptimus.ph</b></a><span style="color: blue;"> </span>for more information. :)</span></strong></div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-46314512493167999122011-06-17T11:47:00.003+08:002011-06-17T11:55:55.516+08:00Coming soon on The Blog... The Stories of Gelo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZS5iS2NX4hCVvdceRC1XKYP6IJnN0Sysie-WoAUqRlYvJuTV9h68QRCuumgCBJk_JR9l0vJoj0AhU3z6j5pe71Du2o3k0o1qQLKZ50jXCaFw1i4Yek5YxfZw3El3pOqtyVlNyf7zRGmJ/s1600/welcome+photo+%2528final%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZS5iS2NX4hCVvdceRC1XKYP6IJnN0Sysie-WoAUqRlYvJuTV9h68QRCuumgCBJk_JR9l0vJoj0AhU3z6j5pe71Du2o3k0o1qQLKZ50jXCaFw1i4Yek5YxfZw3El3pOqtyVlNyf7zRGmJ/s320/welcome+photo+%2528final%2529.jpg" width="298" /></a></div><br />
Hello fellow readers and followers of The Blog! :)<br />
<br />
How are you guys? I hope you are all doing fine!<br />
<br />
I'm sorry if the updates are slow these days, a lot had just been going on and I hardly find time to write the stories. But I assure you that more stories will be posted here soon! :)<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, I would like to introduce yet another budding blogger who's also a good friend of mine. He'll be sharing his stories with you guys and I've got the honor to host his stories here in The Blog.<br />
<br />
I hope you welcome him whole-heartedly the way you welcomed me. I assure you his stories will make you cry and smile at the same time, and most importantly, inspire you one way or another.<br />
<br />
So, for now, just keep posted for the <span style="color: red; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Stories of Gelo"</span> which will be featured here soon.<br />
<br />
Again, thank you for your continued support and God bless y'all. <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: yellow;">^_^</span></span><br />
<br />
-MarkyMarkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-20869175131436763832011-06-13T23:18:00.003+08:002011-08-29T00:39:36.150+08:00Act 25: Brothers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghDTY33bQ1ALAYUjPPFnyghedIYIqWueLTx7GsUaacllNjOOLwCu6j10v-GGN9QfTbt6C85cXVai-X7dTk8_HUCRqfbsVOTE8v-s1NBVPgB7Z86xTZeQ_eqHVHXPvp8RmxjlWvxl2-3Qec/s1600/brothers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghDTY33bQ1ALAYUjPPFnyghedIYIqWueLTx7GsUaacllNjOOLwCu6j10v-GGN9QfTbt6C85cXVai-X7dTk8_HUCRqfbsVOTE8v-s1NBVPgB7Z86xTZeQ_eqHVHXPvp8RmxjlWvxl2-3Qec/s320/brothers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Hello baby bro! I hope you still remember me! Musta ka na?</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Sender: Kuya BJ</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The light from my phone went out but the message lingered in my head. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Kuya BJ? Why did he send me a message all of a sudden? After all the things that happened in the past, why would he still send me a message?</i></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Kuya BJ had been a very big part of my life, and that is not an overstatement. If there is someone who I can say I considered to be a real brother, that would be him. That status actually was the reason why our relationship had been both bitter and sweet.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I could still remember the first time we got to know each other. It was due to an unexpected message that came through my mobile phone.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">That time, I was in the university, trying to inquire about the entrance exam and the requirements I need to be able to take it. Being new to the whole experience of finally doing something on my own for the first time, I can still imagine the gallons of sweat I perspired that time.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">It was such a hot afternoon, so after finding my way and finally getting my application form, I decided to rest for a while. As I sat on a bench under a shed, my phone vibrated, and that was the first time I felt something vibrating. When I looked at my phone, I already got 23 new messages. I wasn’t able to notice my phone the whole time I was talking with the admin officer in the Admissions office.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Most of the messages came from my high school classmates asking me how my trip went. They had a lot of questions which I thought I’ll just answer when we see each other.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Then there was this one message (the one that caused my phone to vibrate just this time) that stood out among the rest, mainly because it was just a number.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Normally, it is very seldom for me to receive messages from unknown senders because I rarely give my number. Only my classmates and members of the family knew it, and now, here’s this number illuminated on the screen, as if trying to convince me to open it.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Anyway, instead of just erasing it, something told me to just open it and erase it afterwards. After clicking the number, a message appeared on the screen.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Hey! Kamusta ka na? Ang tagal na nating hindi nagkakausap. Text ka naman jan. Miss you.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Sender:+63922*******</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I was looking at the message with a blank face. Then I started thinking deeply as to who could’ve sent this text.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I tried to list down in my head people whom I had not connected with for the longest time, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t remember any. More importantly, I had no idea of someone I know that has a phone but is not registered in my contacts list.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">As hesitant as an aeroacrophobiac about to do a bungee jump, I still replied to the message.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Who’s this please?</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I tried to be as casual yet polite as possible even if I got a feeling that it was just a missent message. To be safe, I tried to be more decent, but to not sound excited or interested at the same time.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">A few seconds later, my phone again vibrated and the person behind the unknown number replied.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Hey! Sorry ha, the message was supposed to be for my friend whom I haven’t talked to for a long time already. What’s funny is that her number and yours are almost alike, except for the 8 and 3 at the end. When another friend of mine gave her number, the 3 looked like an 8 so when I sent the message, it went directly to you instead to her. Sorry about that.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Sender:+63922*******</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The message was quite unusually long that made me somewhat interested with the sender. Normally, when a message is sent to the wrong person, a short “sorry, wrong send” message will suffice, but this message was an effort. So to be fair, I also replied with a very friendly tone.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Oh, it’s okay. I don’t mind. Anyway, thank you for the quite long yet very informative explanation of what really happened. The effort is appreciated. At least you’re not a stalker or a bad guy targeting a new victim. Have a nice day! :)</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">When I pressed send, I thought it would be the end, but I was mistaken. A few more seconds when I was about to leave the shed to ride a jeep, my phone vibrated again. It came from the same unknown number.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Wow, you are very nice! Thank you very much for understanding. And also, thank you for replying to my messages, I know I’ve been wasting your load but I’m having a good laugh with your reply. How sure are you I’m not a bad guy? You don’t know, I might be stalking you. By the way, why are you wearing a black shirt?</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Sender: +63922******* </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">After reading the message, I don’t know but I laughed at it for unknown reasons. Maybe because he sucked in acting like a stalker. I know my message sounded a little sarcastic with the bad guy comment and all, but I just really suck in making funny statements. Most of the time, I often get misunderstood because of that. Anyway, the message caught me so I replied.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Oh wow, you’re such a lousy stalker. For your information, I’m not wearing a black shirt. Hahaha. But to be honest, I planned on wearing one this morning.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">After sending the message, I noticed how it sounded too flirty. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">God, what am I thinking?</i> I don’t actually flirt with someone, even more with a stranger but there I was exchanging messages with an unfamiliar person. I thought at how pathetic I looked, but I was just too hooked with the whole <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">talking to a stranger</i> idea.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I just find the whole exchange a breath of fresh air. It had made me smile and laugh even after a very tiring day at the university. Never did it enter my mind afterwards that this person might probably know me and just trying to pull my leg, or might even really be a psycho-killer who wants to get my trust and then kills me afterwards.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">What the heck, I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me, so why should I worry? Right? As much as I try to contradict myself, I know I can’t erase the fact that I’m enjoying the whole thing.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The next thing I thought about was whether this person was a guy or a girl. That time, I know I’ve been different already and that I get attracted with the same sex, but I haven’t disclosed that fact to anyone. Of course, this person doesn’t also know whether I’m a guy or a girl. Our responses remained to be as androgynous as possible. Not until the next message he sent.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Btw, I’m Benjamin Jose. BJ for short. May I know whom I’m talking to, if it’s okay? :D</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Sender: +63922*******</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">After reading the name, I silently laughed. His name sounded like a name from a Mexican telenovela (along with the likes of Fernando Jose and Juan Miguel) which was very popular that time.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">At the back of my mind, I was actually worried because he was a guy. And I know for a fact that guys would prefer to talk to the opposite sex rather than the same sex, most specially if it is a stranger you are talking to. Not unless…</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">So there I was, holding my phone and wondering what to reply to his message. I can pretend to be a girl so he wouldn’t be disappointed and because I really enjoy his company even if we’re just texting, but how far can that take me? If I say “I’m Marky” and that I’m obviously a guy, I would surely risk losing him and throwing all the nice conversations we had.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I was thinking deeply when I finally decided to just be honest. Anyway, I can’t forever hide from a girl’s name and get away with it.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Uhm, hi Benjamin Jose. Uhm, I’m Marky.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I kept my message as short as possible. No smileys, no anything. Plain. Simple. I was thinking of two possible scenarios after sending the message. One, either I would get a hate response from him and he would curse me for not telling it straight ahead. Or two, I would not get any response whatsoever. Anyway, regardless, I still have that very tiny glimmer of hope that it would turn out otherwise.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The next thing I know, my phone was already vibrating and when I looked at my inbox, it was from him. I did the sign of the cross and hoped for the best.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Hi Marky! Nice to know you! Btw, don’t call me Benjamin Jose, aside from it being too long, I sound like a Telenovela character. Just call me BJ for short. :)</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Sender: +63922*******</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">After reading the message, my heart fluttered like there was no tomorrow. I was obviously smiling at my phone, which grabbed the attention of some of the passengers in the jeep. I just smiled at them and I quickly replied.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Whew! Gee, I didn’t expect you would still reply. But I’m really glad you did. I’m actually getting ready to receive curse words from you. Thank God I was wrong. :D</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">With that, the rest was history. He told me that he’s fine texting with another guy and that for him, friendship should not be limited to age, gender or even nationality. I can’t believe how open-minded this guy was. To be honest, during that time, even if I know that I’m different, I haven’t actually immersed myself in the world of bisexuality or even homosexuality. The society had a strong grip on me and I know I’m still bounded by the norms.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Anyway, that was how we found each other and when I learned that he was two years older than me, I finally decided to call him Kuya and he was fine with it. He even told me that he also had a brother but he already passed away. What made me closer to him is the fact that if his brother had been alive, he would be the same age as I am.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I guess that was one reason why he was very protective of me, and very affectionate as well. He has three sisters and not one brother, another reason for him to be closer to me. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">No matter how I put it, I’m still a guy, and he could still relate with me more compared to his sisters. Not that he is not close to them, in fact, he is also very protective of them, but he did the same for me. He actually treated me not less than a real brother.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Apparently, the next few weeks, we decided to meet. That was when I went back to the university to submit all my requirements. Since he lives not far from the university, we decided to take the opportunity to finally meet.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">To be honest, I was very nervous back then. Even if we had been good friends and we’ve shared a lot of things with each other already, the whole idea of meeting up is still new to me. I don’t know how I would act, or what to expect.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I am actually more anxious about what he expects from me. Back then, I was a very lousy dresser, and I don’t really fix myself to impress or grab the attention of others. I just comb my hair and wear whatever I can get from my closet. For me, as long as I wore something, I’m already fine with it.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">If I could remember, where we met was the same waiting shed where we first texted. It actually happened coincidentally. Since I’m still not very familiar with the places in the university and since it will also be the first time for Kuya BJ to go to the place, we just kept on texting and describing where we are. Because I know a little more than him regarding some major landmarks, I decided to be the one to go to him. Apparently, the waiting shed he chose was the same waiting shed I had been before we texted, and when I told him, he just can’t believe it.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Anyway, the first few minutes were a little awkward but eventually, we got along well, like when we were still texting. Kuya BJ is not exactly a head turner. Like me, he is very simple, but he knows how to dress up properly. He can be fashionable but he knows how not to overdo it. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">That time, we were about the same height but I grew up a few inches higher than him. He has a more <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">moreno</i> skin, an average built and based from what I saw, he is a little on the hairy side.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Everything happened from there and from then on, we did a lot of things together and shared a lot of things. We treated each other like real brothers, but unlike others, we are very affectionate towards each other. We show and say how we care for one another and I can say we did love each other like real brothers.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">As time went, I was able to introduce him to my parents, and at the same time, he was able to introduce me to his family as well. All of his sisters were very nice to me, as well as his mom. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to meet his dad because it already passed away when he was still young.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I can’t say our relationship had been smooth all the time. We also had some rough patches here and there, but we managed to fix all those up.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">My mom would oftentimes describe us as the cat and mouse tandem. We have had lots of petty fights but those were fights that usually end up in both of us admitting our mistakes and just laughing it all off afterwards.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">We were very much immature back then. We get jealous with very little stuff and we easily get emotional whenever we both don’t get our way. But one thing I could remember back then was that we seldom get angry at each other at the same time. Whenever Kuya BJ is not in a good mood, I would usually be the one to comfort and woo him. But whenever I am the one who’s upset, he will be there to calm me down.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I remember before that he usually looks at me in the eye and he would hug me really tight and I would feel the sincerity during those times. I would then soften up a bit and the next thing I know, we are already on each other’s arms.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">If I were to be asked, Kuya BJ and I had this certain bond that falls between being brothers and being in love. During that time, we knew we compliment each other. We act like lovers when we’re alone or in private but we joke and fool around like brothers in public.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">It was actually a very confusing setup. We were together, acting like brothers but we feel something there that we cannot really fathom. It’s like being together and enjoying each others company, without the labels and all. We just enjoy the time that we spent with each other, regardless of how we really see ourselves.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">It’s complicated, I know, but it was as if we had this unspoken pact between us that binds us together in a very unexplainable way. That was all before he actually got fed up with the whole thing and decided to take it up a notch by telling me how he really felt towards me. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The confession changed a lot of things between us. And the way we treated each other changed. I know it shouldn’t have been the case if only I was mature enough to accept him as my first ever boyfriend, but I am stronger than him. I held back all my feelings for him and felt that we should be better off as friends. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">That really broke his heart, but he cannot do anything about it. He knew how fix I am with my decisions. Now that I think about it, I still wonder what could’ve been if I accepted him. But still, I didn’t regret the choice I made.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.5pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;"><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext 1.5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I hesitated for a while but still, I replied. I don’t want to look rude and if ever, I really don’t know the reason why I should not reply.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Of course kuya! How would I forget you? Btw, I’m doing well now. Thank you! I already got a job in a bank and so far, I’m getting used to the whole new experience. How about you? I haven’t heard from you for a VERY long time. I guess we really need to catch up on everything that happened while we were NOT communicating.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I made sure to put stress on parts which I really meant to say. I know he would notice it, and most probably, he would sense it. I want to make him feel that I’m not that interested yet I was a little looking forward to seeing him again. Not long after, he replied.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Haha, well, I know it had been a long time, and I know I owe you a lot of stories. Things that happened to me and why I was not communicating with you for the past few months. I have my reasons. And by the way, I’ll be leaving soon...</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Sender: Kuya BJ</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">My eyes rolled when he said he had his reasons, but what had gotten my attention was the last part of the message. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I’ll be leaving soon… </i>What does he mean? And with the ellipsis at the end, I know he is serious about it. I sense the urgency in his message and the abrupt change in tone. I quickly replied.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Leaving? Going where? To the province? To your hometown? For how long? Is everything alright over there?</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Waiting for his reply took a little longer than usual, and the wait had been painstaking for me. I wanted to know what’s up with him. He went to their province a few times before but he does not sound too stern when he told me about it, but now, I just felt something in his message.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Finally, my phone vibrated. I quickly opened the message and after reading it, I just stared at it. I don’t know what to feel. Should I get angry? Should I feel sad? Should I feel indifferent? But I can’t control myself from feeling different emotions at the same time. The next thing I know, I’m already setting up a date with him, ASAP. After replying, I leaned on my chair and closed my eyes, I don’t know why I felt that way, after all that had happened between us, but I just felt that piercing feeling of loneliness and longing deep within me that I cannot explain. As my phone lie on top of my table, I still had the message illuminated on the screen before the lights went out.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">No Mark, I’m leaving soon. I’ll be going to the Middle East to work. Mark, I’ll finally be able to be with my mom after a long time. This is what I had been waiting for since mom left to work abroad. I guess this would also open more opportunities for me. And I might stay there, for good...</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12pt;">Sender: Kuya BJ</span></div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-4669416191129197752011-06-09T16:17:00.000+08:002011-06-27T14:08:40.214+08:00Blurred Past<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-PH</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU-EpQlfWHeAjxwO4mLZGPK32Saor_tfMdbw87RqA1kCHUYT3NhcOyoLMBpVkKfigwLWG9LHc_WKs8Kpl9IYSH3Wk0d4irAJRFpDIQ9aGBVQGtAY_ovw2LL_F6RhsFShP7V9bEWPm7wrH_/s1600/9pyqur.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU-EpQlfWHeAjxwO4mLZGPK32Saor_tfMdbw87RqA1kCHUYT3NhcOyoLMBpVkKfigwLWG9LHc_WKs8Kpl9IYSH3Wk0d4irAJRFpDIQ9aGBVQGtAY_ovw2LL_F6RhsFShP7V9bEWPm7wrH_/s1600/9pyqur.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-US">I stood up in an empty lot. Everything was as white as snow. It was silent, as if something was plugging my ears. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">I took a few steps from where I was standing. But since I can’t see anything but white, I wasn’t sure of where to go. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">I again stopped and waited. Then something came into me. It was like a film being played at the back of my mind. It was so clear that it seemed like it was really happening right in front me. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">Was it a memory? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">Then I saw this young boy. He was around 5 or 6 that time. He was wearing an old, loose shirt and it was full of patches. It was so big for him that it covered almost his entire body. He was sitting on a chair and his face was buried on top of his folded arms on top of a table. It seemed as if he was crying due to sobbing sounds I heard. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">Then I went near him and saw some hints of dried red liquid stains on his arms and shirt. He had wounds all over his body. Lashes made by a whip. Then he slowly raised his face and there I saw the most horrible thing. He was bleeding… Literally… He had swollen cheeks and badly bruised lips. His eyes were blackish violet and he had a long cut running from his sideburns to his left eye. He was really crying. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">I never realized who the kid was, partly because his face was almost indiscernible due to the wounds and cuts, and because my memory was cloudy. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">I wanted to approach him, to help him. But when I was about to touch him, he vanished. Where am I? I was confused. I didn’t even know how I ended up here. I can’t remember anything… Nothing at all. Then another figure came into picture. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">He was a young man, maybe around 17 years old. He was wearing a cap which was covering his face. There was something about that cap that was very familiar to me. I just can’t remember. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">He was leaning on a wall and he was smoking a cigar. Obviously, he looks like a rebel punk, with that black overall, an earring on his left ear and tattoos on his right arm. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">A lady appeared in the scene and she passed by in front of the teen, and in an instant, he snatched her bag with great speed. I tried to run after him, wanting to get the bag that he stole. He was fast, but I was able to at least keep him in sight. But something terrible happened. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">He was accidentally hit by a speeding vehicle when he tried to cross the street and he fell to the ground. Unconscious… Barely even breathing.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">A group of men came rushing towards the poor, young thief. I thought they were going to help the kid but I was astonished at what they did. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">They kicked and hit the young lad. They sucked the life out of him… They immediately ran after hearing the sound of the police running towards the accident. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">I went closer to the boy. He was gasping for air, but he could not anymore move. Then I saw him… I saw his face… He was looking at me… As if begging me to help him... </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">I saw a tear roll down his left eye, and it followed the trail of a long healed wound that run up to his sideburns. Then he solemnly closed his eyes. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">Everything will now be peaceful for him… And everything was clear to me… I turned my back and and saw that cap that the boy was wearing a while ago before the accident. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">I took it and hold it closed to my heart. It was the gift my late uncle gave me for my 15<sup>th</sup> birthday and it was the only present I received during that time. Then I closed my eyes. I ran my fingers on the side of my face. And I touched the healed wound that ran from my left eye to my sideburns. And tears rolled down my eyes.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-62056421787997671312011-06-09T15:45:00.001+08:002011-06-27T14:08:40.215+08:00Circle of Friends<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzfNXR3OPGUhT5_DeUQNpNOSBFU6VReFCHwH45-nw3aiL6th3k0vGTq1xpdUDepUfUpAxfq9WOT78vz6wfubAOLZTDQfQZm8dINP85O0AWmJxwyXYZjbOTUqKMJr13B5NZkaf-InpX3SG7/s1600/psychopath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzfNXR3OPGUhT5_DeUQNpNOSBFU6VReFCHwH45-nw3aiL6th3k0vGTq1xpdUDepUfUpAxfq9WOT78vz6wfubAOLZTDQfQZm8dINP85O0AWmJxwyXYZjbOTUqKMJr13B5NZkaf-InpX3SG7/s320/psychopath.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-US">I was never alone. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">Yes, I’m always with the company of my friends. They were so many that most of the time, I lose count of them. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">They were almost uncountable. The combined number of fingers and toes in both my hands and feet won’t even be enough to tell you how many my friends are. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">All I know is that they were always there for me when I need them and that they will never ever leave me. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">Wherever I go, I always make sure that I bring even just a piece of them. And they will gladly hand me something without hesitation. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">To make sure that I will really never be alone. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">And that always makes me happy. Yes, very happy. And whenever I come home from, they always greet me with a smile and they would always ask me how my day went, and of course, I would gladly tell them everything that happened to me that day.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US"> But you know what, I feel guilty because even though I always treat them fairly, I could never erase the fact that I like some of them more than the others. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">One of them was Mathilda. She was that fair-skinned young lady who always asks me if I enjoyed my day. And yes, no matter how bad my day went, she was always there to cheer me up. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">She always accompanies me as I do my favorite pastime. And after I do mine, she would even offer her wrist. Then I’ll gladly trace some lines on that soft piece of skin. And she would just smile at me, enjoying what I was doing to her. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">Another one of my friends that I’ve shown more affinity with was Pietro. He was one of my latest friends and he was born from a middle-class family. Before, he used to tell me how sad he was and how he regrets having a family whose parents were always fighting and arguing. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">He told me how he forsake his parents and how he hated them. He even wished to die and he would assure me that his parents won’t even notice he was already gone. I hate it when he tells me these because he was always crying when he does. And my hatest moment was when I see my friends cry. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">Days after, he was already smiling. He also stopped bothering me about his parents. He just told me he was happy. Happy that he would finally be able to be with me and join me forever. And I’m glad that he was now part of my growing circle of friends. The last time I went out, he gave me his most treasured organ, his penis, to assure me that I would be safe and I gladly took it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">Right now, I’m still keeping it in my pocket and I always carry it wherever I go. I love playing with it inside my pocket. It always makes me feel secure, knowing that Pietro was with me.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US"> Yes, they were my friends who never left me. Oh, I almost forgot Criselda. She was the most special of all of them. You know why? Because she sacrificed her happiness for me I remember that day perfectly well. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">She was with her boyfriend that time. She was having a good time with him, but I don’t like the guy. He doesn’t deserve her. So, when they were in the parking lot, I saw everything. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span lang="EN-US">He was bleeding after being stabbed in the stomach with a knife Criselda knew very well. She began to cry and scream. I told her to stop but she continued yelling at me. I couldn’t take it. I didn’t like my friends getting mad at me. So I gave her what she deserved. And then, she began to smile. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-US">The sadness in her eyes was gone and she stopped crying. Everything was silent afterwards. Then I hugged her. We were both soaked in blood but we both lied down there peacefully. She just laid her head on top of my chest. She was directly looking at her dead boyfriend, but she was still smiling. That night, I took her home. And she was very happy to be with me… Forever...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></div><br />
*The story above was written by The Guy when he was still in his Freshman year in college. It was written for his friend Danny and was about stepping into the mind of a madman. He never thought that he had that inner psychopath in him but now, he is already perfectly normal. The thoughts only occurred inside his head and will never translate in real life. Peace! ^_^ VMarkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-28681089082420363332011-05-14T23:32:00.000+08:002011-06-27T14:08:40.216+08:00Photographs and Memories<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-PH</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivt6p-aVnjsUrjt0_ktQQK-KAGv-mni87jPAsgRa9q0qI_f8L6TZ56-clFU-CbyX9aO7IiLI3536YTb0nt1Fb5IQgOXgf7S7jQjaBVUUt9WyCoB-3e_ebd8Esy_yHyOfASCDAZoCBbul19/s1600/nikond80_mirror.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivt6p-aVnjsUrjt0_ktQQK-KAGv-mni87jPAsgRa9q0qI_f8L6TZ56-clFU-CbyX9aO7IiLI3536YTb0nt1Fb5IQgOXgf7S7jQjaBVUUt9WyCoB-3e_ebd8Esy_yHyOfASCDAZoCBbul19/s320/nikond80_mirror.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">“Wow, look at these pictures, the subjects look so real. You can feel the emotions coming out of them.”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">One of the students said to her friends as they continue to roam around the exhibit. I was actually fixing the lens of my camera when I overheard other people praising the photographs on the wall. I just smiled as I stood on one corner.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I never actually imagined that all of my dreams would soon come true. This exhibit, which was my first, was beyond what I thought of. I was just a fresh graduate back then when I dreamt of becoming a professional photographer.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Graduating as a business student from a not so popular university in the metro, I really had a hard time looking for a job that I like. Most often than not, graduates from known business schools and top-caliber universities always land the jobs that I only dreamt of. That was when I started thinking about photography.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">It has always been my passion to take pictures even when I was young. During my 14<sup>th</sup> birthday, I received my first analogue camera from my uncle from the US and that was the beginning of my interest in taking pictures. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I would usually finish off a roll of film just by taking pictures of random things. Then, I would save up my allowance just to be able to buy a fresh roll. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">You see, we came from a not so well-off family and both my parents were just regular public teachers, and so, photography had never been on top of the list in terms of the courses I would take in college. Aside from it being too expensive, my parents don’t think it’s a practical course to take since my future would not be assured.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">So even if I am very much inclined to taking a photography course, I decided to just pass it off and go for a business course. And like most graduates desperately looking for a job, I ended up in an industry where speaking English fluently is the name of the game.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Yeah, believe it or not, I was once a call-center agent. We coin terms such as customer service representatives, customer care associates, and whatever euphemisms you may think of, but regardless, we are still what you may call “glorified telephone operators” working in the zombieland.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I don’t mean to offend the other agents like me out there, but hell that’s how I see it. I am a corporate slave and it’s really far from what I imagined would be, getting a college diploma and all. Now, all I see is myself, working for the benefit of those huge conglomerates taking advantage of cheap labor.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">That was how I started my life after the momentous occasion that we all call college graduation. After all the encouraging speeches and optimistic messages, along with the smiles and excitement of thousands of hopefuls, I still wasn’t able to pursue that thing that I really wanted. Not until now.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Everything that happened actually was due to some twist of luck. A few months ago, after I left my job of being a sponge absorbing people’s stupidity, a friend of mine invited me for coffee in one of the busiest districts in the metro. Well, it was quite a long time since we saw each other, so I thought, why not.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">So there I was, sipping on my cup as my friend told me everything that happened to him after college. He was now an events photographer for a well-known company. The whole time I was with him, I was actually just looking at the SLR hanging on his chest. Then, he probably noticed it so he asked me if I’m willing to assist him in an event that he’ll be covering.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">My eyes lit up with what he said. Jake actually knew my interest in photography ever since college. But unlike me, he was able to pursue his degree in photography. Eventually, I agreed with the whole thing and that was my first professional job as a photographer. From then on, everything went like a blur.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">After being able to fix my camera, my phone suddenly vibrated. I took it out from my pocket after hanging the camera on my neck. It was from Jim, one of my co-agents before in my former job. I was actually surprised to receive a message from him. It had been quite a while since we communicated after I left but I must admit, Jim was one of my closest friends back when I was in the company.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12.0pt;">Hey Alex! Care to have coffee one of these days, just want to have a chat with my long-lost buddy. Hope you’d be free. Text me up. Ciao!</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 12.0pt;">Sender: Jim Manalastas</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I quickly replied, setting a date a week from now. Well, I would’ve wanted to schedule it as early as possible, but since I’m going to be busy, I need to do some adjustments.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">After the exhibit, Jake and I went to this café which was not far from where the gallery had been setup. It was actually a very familiar place since this was where I usually hangout with my co-agents after work.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">As I stepped inside, the familiar aroma of coffee greeted me. There were not a lot of people during this time so it is quite silent. We scanned the place and found a good space to relax after a very tiring day.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">As I sat on the soft sofa, looking at some of the pictures I shot during the event, two guys entered and sat not far from where we were seated. They were wearing hooded jackets that have the same insignia of the company I once worked for. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Agents, </i>I thought.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The shorter guy took out a stick of cigarette and lit it up. The smoke suddenly filled the air, and as I sniffed the mixture of smoke and coffee, a memory began to enter my head.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">It was almost Christmas that time. You would surely notice the chill in the air and a lot of colorful decorations and Christmas lights had been placed all over the lamp posts and walls everywhere.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I entered the place which we, agents, jokingly call the ‘lung center’. As you may have guessed it, it was the smoking area. Cigarette break had been one of the much awaited breaks for most of us. It was that brief period of freedom from the madhouse. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Since the place was packed, I decided to just go outside the terrace. I leaned over the railing and lit up a stick of cigar as I looked at the full moon. I inhaled deeply and blew smoke as I try to erase from my head the degrading words I got from those dim-witted Brits who can’t distinguish a credit card from a debit card.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Hey there, why are you alone here. Had a rough time?”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I was startled by the voice that came from beside me. I was too preoccupied with my thoughts that I didn’t notice the guy who stood beside me. He took out a cigarette and asked me for my lighter, which I let him borrow. After lighting his death stick, he repeated his question.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Why are you alone? Where are your friends?”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I was a little hesitant answering his question. I don’t know if I’ve met this guy before but since there are hundreds of callcenter agents being hired by the company handling different accounts, it’s really difficult to know everyone. He probably noticed the look of shock and curiosity so he continued talking.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“By the way, I’m Scott, Scott Williams. I’m with the Insurance Group. Don’t think that I’m a stalker or something, I just often see you around here hanging out with your friends most of the time. That is why I’m wondering why you are alone now.”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Scott Williams</span></i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">. Yeah, right. Well, we usually have a different name in this industry. We use it as our identity to hide our being <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pinoy.</i> Well, those idiots just don’t trust us enough, but for me, I knew we’re far intelligent and able than them. I don’t want to look rude or something so I responded.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, hi Scott. I’m James Riley. Nice to meet you. Well, about your question. It’s just too crowded inside. And my friends went to the café nearby. I just want to stay here so I didn’t join them. Not really in the mood to go somewhere. Need to utilize the break.”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh, yeah, 15 minutes… Really not enough to detoxify, huh?”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">We both laughed at the comment. From then on, we started talking every chance we’ve got. It was during one of our conversations that he told me he liked me. He said that the moment he saw me in the lung center, he would usually spot me whenever our breaks would coincide and that he would usually observe me from afar. I was just listening the whole time.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I know I had been a bisexual ever since college, but I don’t shout it out loud to everyone. But I guess our industry is actually infested by people with the same preference. You probably have heard about the increasing number of gays and bisexuals in the callcenter industry. Well, our company is not an exception.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Scott Williams, or legally registered as Peter Soriano was actually gay. But he does not dress like any stereotypical homosexual who wears make-up and high heels to work. He still had that decency to wear stylish clothing which is still suited for a man to be respected. I, on the other hand, do not suggest anything bisexual, but like most of us, he can smell a guy’s “aura” even from afar.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">As much as Peter wanted to hit on me, I never actually gave him a chance to even further his motives. I usually kept my answers short, not meaning to sound rude, but still giving that impression of disinterest and indifference. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">He probably noticed that but he kept silent about it. Well, I knew what he really wanted anyway. I’m not the type of guy who would be too desperate to have a guy with me in bed. He, on the other hand, actually wanted to get the ball rolling with me. He obviously wanted to get between my pants, but I would not let him. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">He began to be more determined to woo me, probably because I posed as a challenge to him, but like a conservative woman, I played hard to get. Not because I want him to suffer, but because I want to know how far he would go just to get me. Actually, I’m starting to feel something for him, but I don’t want to jump headfirst only to find out that I’ll fall directly on concrete floor.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">He was actually sweet and thoughtful, but my closest friends warned me about him. They just strengthened my suspiscion of him only going after my dick and my ass. But as I looked at how he treated me, he’s trying to prove all of us wrong. Is he probably willing to change? Or is he actually just playing it cool?</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">But still, I never gave in. I let my pride and my friends get the best of me. I never did give him a chance to show me how he truly felt and I kept on pushing him away, trying to tell him that there are other guys out there more worhty of being sought. As difficult it is for him as it is for me, I told him to just stop because all his efforts will just go to waste. Of course, Peter didn’t take it lightly, although he can’t do anything but to respect my decision.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Apparently, as days passed, all the rumors revolving around Mr. Scott Williams were true. He started hitting on other guys without even feeling remorse for what happened to us. Although I know it is I who pushed him away, I still think he should’ve at least gave our sort of “relationship” a time to heal. Anyway, I don’t feel anything anymore for him, but I knew I felt something deep within me.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Months passed since my so-called association with Peter and I’m only a few days away before I left the company. I seldom see Peter during breaks so I’m guessing he probably have been reassigned to a different account or maybe a reshuffling had been done. Anyway, that made my life easier, and I don’t think I still need to know if he’s fine, knowing that he’d probably been sleeping with a random guy every chance he got.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I never actually saw Peter again even after the day I left the company. He probably knew I’m leaving since we’ve had some friends in common but I guess he just doesn’t want to see me anymore, after the rejection I had caused him.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I thought I would never see him again after I left, but I was wrong. Just a few days ago before my first exhibit as a professional photographer, I needed to go back to the company because I need to settle something.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">It was a cold Monday morning. As I was sitting on the couch at the lobby of the building, waiting for the HR personnel, the elevator door opened and someone not very familiar, or so it seemed, stepped out. He was wearing a long-sleeved sweat shirt, jogging pants and a cap as he carried with him a brown envelope.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">My gaze met his and I noticed a look of shock in his face, although he quickly managed to smile at me. I smiled back at him as he continued to walk slowly towards the exit. I quickly went back to the company journal that I was reading when all of a sudden, a woman, about my age, came running towards the exit shouting something that made my heart jumped.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Peter Soriano! Wait up! I’ll come with you!”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">My hands began to feel cold as I heard the familiar name. She was actually calling the attention of the guy who just smiled at me awhile back. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Was he the same Peter I know from before? But why is he looking like that? He was so thin and his cheeks were sunken.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I was about to stand and ran outside to see him again but the car carrying the two already left. What I saw and the questions in my head continued to bother me the whole day. That night, I tried calling him using his old number but there was no response. His phone just kept ringing. He probably have changed his number or something. I shook my head and tried to erase the thoughts in my mind as I began to doze off.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I suddenly snapped back to reality as Jake nudged my elbow, trying to ask me if I was okay.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Hey man, are you okay? You’ve been staring into space the whole time. I was just asking if the photos for our next exhibit were already prepared.”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Sorry, something just crossed my mind. Anyway, regarding that, I’m working on it. I was just trying to look for a perfect place to get the inspiration.”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, you better start working on it. A lot of the big names in the industry would be going. You just don’t know, you might make it big.”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Just the thought of it made me excited yet I felt a little anxious. It would really be a big event and if ever, this would be my first-ever major exposure in the world of photography.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Days flew by so quickly without me even noticing it. One day, I received a message from Jim reminding me of our coffee date. I replied to him and we agreed on a specific place and time.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Hey there fella! Lookin’ good!”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Hey Jim! It was nice to see you again. How are you doing? How was the group?”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, we’re fine, although some of us have left and followed suit after your resignation.”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh, is that so? Well, I really don’t see being an agent as a long-term profession. Sooner or later, you know you’ll just get fed up.”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“I know but, oh well, we’re still part of the whole industry. I’m planning to quit too, though I still need to fix my passport and my visa. I’ll be leaving with my parents. We’ll be migrating to the US and probably, I might land a good job there.”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Wow, that’s great Jim. I’m happy for you!”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“That’s one reason why I invited you for coffee. I want you to attend my <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">despedida </i>this coming Saturday, 7PM at our house. Will you be available?”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, let’s see. Hmm… Sure, but I’ll probably be late. I have to meet with some people for my next exhibit. Is that okay?”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Sure thing! As long as you come! Anyway, another reason why I wanted to talk to you is because… Uhm, do you remember Peter? Peter Soriano?”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Not again. Why does someone always remind me of him during the time that I’m trying to forget him? </span></i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Peter Soriano? From the Insurance Group? What about him?” I acted as if I’ve never seen him just a few days ago. To be honest, I just don’t really care.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, he just passed away last Monday.”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I felt like a huge bucket of ice cold water fell down upon me. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Peter? Peter Soriano? Mr. Scott Williams? Dead? On the day that I saw him? How? Why?</i></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Jim probably saw the look on my face so he continued. “You see, just a few weeks before his demise, we started noticing something different from him. He was unusually quiet, and he kept on wearing a cap. Then we saw these odd-colored marks on his skin. We were actually getting a little worried but whenever we ask if he’s okay, he would just nod and smile at us.”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Jim sipped coffee from his mug before continuing. I was looking at him intently, trying to read his eyes. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Is this guy even telling me the truth? He might be just pulling my leg like he usually did back then. But I saw those marks too back when I saw Peter, or am I just hallucinating?</i></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“As the days passed, Peter showed more signs that he is not fine. He lost weight a lot, and he kept on forgetting things. There was also this one time when he almost fell from the steps in front of the building. Then, just one day, he stopped coming to work. The Supervisor kept on calling him but there was no response. A few days after that, we found out the dreadful truth about his condition.”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“AIDS, right? He has the virus…”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yes. As much as I hate to tell you, the plague that had been sporadically spreading amongs the callcenter agents had also caught him. He probably got it from one of his sexual escapades long ago…”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I was looking straight at Jim as the images came flashing back at the back of my mind. Then it finally hit me. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">He probably had the virus ever since the day he was trying to court me. What if I gave in? What if I let my desires get the best of me? I would’ve been like him right now. </i>The thoughts scared the hell out of me.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">After the meeting with Jim, I did something that I haven’t done for years. Something that I should’ve done a long time ago. As I drove my car, I made a quick turn to the left and reached a very familiar infrastructure. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I stepped out of the car and walked towards the entrance. Again, I saw the beautiful frescoes on the walls and ceiling of the building I once grew up visitng with my family. The place was almost deserted if not for some people who were looking dead straight ahead. As I sat in one of the empty pews, looking straight at the huge cross on the altar, tears began to trickle down my cheeks. And all of a sudden, I found myself kneeling down and praying. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">For the longest time, I had been ignoring Him all along. I never did remember him during the my successes but I used to hate Him for my downfalls. Never did I give him credit for all the good things He had done to me. Now, as I looked back, I thank Him for saving my life. And I prayed for the soul of the person who once became a part of my life. Peter, wherever you are right now, I hope that you are okay.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">As it began to rain outside, I silently uttered a prayer, not only for Peter, but for everyone who had been a victim of the virus. May it all be a lesson learned for all of us. Now, as I renew my faith in Him, the rain continued to bless the dry pavements of the metro, while I kept my head bowed down, tears in my eyes, and an awakening which a friend had taught me. Life is a matter of choice. Even when it seems that there is no option, there is always something else that can be done. What happens in our lives is the result of decisions that we make. And regrets will be avoided as along as we make the right decisions.</span></div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-77755061322429694852011-04-14T15:29:00.000+08:002011-06-27T14:08:09.411+08:00Act 24: Disaster<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-PH</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpLRHpX6KTMW7Td4kAgn2JdlcaE93ibCuI0d7bBg84k0SSbl6dXuVbsxa7_qM2DXSMmOFgklQFuSPuFk9nyVbLGub5fSRxt_3Mj4d4KWDdwUhAdG51vKhMM3TjqhS7Cr9YwU8p_Yza3Uu5/s1600/For+blog+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpLRHpX6KTMW7Td4kAgn2JdlcaE93ibCuI0d7bBg84k0SSbl6dXuVbsxa7_qM2DXSMmOFgklQFuSPuFk9nyVbLGub5fSRxt_3Mj4d4KWDdwUhAdG51vKhMM3TjqhS7Cr9YwU8p_Yza3Uu5/s320/For+blog+copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I stared at the laptop in front of me as I waited. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why is time so slow whenever I don’t do anything? </i>I thought to myself as I secretly wished that I could just fast-forward time.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Illuminated on the screen were Excel sheets and tables containing all the information I need in making an analysis on the growth and status of the loan product I’m currently managing. Being in my first official job, I didn’t know that year-end would this be hectic. There are a lot of books to close and transactions to settle, and yet, so little time. It had really been a tiring day for me, and all I wanted was to just go home and relax.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">As I heard the clicking of the laptop keyboard from a nearby office desk, my mobile phone glowed and vibrated on top of my table. Lazily, I grabbed it and checked who sent a message.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">When I was about to open it up, I saw a message just below the unopened one. It was a thread from Alvin, and I could still recall the last few messages from that conversation. It all started a few days ago when I texted him a short “Hello” message.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Hi, may I know who</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Courier;">’</span><span style="font-family: Courier; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">s this?</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Sender: Alvin</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">After receiving that message, something really ticked me off. It was quite sometime since we last texted but I wasn’t expecting that he would all of a sudden forget me. I immediately replied in a sarcastic manner.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Oh, so you already forgot about me? Okay then, just erase my number and pretend that I didn</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Courier;">’</span><span style="font-family: Courier; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">t text you.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I waited for his reply but my mood already got the best of me. I even forgot that I still have an unread message. But my mind was focused on his next reply, which eventually came a after a minute or so.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Hey, don’t get mad. My phone just got reformatted and I don’t have your number here. Would you mind telling me who you are?</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Sender: Alvin</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I was looking at my phone like a madman. The next message even made me furious. Probably because I have had enough experience of those kinds of messages coming from people who can’t tell me directly to get the hell out of their lives so they make up excuses such as I’ve changed my phone or my phone got reformatted. I was too used to those lame statements. But still I replied.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Fyi, I’m Mark and you know who am I. Anyway, you don’t need to make up such dumb excuses if you want me out of your life. Just tell me directly and I would understand.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I was really furious when I pressed send and I almost didn’t bother to even look at his next reply. But obviously, I was able to read it.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Mark, you don’t need to be upset. I’ve had enough drama in my life and I don’t want you to add to that. Fine. I don’t have time for people full of shit in their lives. Good bye!</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Sender: Alvin</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">And that was the last time I’ve heard of him. It all ended just like that. Well, I don’t actually know why it all turned out that way but even before, we already have issues of distance and time. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Ever since, I’ve never actually been a fan of long distance relationships. It’s not that I don’t believe in it, but it just doesn’t really work for me. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">That issue, worsened by schedule conflicts turned the whole thing sour. That probably caused the decrease in frequency of communication between the two of us, and the conversation we just had is all we needed to finally put a stop to an almost budding relationship that had gone terribly wrong.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">But as I think about it now, I really don’t know how thick I can get. Well, it isn’t the fact that I can’t really stand LDRs (long-distance relationships) but the fact that I acted that way made me really ashamed of myself.I didn’t know that I could really be that apathetic and immature.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I should’ve been more mature given that I’m older and should’ve been much wiser and more understanding, but they probably are correct when they said that it is not really in the age.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I knew I had been mature in a lot of times and in a thousand circumstances, but when it comes to love, I really become stupid and dumb. I really don’t have a lot of problems dealing with other people, may it be about work or about play, but when it comes to dealing with the people I love and care about, all that maturity were thrown out the window. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I tend to follow my heart more than my head, or the other way around. The balance was gone and at the end of it all, I find myself wondering whether I’ve made the right decision. Or should I say, mature decision.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">There are a lot of things I knew I cannot control, but I know I could’ve done something about it. This again reminded me of the first huge conflict that I had with Gian. That was when I realized that he probably was falling for a girl friend of mine which in turn led to issues between me and him.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">After our serious talk one evening, I knew something changed between me and Gian. Like there was friction whenever we were together, and most especially when we were with Danny.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">But unlike before, Gian also tried to keep a distance away from Danny as possible. And whenever they need to converse, he made sure it is just a short conversation and nothing would be personal. I noticed that and I knew that it’s his way of saying sorry.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Gian has always been open to me about his feelings. But this time, there’s probably that sense of shame that he felt after our conversation about him falling for a girl. I wouldn’t actually blame him. He’s still a guy.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">No matter how I try to make myself believe that Gian will forever be gay, I can never erase the fact that he could actually turn out to still be falling for the opposite sex. The principal rule of ‘sex is fluid’ started to reverberate in my head as I thought about it.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Stopping Gian from his feelings towards girls would surely make that principle, which I ferevently believed in for the longest time, slap me right in the face. But this thought never really made me comfortable. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why is it easier to accept rules as long as they don’t apply to you? </i>I would often ask myself. But this was one of the things I knew I cannot control. It’s his feelings, not mine, and I knew perfectly well where I should stand.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">A week had past and Gian finally talked to me about the issue. Apparently, he realized that he was never into Danny, or to any other girls for that matter. He was gay and that was it. No questions asked.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">He even joked that his RJ (RJ was the nickname we call his penis. It was actually the opposite of JR from junior which what we call mine) only gets hard for me. That remark, coming from him made me smile. Not only because it was just a joke but also because it meant a lot to me.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Coincidentally, right after knowing that Gian clearly doesn’t have any romantic feelings for Danny, the latter also tried one time to bring up the topic with me. Apparently, there were really no GiNny love affair happening behind my back. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Danny doesn’t really have any feelings for Gian for she totally loves Vic. And if ever she was single, she assured me that I’ll be the first one to know if they become a couple. Too bad for Danny, she doesn’t know that Gian would never ever have feelings for her. But I’m glad the dilemma fixed itself for me.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Another reason for me to really breathe a deep sigh of relief.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">After all the drama that transpired between the three of us (which Danny, apparently was unaware of), we were able to continue working together in harmony. No hidden motives, no hidden feelings. Just pure, professional work. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">The day for the defense of our thesis was just three days away and we were all in our emotional extremes. The tension was really high that I had been always in an argument with my other thesis mates.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Being the devil’s advocate, I had always been trying to bring up possible holes to the study and I end up fighting with either one or two of my groupmates because they wanted me to just shut my pie hole. But afterwards, as we all calm down, they would soon realize that what I was doing is beneficial for our team, esp. when the real defense happens.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">It will prepare us for possible questions that would arise during the presentation which we must be able to address properly. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">As the hours tick, the more we became anxious because we still need to finish a lot of things and our presentation was not yet even polished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of the possible questions we thought about were still unanswered and we can’t even find it anywhere we look.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Apparently, Gian was able to provide light to some of our issues. That’s what’s really good about having a non-technical person in hand. He was able to give us insights from an external perspective. We were too much ingrained with the technical, not knowing that we can approach issues on a more casual and less complicated manner.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">This was the time when I wasn’t able to give Gian the right treatment. This was the time when I would’ve wished I could just turn back the hands of time and make sure that he was properly taken care. And this is where I totally blew it. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">The height of emotional tension and overall pressure made me extremely moody and I knew Gian had been my emotional sponge, taking everything in. Aside from the fact that I am moodier than ever, I also began to act like a 4-year-old.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I didn’t mean any of those things to happen though, but it still happened right before my very eyes. I’ve said harsh things to him and I knew I couldn’t anymore take those things back. But Gian kept silent all along. I never heard him complain nor get angry at me. He understood me, more than anyone else.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I would’ve wished I had shown him enough appreciation that time. I would’ve wished I could’ve said all the nice things I should’ve said for being my shock-absorber, but I never did. Nor did I even try. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I was too engulfed with the thought that this big event in my life would make or break my future. I had been too insensitive and too selfish that I wasn’t anymore thinking that we are a couple; that we should care for each other despite the fact that we also care about other things.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Then the dreaded day of judgment came. And due to some twist of fate and unimaginable lack of luck, we were the ones who will defend first, out of all the 13 groups that would present. And we weren’t even finish with our visual presentation.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">We woke up early and that day to prepare for we still have to do a lot of things. Talking about cramming here. And as ridiculous as it sounds, we still need to go to a seminar for graduating students in the morning. How inauspicious could it get?</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Anyway, we still went even though it was really raining hard outside. So there we were, all four of us, in our corporate attire, drenched in rainwater, trying to get into the seminar venue.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">While we were at the seminar, my mind was not totally on what the lady speaker was trying to say. All I knew is that I need to finish this presentation before noon, when our defense would take place.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">We decided not to finish the whole thing since we already signed the attendance sheet. So we went out sneakily and we hailed a cab to the venue of our defense. The rain was still pouring hard and traffic jam had started. We didn’t know that something’s about to happen that fateful day,</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">By the looks of it, we will only have probably an hour to get everything done. But still, we were hopeful. Disaster is the last thing we wished we’d experience.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Then my phone beeped. It was Karen, one of my colleagues and also one of the presentors. Their group was going to defend after ours. He was asking me if our defense will push through. It was flooded already in their place and the traffic was in a parking lot condition (all cars were stuck and not moving).</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">An idea suddenly popped into my head. If it’s going to be the case for all students, then our professor might probably cancel the whole thing. As evil as it sounded, I really wished that the downpour would continue and even get harder so that our defense would be cancelled.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">When I was young, I really am that selfish, trying to wish that the rain would get hard so that classes would be suspended. And this is not a different case.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I would’ve both hated the rain for making everything so difficult but at the back of my head, I’m thanking it for actually making things difficult for everyone, as long as it is to my favor. Really, how evil could I get?</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">When we arrived at the building, we were all in a rush towards the third floor and since our professor is not yet informing us of the suspension of the presentation, we need to hurry and finish everything just in case. Now, I’m starting to hate the rain even more.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">And as soon as we reached the floor, we immediately looked for a place where we could do the dirty work. We were all busy finishing things that I wasn’t able to notice the messages that came to my phone.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">After finally putting the finishing touches to the visual presentation, we can all finally breathe. We can say that we are ready, even if the nerves started to kick in as the time ticked away.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I was about to check my phone for new messages, our professor appeared in the hallway and saw us.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Oh! You’re all there! You’re the first group to present right? Didn’t you receive my message?”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">We all looked at each other, clueless.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“I just sent a text brigade to all of you informing that the presentation would be cancelled. The typhoon is getting worse so I decided to just cancel it. So there. You can still have more time to prepare.” He smiled at us and then he left, just like that.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">We were all still shocked at what he just said. After all the catastrophes we’ve been through, we’ll just find out that the class had been suspended. I didn’t know whether to be happy or sad with the news, but what can we do. We just need to accept the fact that my wishes came true, only that it happened late.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I was finally able to check my messages and there it was, the message that my professor sent. All the others came from other classmates forwarding the same message to everyone concerned. Karen also told me about it and that the typhoon already hit Manila.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">That was actually the tragic day when Super Typhoon Ondoy hit Metro Manila and other provinces. A very fateful day indeed.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">We were stuck in school for hours, with no food. Thank God that we still have electricity in the vicinity and that we were in a very high place. We were not aware that the typhoon had already destroyed infrastructures and had killed hundreds of lives. All we were concerned about that time was how we could get home safely and how we could eat.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">That was really one of my most unforgettable experience as a student who was about to graduate. I still remembered when Danny and I conquered the rain with a frail umbrella which actually eventually got destroyed by the strong winds and strong downpour.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">We were trying to look for a place where we could buy food because we were all hungry. Rina decided to just stay in our classroom for she’s too weak to go out. Charm on the other hand went home for she just lives nearby.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Those were the days of total mayhem and distraught. But fortunately, we were able to survive it. Although I got depressed once I learned the true nature of the storm and how it devastated the country.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Now that I think about it, my relationship with Gian is also starting to be hit by a tropical storm; an unforeseen disaster waiting to happen. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">And as I looked back, there were a lot of things I wasn’t able to control, but I wish I could’ve. But at the end of it all, never did I imagine that this storm would ultimately lead to the death of two souls which would’ve been saved if the older person tried to warn the other of a perilous path ahead.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Now, as I sat on my office desk, only a few minutes before I can go home, I checked the remaining unread messages on my phone, and it was from one of the characters in my past. Someone I had never expected would reconnect with me.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Hello baby bro! I hope you still remember me! Musta ka na? Pwede ba tayong magkita?</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Sender: Kuya BJ</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">[Picture taken from: http://joyfulchristians.com/chs/ondoy/]</span></span> </span></div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-75447609272777206022011-03-31T21:03:00.000+08:002011-06-27T14:08:53.836+08:00The Wedding<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-PH</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7NAAebZS_PM1tdROaeu96RRm441BzVKOA1gaxELSyRWjNNtxxT_FzM5rF7GgizYYvYYDr0s1ryKW1nqjzdsgftq8lzWo2sxx5d89IsBQawILkz5JgjmrkqwgrA7OcV240y4z53t9g1FA/s1600/wedding-rings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7NAAebZS_PM1tdROaeu96RRm441BzVKOA1gaxELSyRWjNNtxxT_FzM5rF7GgizYYvYYDr0s1ryKW1nqjzdsgftq8lzWo2sxx5d89IsBQawILkz5JgjmrkqwgrA7OcV240y4z53t9g1FA/s320/wedding-rings.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Hey Anthony, c’mon! The wedding’s about to start!”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“I’m coming.” I shouted as I took a last look at myself on the mirror. I fixed my collar and followed Richard to the car.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“How time flies…” Richard murmured. I acted as if I hadn’t heard him.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“One day, we were just about to graduate from high school, and the next thing we know, one of us is already getting married.” I continued to look at the window as Richard became a little emotional.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He was correct. How quickly things had unfolded. Gerry, my best friend, is finally tying the knot. As I look back, I still remember how the three of us met. It was so long ago but it was as if they just happened yesterday.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Richard and I had been childhood friends for as long as I could remember. And we became friends out of misery. I would’ve liked to use a lighter term for it but during that time, we were really both experiencing a dreadful situation for a grade school student: we were about to flunk math. When we found out that math is our waterloo, we became close since then, trying to console each other whenever one of us got a failing grade. And as a sign of our friendship, I bought the two of us a friendship band which we could wear on our wrists.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Then came Gerry. Gerry was a transfer student from the province. But unlike any other person who came from the province, he doesn’t look like a typical rural dweller. He was fair-skinned and for a kid his age, his body was quite developed than most of us. We just started high school back then so most of us were still trapped in a boy’s body, although I must admit that our constant playing of basketball had developed my muscles and Richard’s.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Gerry was admitted a few weeks after the class had started so he was a little behind the lessons. Being top of the class, believe it or not, Richard was assigned to be the study partner of Gerry, and since we were already study partners, the three of us became a trio, and fortunately, our teacher agreed with the setup.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Courtesy aside, I was not far from being a top-lister myself. Our partnership must’ve been effective and our drive made the two of us the first and second placers in class. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">We would often joke about it and Gerry still couldn’t believe that the two people who had always been failing math during grade school had become the top students of the batch. Well, it is not really easy to believe because up until now, I and Richard would still wonder how we were able to do it.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">So, that was how our friendship had started. Richard, Gerry and Me. The unbeatable trio, most of our classmates would call us. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Gerry had also been quite an intelligent student as well. He was able to catch up quickly and the next thing we know, he was able to place third on the list of top students of our class. Most of our classmates envy us for being the top students in our school, and this popularity cannot be denied specially among the ladies.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Being a guy trio, I must admit that we had been sort of popular among the girls. Gerry, being the star varsity player of swimming and Richard being the MVP of our basketball team, they had been eyed by a lot of the girls, either from the lower or upper batches. I, on the other hand, was not that athletic. I focused more on the academic side, being the representative of our school in quiz bees, and the like. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">But even though I drown myself in reading in studying, I was never the geeky or the nerdy type. I wore my glasses in a fashionable way which still grabbed the attention of some girls. I wore my clothes like a fashion model and I go to the gym to keep myself fit. I secretly enjoyed being the silent and myterious type among the three of us.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Those were the glory days. We never actually planned everything. Things just took its course during high school and I’m pretty sure that we will never forget those days.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">But as I looked back, I still remember the things that had been my deepest and darkest secrets. Memories that I’d rather keep hidden.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Well, as we were growing up, I felt different. I felt a little peculiar among my peers, most specially among us three. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Unlike Gerry and Richard, I felt a little awkward being surrounded by girls and all. I felt a little distant. It was as if I’d rather be in the company of my two best friends rather than be mobbed by female admirers.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Whenever we three were talking, most of the time, it would shift towards girls. Anthony would tell us how some of the girls from the lower batch would give him gifts and how he particularly liked the one is glasses. Then, Gerry would butt in and tell his own affairs with the opposite sex.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">During those times, I would just keep silent and act as if I’m not listening, or I would open a book and pretend to read. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">They would often nudge me and ask me to spill my own experiences with girls but I would just play deaf. Sometimes, they would even call me a killjoy and just continue sharing their own escapades.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I actually felt a little scared with the thought of me not being interested with girls. Sometimes, I would try to flirt with some admirers but that was all there is to it. I never became intimate with the opposite sex, nor have I been acting on my attraction towards them. I just felt weird and awkward being with girls.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Then, there was this one time, after swimming practice, I waited for Gerry in the bleachers alone since Richard left early for he was going to have a date with some random girl from school.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">While I was waiting, I can’t help but stare at the guys in swimming trunks. I was actually enjoying the view, most specially when I look at Gerry’s. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He really has a well-built body as compared to some of them who have baby fats and all. His body was lightly muscular and fit and you can really see the curves of his upper torso. And the line on his shoulder girdle was so prominent which made him manlier and more mascular. I was even mesmerized by the line on his pelvic area going to the crotch. God, I swear something stirred inside my pants.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I was in that state of admiration when I didn’t notice that Gerry was already looking at me and waving his hand. I immediately was brought back to earth and I waved back as quickly as I could. I shook my head and tried to erase the thoughts from my mind.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">That night, I was lying on my bed and the images of the guys and of Gerry kept playing on my head like an unending flick. And all of a sudden, I didn’t notice that something between my legs started to pound. And I did the unthinkable that evening. I satisfied myself with the images of my almost nude best friend.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">After that, I had been secretly eyeing on Gerry every chance that I got. And during these times, Richard would bid us good bye for he would meet probably another random girl. For me, Richard was the most <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">chickboy </i>among the three of us. He would often date a different girl everytime and he would tell us stories about how their date had gone.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">But this was actually good enough for me because I could have an alone time with Gerry.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He was really such a nice guy. Sometimes, he would buy food for me whenever we study together. Or he would check whether my back had been wet from the heat as I enter the classroom. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He did little things that really made my heart flutter in the most unexplainable way. And whenever Gerry is with another girl, I also felt this anger inside me that I would just want to snatch him away from the arms of this casual bitch who probably had a crush on him.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Then it suddently dawned on me, the questions that I had always been evading ever since I felt this strange feeling. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Am I gay? Am I falling for my best friend?</i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The thought scared the hell out of me. But still, everytime I’m with Gerry, I would sense the feeling of longing for the person I am falling in love with. It was like he was just very near yet he was so unreachable. I felt like an ordinary person who wants to have a piece of heaven by trying to reach for the stars but no matter how near they look, I can never ever touch them.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Then, came graduation. All of us had been set to going to a particular college or university. Most of us were able to land on our favorite school campus, but some were not that fortunate. Lucky for the three of us, we were able to go to our chosen school. Probably being the top of the class has had its perks. Richard who graduated Valedictorian will go to the same state university as I am, who graduated Salutatorian. Gerry, on the other hand, coming in as 1<sup>st</sup> Honorable Mention was able to enter a prominent private school in Manila.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">All of us were kind of jovial during the ceremony, but I felt a little sadness due to the fact that our trio would need to part ways. But most specially, I felt sad because I won’t probably see Gerry anymore; the only person who taught me how to love.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Gerry apparently noticed my silence while everyone was taking pictures of themselves along with their peers and their cliques.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Hey Anthony! What seems to be the problem. Why are you alone here?” Gerry asked me.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Hey. I was just a little tired and all. And I just felt lonely, that we need to go our own separate ways.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Aww, Anthony, don’t be sad. At least you were with Richard. And now that I think about it, I’m going to be alone in the university, it made me sad too…” I sensed the loneliness in Gerry’s voice as the realization eventually hit him.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Gerry, I need to tell you something. I know this might ruin our relationship as best friends but I need to tell you this, at least even before we separate. You know, there’s a big chance that we might not see each other anymore, but I just want to…”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Hey guys! What’s up? Isn’t it great? We are now about to enter another stage in our lives! College!!!”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I wasn’t able to continue what I need to say. Richard apparently appeared in the picture when I was about to tell Gerry how I truly feel for him.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Wait, Anthony has something to say.” Gerry cut Richard’s drama as they both looked at me intently, trying to wait for what I have to say.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Damn, this wasn’t how I planned it. This wasn’t how I imagined it. I was about to confess only to Gerry and now, my two best friends are right in front of me waiting for my confession.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“I… Uhm… I… I love you both guys, I really do. I hope our college lives would be as colorful as our high school!” I said trying to hold back the tears. I don’t have the courage to tell it. I’m a coward.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Richard and Gerry smiled and the former place both his hand on our shoulders and tapped us to go towards the others.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">As the two of them joined our other batchmates, that was the only time that tears started to flow from my eyes. Gerry, all of a sudden, looked back at me, smiling and I mouthed the words, I love you, but he can’t seem to understand. I just smiled at him with tears flowing down my cheeks. He gestured for me to join them and I gave in. That was one of the most unforgettable moments of my life.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Hey man, are you alright?” I was awoken from my daydream as Richard tapped my elbow with his.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Yeah, I’m fine.” I said, giving him a weak smile.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">As the car came to a halt, I saw how beautiful the church was. It was like a scene from a television show. And there I saw him, standing by the entrance of the church, wearing a nice suit. He looked older than when I remembered him. But still, his gaze and smile still gave me that certain feeling of nervousness. He still looked very handsome.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">My heart started to beat faster as I alighted the car. And he came running towards me. Then, the unexpected happened. He hugged me. From the moment, I felt like fainting. I know I’m the Best Man, but <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>felt more like the bride. I would’ve wished I had been the one going to marry this guy.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He broke the embrace and thanked us for coming. I tried to maintain my composure and tapped his shoulder as I smiled back at him.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The wedding ceremony was such a very serene and romantic event. As the bride walked along the red carpet, I felt a little envious yet I am happy for the both of them.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">She was a very beautiful woman. Her smile was captivating. The two of them were a match made in heaven.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The ceremony went well and we all headed towards the reception area. Richard was with me the whole time. His arm over my shoulder.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">We sat next to each other and the whole after-wedding rituals started.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">We were all laughing at the same time as the women tried to catch the bouquet of flowers. I told Richard that I’ll just go to the comfort room.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">As I was heading to the rest room, someone called my name. It was a familiar voice. It was Gerry.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Anthony!”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Hey Gerry. Such a lovely bride! You really have such good taste. Unlike our best friend there.” I looked at Richard who was eating. To be honest, Richard really never had a good taste in terms of girls. Although he dated a lot of them, they don’t look as good looking as someone whom he should really be dating, given his caliber.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">We both laughed at my comment, just to ease the tension. But I never expected the next things that would unfold.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Well, it had been such a long time. We were still young back then. Playful, very much popular with the girls and all.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Yeah, I remember. You two were the crowd-pleasers. Whenever there’s a bunch of women and, well, men too, I know that one of you is in the middle. Haha”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“That was then. When we entered college, I wanted to be serious with my life. Playing around was really not my thing. That’s when I met her.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I looked at the bride chatting with her girl friends. “Yeah, she seemed to be the nice fit for you.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I turned to look at him and smiled. But he gave me a serious expression. Something that I did not expect.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“You see, ever since we graduated from high school, I’ve been haunted by the memory of you telling me something.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">There were goosebumps all over my body as I heard him bring back that memory.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“I…” But Gerry stopped me from speaking.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“You see, I felt like you still have something to say that night. Something that you’ve been keeping from me all those time. And I knew that you were a little hesitant when Richard came.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Gerry… I… I never thought that this day would come… Never in my wildest dreams that I can finally confess to you how I truly felt. All those times you’ve been treating me nicely. The little things that you do for me. Gerry, I cherished and treasured all those times… Those times when I;m alone with you. You taught me one thing. You taught me how to… How to love… Yes, I’m in love with you Gerry. Ever since that day in the bleachers. I know I had been weird ever since, but I never thought that of all people, I would fall in love with you… My best friend…”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Tears were starting well up in my eyes. Then I heard the most impossible thing.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“I do, too. Yes, I felt the same towards you Anthony. But I was afraid that you don’t feel the same way towards me. I know Richard had been your first ever best friend and I know I cannot live up to him. But everytime I’m with you, I just can’t help but take care of you. I felt like I need to protect you from harm. You seemed so fragile, yet so precious. Never did I imagine that I’m already falling for you in the process. That night, I was hoping that you would tell me that you love me. I was hoping you would reciprocate what I felt for you. But when Richard came…”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Gerry… I…” Tears are now cascading nonstop. I can’t believe what I was hearing.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“I lost all hope Anthony. I did… If only you told me that night. It would’ve been this way. I would’ve fought for you. But Sophie came into my life and accepted me for who I am…”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there in front of him, as stiff as a rock. I felt like freezing cold <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>water had been thrown upon me.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“I’m sorry Anthony… I’m sorry… I love her very much. But I love you too…” Gerry hugged me tight but I can’t seem to hug him back.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I left him standing there, crying, as I walked towards the rest room. I can’t feel anything and I don’t see where I’m going. The things I just heard were so heavy for me. And as I entered the comfort room, and stared at myself on the mirror, that’s when I really cried.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Days passed since Gerry’s wedding. Everything went back to normal. I tried to erase everything that happened from my head but I’m still not ready to face Gerry nor talk to him yet. I knew only time can tell.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Then, one day, I received a bouquet of flowers from a stranger. There was just a small note saying “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hey there! I hope you’re doing fine. - Mr. Past”</i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The moment I read Mr. Past from the note, I knew it was from Gerry. I felt a little angry so I threw the flowers in the trash.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The next morning, I received a box of chocolates. The note that came with it said “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Please smile! –Mr. Past</i>” I tried looking around, wondering if he was there, but there was no Gerry. I just gave it away to my staff. Never will I get something from him. Not at this moment.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Then the day after that, there was nothing on my table aside from a small note saying “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Meet me at the park later at 6pm. You know where it is. I’ll be waiting. –Mr. Past”</i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I pondered at the thought of meeting Gerry again. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Am I ready? But I should be mature enough. And he’s married for God’s sake. This should stop now. And if it meant that I need to meet him to tell him to stop, I must do it.</i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The least of the things that I would do is to ruin a marriage so I decided to come. I don’t know what will happen, or how nasty it would be, but I should do it. I am the only one who could do it.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The rest of the day was a blur. I was just thinking about our meeting at the park. I tried making up a my monologue in my head, trying to ask him to stop doing what he was doing. Never would I want to be a mistress. Just by thinking about it made me vommit. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The time went by quickly. It was already half past 5. I need to prepare myself. When I was about to leave the office, I looked at the note on the table and observed it. The handwriting was familiar, although I’m not sure if it was Gerry’s. I’m not sure if a person’s handwriting could change over time.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I tried to breathe deeply and just go do what I got to do. As I arrived at the park which was quite near my workplace, I scanned the place for Gerry. Most of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the benches were already occupied but I saw one near a tree so I went there to sit.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I looked at my watch and it was already 5 minutes past 6. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">He’s probably late</i>, I thought to myself.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Then, a hand was placed on my right shoulder. I almost jumped in shock. And when I looked at the person, I blinked my eyes in disbelief.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">A familiar man, about my height and built was standing in front of me. It was Richard.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Jesus man! You scared the hell out of me!” I shook my head.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Sorry Anthony, I didn’t mean to.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“What are you dong here anyway?” I eyed him intently.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Uhm, I… I was about to meet a special friend here.” Richard said, trying to avoid my stare.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Really now, special friend huh? One of you flavor of the month? Or week?” I giggled as I looked at him.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“No! Nothing like that! I’m really going to meet the person whom made my heart flutter everytime.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Hmm, wait, was it Shirley, the girl with curly hair? Or was it Tina, the freckled receptionist? Or…”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I kept on mentioning names of girls which Richard had dated before until he placed his finger on my mouth to shut me up.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“No. None of them. I’m meeting someone more special than them. The person whom I felt something more real, something more genuine than all of those I’ve tried dating.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tried dating? What did he mean by that? </i>I felt a little anxious at what he was about to say, but it came sooner than I expected.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“I’ll be meeting the person who gave me this…” Richard pulled something out of his pocket. It was the friendship band I gave him ever since grade school. He kept it. He kept it for the longest time.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Richard…? The flowers? The chocolates? The notes? It was you all along? Mr. Past…”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Richard looked at me and nodded silently.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“You kept it… The friendship band… I thought you lost it or you threw it away… I never saw you wore it since the day I gave it to you.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Yes. The day you gave it to me. I kept it inside a box. I don’t want it to get dirty or to get damaged. And every night, I would open the box and tell this band all the things I wanted and should’ve said to you since the day we met. I liked you Anthony, ever since. I tried to hold back my feelings for you because I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I knew that the right time will come for me to confess my true feelings for you. But then, Gerry came into the picture, and all my plans went to waste. I tried dating other girls, just to forget. Just to erase you from my head. But everytime I try to remove you from my head, the more you lingered. I did everything for you to notice me. For you to see me in a different light. I joined the basketball team and made sure I get MVP because I know you admired Gerry for being a good swimmer. But still, it wasn’t enough.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Richard kept on saying things which I never imagined I would hear from him. Tears are starting to well from my eyes as things become clearer.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“I dated any girl I see, no matter how ugly as long as they liked me, hoping that I could change what I felt for you. But everything failed. I tried to avoid you guys everytime you were together. I tried making excuses that I have a date because I can’t stand the fact that it was Gerry you like and not me. You thought I didn’t know, but you were wrong. The way you look at him in class, the way you stare at him during their training. Those actions gave you away. For you, I only existed as a friend, and nothing more. And it really hurt me. When we graduated from high school, I was really happy because Gerry would soon be out of the picture. And we would be together in the same school. I thought it would work out, but no. You kept on talking about him even if he was not around. I was really devastated. I almost gave up on you… I thought to myself that it was already too much of a heartache. When we graduated from college, I decided to just let you go. I can always be your best friend, and I accepted the fact that I can never be more than that. Even if it killed me inside. Just to make you happy, I’m willing to step aside. But when I found out that Gerry is getting married, that little glimmer of hope started to glow brighter again. And I saw what happened during the wedding. I stood up to go to the CR and I saw the two of you and overheard everything.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Richard… I can’t believe this…” I was too shocked to continue.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“You don’t need to say anything. I knew what happened was too much for you to take. I knew this is not the right time for me to do all these, but I got afraid that if I let this chance pass again, I might not be able to tell you how I really feel for you. But you don’t need to respond. I’m more than contented telling you how I feel. I’m not expecting anything. I just want to free myself from the thing that had been bugging me for the longest time. I need to release these emotions that I kept all these years. I just want you to know Anthony that no matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you. I’ll never leave you…”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">And with Richard’s words, he hugged me tightly as I felt those warm tears against my skin. For the first time in years, I felt like I’m not alone. And for the first time, I let go. The park disappeared right in front of me. I closed my eyes and hugged him back. I hugged him tightly not wanting to let go. And for the first time, I’ve felt the love I’ve been yearning for, all these years.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">-The End-</div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-69702097996118339492011-03-18T12:04:00.000+08:002011-06-27T14:08:53.837+08:00For Eternity<div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Wl1yAQiGqLljl22nnbMUkNfBIAJURBUokrI8THZMneFgG4puqSNizNYctd_OX9c22SPoIbCQo4hPv22X8tQf3B-4-Ec2u3m1KjEafJAc8F7lDQfrHBdDNjCzFoJQiO8V-ONM-l8FESn2/s1600/0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Wl1yAQiGqLljl22nnbMUkNfBIAJURBUokrI8THZMneFgG4puqSNizNYctd_OX9c22SPoIbCQo4hPv22X8tQf3B-4-Ec2u3m1KjEafJAc8F7lDQfrHBdDNjCzFoJQiO8V-ONM-l8FESn2/s320/0.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">You lifted those hands as I saw you<br />
You tried to wave goodbye in the blue<br />
Tears fell down my eyes you see<br />
And my vision was blurred by the truth<br />
<br />
The truth of your goodbye had hit me<br />
The truth in which I came to see<br />
Tears again fell down my eyes<br />
And tried to hide the pain I feel inside<br />
<br />
I felt inside a deeper longing<br />
I felt inside the pain revolving<br />
Tears I hope would soon subside<br />
And hope you would soon be by my side<br />
<br />
By my side I know you will rest<br />
By my side I know it's just a test<br />
Tears I know would come again<br />
And lift me back what is with me then<br />
<br />
With me then the world evolves<br />
With me then our story unfolds<br />
Tears are just traces of a memory<br />
And will be cherished for eternity<br />
<br />
For eternity we'll soon be together<br />
For eternity we'll transcend forever<br />
Tears will just be part of the past<br />
And the sweetest smile will finally last</div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-18392773300902365902011-03-15T19:41:00.000+08:002011-06-27T14:08:53.838+08:00Paradise<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-PH</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4pyCcxIO7ieHQeEGeBbuA4xKfjLZilsHxH5uol7seUPRuoBowfzSefmLHiFZxZtCm2Xw8mffeFf-5aZ_dxJZWZZ0JFqLWZHmTscFHA7e-2oXfg_HGkmOoazUXN3CrblirBEJokVRy4CaV/s1600/Nature_Beach_Paradise_Beach_011272_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4pyCcxIO7ieHQeEGeBbuA4xKfjLZilsHxH5uol7seUPRuoBowfzSefmLHiFZxZtCm2Xw8mffeFf-5aZ_dxJZWZZ0JFqLWZHmTscFHA7e-2oXfg_HGkmOoazUXN3CrblirBEJokVRy4CaV/s320/Nature_Beach_Paradise_Beach_011272_.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The sun’s rays directly hit me as my feet stepped on the white sand. It was almost Summer. You would feel the heat of the sun burn the huge rocks that lie silently as the waves hit the shore. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The beach tried to mesmerize me, to invite me for a swim. I stood there beside the boat, looking directly on the vast horizon. It was so beautiful. Too bad I can’t see how beautiful it was. It brings me a painful memory. But I wished to believe that I’m strong enough. Strong enough to let go of the past, embrace the present and anticipate the future. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I don’t even know why I’m here, what I’m doing in this magnificent paradise which was known to be the place for couples in love. But I’m not here because I’m with someone, nor I’m in love. I’m here to find myself. I’m here to forget.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">As soon as we got settled, my friends immediately got into their swim wear and head directly to the beach. I, on the other hand, stayed on the veranda of our cottage and just looked at them bask under the heat.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">They tried to coax me to swim with them and enjoy this piece of paradise, but I just flashed them a weak smile and told them I want to be alone. Talking about being a kill joy. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I grabbed the nearest chair and sat, still watching the scenery. Everything that I saw just reminded me of him. The guy whom I share the passion for traveling. The guy who once told me that he’ll be with me anywhere he goes and whom I drew my future with.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I wish I could enjoy this place. It was one of the places in the list. Yes, the list that I made with Gelo. It was one of the places we once dreamt of visiting. Too bad he wasn’t with me now. He wasn’t anymore with me.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I tried hard to suppress my emotions and divert my attention to other things, but anywhere I looked, all I see is the image of two people romantically together. I can’t erase the thought of Gelo in my mind. And I hate it. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Why is it difficult to erase from your mind the memory of the people who never stayed with you? Was it because our brains naturally remember things that may seem unforgettable? Or was it because we chose to keep there? I would like to think otherwise, but everytime I do, I can’t think of any other reason why it was like that.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Gelo was the guy I first fell in love with. Not because he was rich, nor because he was handsome. It was because of all the guys I had been with, he was the most real. His sincerity falls above expectations and this kind of guy, I would usually say, is already too good to be true. Well, I should’ve known better.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">It was the same setting. The beach. I was with some friends, and I was still with him. We were having bonfire that evening and we were grilling some seafood as we exchanged stories. I was having a few laughs with my clique when I noticed that Gelo wasn’t around. I tried to look for him, until I decided to check our cottage.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I was about a few meters away when I heard some sound. It wasn’t that clear but I can hear it. It sounded like two people doing something. My heart skipped a beat.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">As I drew nearer and nearer, my heart pounded even more as I heard familiar voices. Could be him? I got afraid, but I still went, hoping that my imagination is just fooling me.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I stood up in front of the door and opened it. There I saw two naked bodies, on top of the bed, wildly enjoying each other’s flesh. I can’t believe what I saw. It was Angelo, along with my best friend Nathan. Tears started to flow from my eyes and I tried to wipe it. I don’t want them to see me cry.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">From that day on, I decided to never fall in love. It was too painful for me to accept that the two people I cared for and I loved had also started loving each other behind my back. I would’ve had recovered easily if only Gelo had an affair with some other random guy. But it was Nathan. It was my best friend since high school for God’s sake.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The wind brushed my naked torso as it brought me back to the present. A lot of things started to enter my mind a few days after the incident. I tried to go out a lot. Party a lot. Drink a lot. I dated different people, male, female, rich, poor. I didn’t care. All I know is that I’m numb. I don’t anymore feel anything. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Every night, I would have sex with different people and I would lie next to a stranger without thinking what tomorrow would bring. That was how I started to view life. I would satisfy all my carnal pleasures without falling in love. No emotional attachments. No strings attached.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Whoever I thought would be attractive or would grab my attention would surely be hit. I was like a predator for sex. And everyone could be my prey. My victim. Anyway, that was how the world works. It’s a dog eats dog world. You wouldn’t be a victim as long as you keep up. Exploit others first before they could exploit you. That was how my life had been.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">My friends started to get worried about me but I ignored them. They tried to put me back on the right track but I was too drowned in my own world, in my insane little world of alcohol and sex.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Then one day, I woke up naked, beside three naked guys I barely even know. Then all of a sudden, I felt this warm and wet substance slide down my cheeks. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">That night for the first time, I cried. I cried and cried until there was no more left in me. I thought I would never feel emotions for the longest time, but that night, I felt pity. Pity for myself. For the things I’ve done. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I tried to take a bath and rubbed myself with soap until my skin almost bled. I wanted to wash away all the pain, the suffering, but I can’t. I felt dirty. I felt like a whore.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">That’s when I had been saved. My friends, no matter what I did to myself, were still there for me. And I’m glad they stayed. They let me realize that no matter how painful an experience is, you will always have your friends with you when you needed them. They were like a family to me. I had fallen down once, twice, a lot of times, but they never left me. They just gave me space to think about my life. And for that I’m thankful.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Now, as I sat here in this cottage, I know I would like to start a new. As I watch my friends play around like innocent little kids, I wished I could take back everything that I’ve done in the past.<span> </span>I certainly wished I could turn back the hands of time and reverse all the bad things that had happened. I wish it was as simple as clicking undo in the computer.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">But it all happened. I can’t do anything about it. All I can do now is to change. Revert back to my original self. I used to blame Gelo and Nathan for what had happened to me. But I was wrong. It was all my fault. I was the one who chose to live that kind of life. Now, it’s my turn to redeem myself from that lifestyle, I want to do it for myself. And through this, I would be able to start a new chapter of my life.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Hey!”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">My mind was floating when someone called me.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Hey there! Why are you alone?”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">It was a voice from below. I tried to looked down and I saw a guy wearing what looked like a wetsuit.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Hey.” I said.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“The sun is smiling at us, why the face?” The guy in wetsuit said, smiling at me.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">He was about 5’9 in height and has a lean body. I wished I could describe him more but I guess I was blinded by my instincts. I felt somethimg different towards the guy. I knew something’s about to happen.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Sorry. Was just thinking of something. Were you from around here?” I curiously asked.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Yes. And I bet you’re here as a tourist. If you don’t mind, let’s swim!”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The guy’s smile was just so inviting that I can’t seem to say no. I smiled back and went down our cottage.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“By the way, I’m Hans. And you are?”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Ralph.”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Nice name!”</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Thanks! I’ll race you!” Then he started running. I began running after him as well.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">And there we were, running towards the beach, towards my friends as the sun continued to shine its rays towards the white sand. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">As ironic as it sounds, everything started and ended in paradise. I know I still have a lot to learn and to experience. But I hope that Hans would be the new chapter I’ve been waiting for. I knew I had found myself. Now it’s my turn to open it up for someone else. And as I looked at him play on the water along with my friends, I knew I had found the one. You can probably say he’s my next victim, but I would reassure you he would be my last. *wink*</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">-The End-</span></div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-89237056897953624712011-03-09T21:36:00.000+08:002011-06-27T14:08:24.900+08:00Act 23: Conflict<div style="text-align: justify;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-PH</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguA2ztMs7MJnGhxjyjnr4JEr2yaY7-30DgtHchAAua6jq8jGTgywjfiGD51up3c053HlfokDKVyHfQyLUA2kqS_erLN0CUYjyDtaJ-Ix8nqkGGf-Z0RNWN1ZJxfjlkr6K6EDKTz7iEKXD-/s1600/Gay+Not+Gay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguA2ztMs7MJnGhxjyjnr4JEr2yaY7-30DgtHchAAua6jq8jGTgywjfiGD51up3c053HlfokDKVyHfQyLUA2kqS_erLN0CUYjyDtaJ-Ix8nqkGGf-Z0RNWN1ZJxfjlkr6K6EDKTz7iEKXD-/s1600/Gay+Not+Gay.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">We were beside each other, naked and all, when all all of a sudden, someone knocked on the door. I heard a woman's voice. <i>Danny?</i></span></div><div> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">We both jumped. My heart almost jumped out of my chest when I heard that familiar voice.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">In this dead of night? Why would she all of a sudden knock on our door? Thinking about nice timing.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Wait a minute!” Gian shouted from inside our room.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">We were both panicking as we try to cover ourselves with whatever article of clothing we could get out of the mess we created. I decided to just hide under the sheets and pretend to be asleep so that Danny won’t anymore bother us. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Gian on the other hand managed to grab his wife beater shirt and boxer shorts and wore it at lightning speeds. Even I was shocked at how quickly he was able to dress up and act as if nothing happened. “<i>Hmmm, he’s so used to this.” </i>I thought.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Gian immediately opened the door, smiled and greeted Danny who was apparently been waiting by the door for what seemed like eternity.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“What’s with you guys?” Gian started to stutter as Danny looked at him with arms crossed in front of her bossom. My eyes opened suddenly when I heard Danny’s question. <i>Gian, sorry for putting you on the spot…</i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span> </span>“C’mon, what took you so long?”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Gian looked at Danny in disbelief and I heard his deep sigh of relief as he answered Danny. All we thought was that Danny was asking what’s the real score between me and Gian. Thank God it was far from our paranoia.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Sorry, I was almost asleep when you knocked. Marky there was sleeping like a log so I had a hard time trying to push him aside without waking him up.”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“What an excuse. You were the one who always sleep like cooking oil.” </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I thought to myself as I secretly rolled my eyes.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Well, uhm, sorry to bother you guys, but I just want to ask if you have extra pillows?” Danny’s voice suddenly changed as she tried to peek inside the room, probably trying to check whether I was really asleep.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Gian went to the cabinet and pulled two extra pillows.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Here. You can take this.” Gian said to Danny, still smiling.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Oh, gee, thanks. Actually we only need one. Rina was somewhat a little irritating, trying to grab the pillow we were sharing so I thought I could just borrow one from you guys. Anyway, thanks for this one!” Danny said, finally smiling at Gian.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Oh, no problem at all. You can take both so that you’ll have a more comfortable sleep. Sorry for not putting enough pillows on your room. Mom probably forgot that there will be three of you girls that’ll sleep here.”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Sorry again for disturbing. Uhm, you may go back to sleep. By the way, I would just like to tell you that your, uhm, shirt is on the wrong side.” Danny sort of giggled. Gian immediately looked down on his shirt. I, on the other hand began to giggle silently.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Oh, sorry. Uhm, I’ll change it. Good night!” Gian immediately closed the door as soon as Danny left.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Whew!” was the only word that escaped Gian’s mouth.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Haha, we were almost caught there!”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Well, yeah, except this stupid shirt.” </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Gian began to remove it so he could wear it correctly but I tried to pull him towards me after taking off the shirt.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“You were funny back there.”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Yeah right. If you’d only saw how desperate I look, you would surely have shown some sympathy. I didn’t know how to react at her question. Good thing she cleared it out before I could answer.”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Aww, sorry beshie. Haha. But you gave a good excuse there, even though it’s actually a lie!”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Ha! Really now, you always sleep like a log dear!” Gian said in an affirming voice.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Well, you do too!” And we both started laughing, although we kept it at a low so that no one would hear us.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Since we’ve both been interrupted twice already for the night, we just decided to hit the sack. While we were lying down, naked, we hugged each other like we never did before. Finally, we fell asleep on each other’s arms.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-style: none none solid; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0in 0in 1pt; text-align: justify;"> <div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; padding: 0in;"><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">After the first evening with Gian’s family, I finally became more comfortable in meeting and seeing his family. I felt like I was part of it. They never treated me like an outsider and that truly made me happy. I like had a new family.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The next days that follow had been very hectic for me, and for Gian.<span> </span>But like the usual, we would always have enough time for each other. We would reserve our after-class moments with each other and we would often go out and have dinner somewhere in the campus.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">That’s another one thing common between me and Gian, our love for food. We would usually do food-hopping and we will roam around the campus trying to uncover places for good food. That probably made us even closer.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">As the defense for our thesis came nearer and nearer, I began to feel my nerves kicking in big time. I feel the pressure and the intensity of the period, but Gian made me calm down. His help and encouragement always keeps me going.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">There will be times that I almost fell asleep as I was typing this part of the paper when Gian would suddenly rub my back and wake me up, while offering a cup of coffee. Those were the times that always remind me of the fact that I am now finally not alone, and that there is someone willing to accompany me even if the going gets tough.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Of course, our stay in their house also became often, although if we could help it, we would just stay at the nearest café somewhere in Katipunan so that we won’t need to bother Gian’s family. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">He would always insist though that their house is always open for us, but it is our own choice to minimize going there since it’s already really embarrassing, most specially because Tita Sita, Gian’s mom always try to prepare something sumptuous for us to eat while we’re there. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">There are already enough of them in the family and feeding four more mouths is just too much. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">We tried to get food delievered once but Tita Sita seemed a little hurt at what we did for she thought we didn’t like her cooking. That was the last time we ever ordered food. We can’t help but to let Tita cook whenever we’re there.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Don’t get me wrong. I love Tita Sita’s cooking and most specially, I like always being with Gian in his house but the embarrassment just got into me.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Danny, on the other hand finally let go of me and Gian. She began to leave us alone and not anymore pry on our own private lives. She began to be more cheerful and accommodating to Gian and surprisingly, they began to get along well. Even better than what I expected.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">At first, I feel comfortable now that she finally brushed the idea that we might be together, but I still smelled something fishy with the way she treated him. She became too close with the guy that I can now finally leave the two alone together without anymore thinking or worrying that I might find them trying to stab each other with a knife.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I don’t know but I felt like Danny was trying to get Gian’s soft side so she could finally dig deep about his personal connection with me. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The thought actually scared the hell out of me when one time, Gian told me that he thinks she starting to like Danny more. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I was little alarmed at what Gian said but I tried to keep my calm. I just told him that he should be a little cautious about Danny. I know her too well that sometimes, she would not really stop until she gets what she wants.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I just tried to warn Gian but she kept on insisting that she’s not like that. I truly hoped he was correct and that everything I’m thinking was just part of my paranoid imagination. Anyway, I wouldn’t think Danny would go that far just to know whether were together.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Danny had always been close with Gian since the pillow incident and they would talk and laugh together. It is only when Vic is around that she would start to distance herself from me and Gian. I think that Vic knows the past between me and Danny and she probably didn’t want that former to get jealous.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">If only I hadn’t known Gian, I would think that he’s probably starting to like Danny in a different way. But what totally caught me off-guard was this one time when we were talking.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Beshie, do you think there is a possibility that I would fall in love with another girl?”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I was a little taken aback by his question but I acted as if I was not surprise.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Well, it’s not impossible. Though it still is you who can asnwer that.” I tried to play it cool as I seriously answered his question. I was starting to worry where our conversation would lead to.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Uhm, I don’t know. Lately, I had been surrounded by girls. At school, in the council, even when I’m with you, I’m being surrounded by girls. There was Ate Rina, Ate Charm, and…” Gian paused for a while and he looked at me but I was still busy typing something on the computer for our paper.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“…And Ate Danny.” I suddenly stopped typing when I heard her name. But he might notice it so I continued typing as if I didn’t hear what he said.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Try to gauge yourself beshie. I know you. From head to toe. Even if we haven’t been together for a long time already, I know that you are not like any straight guy I know. You are not obvious, that’s for sure, but when we’re together, haha, you can’t hide anything from me. But of course, you’re still a guy. And you still got that attraction towards girls. Haha” I almost died after saying that.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Then why are you laughing? Is there somehting funny?” Gian’s voice started to get serious.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Well, I’m laughing because I don’t know why you are asking me those stupid questions.” I said in response, also trying to maintain the seriousness in my voice.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“So you think I’m stupid now? You think what I’m feeling now is just non-sense? Is that what you meant Marky? Huh?” Gian was starting to raise his voice.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“I didn’t mean that, no. What I wanted to say is, you and I are together. You know that. Why would you, all of a sudden, bring that topic up, and with me, of all people?”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Because I thought, of all people, you would understand! I thought of all people, you will be the one who could tell me without you judging me. But it seemed like I was wrong. When I met you, all I see was the side of me who likes guys. Sometimes, I would even think that you are turning me more gay than ever. You, of all people, should be the least person for the job!”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Now, you’re trying to put it all on me. Ha, Gian? Are you blaming me that you are like that? That you are gay? Is that what you mean? Why? Gian, tell me! Why are you doing this? Did I do something wrong? Weren’t you happy anymore? Am I not satisfying you anymore? Or was it about someone else?” Those words all came out my mouth without brakes. I was just too furious to hear those statements from the least person I would expect it from.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Answer me Gian! Was it about Danny?” I hate to admit it, but I blurted out what I had been trying to hide from Gian. I was jealous. I know I shouldn’t have been, but from what I saw, I have all the reasons to.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“I… Uhm… Marky…”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">As Gian started to stutter and kept silent with the mention of Danny’s name. I know we have a problem. I thought it was nothing. But now, I’m facing the first huge conflict in my relationship with Gian. And I don’t know if I can handle it. I’m scared. Honestly, for the first time, I really felt at a lost.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-62095899560377163952011-03-08T19:25:00.000+08:002011-06-27T14:09:37.856+08:00Kabalintunaan ng Pag-ibig at Pagkabigo<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-PH</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP2eQfB2w8u08CfN5nGgavkKFnOGbfgnOpjjT-bW4w67XYoJObjiWqmSaklMV0KFLRke88aiqmE39VBrQiC-uluqk_qZqyHuSgeCC6VNaFy6ir1WsiUmnBieh7ugQtmyETZUENgSEteGhd/s1600/tumblr_l16l145bbN1qbcaemo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP2eQfB2w8u08CfN5nGgavkKFnOGbfgnOpjjT-bW4w67XYoJObjiWqmSaklMV0KFLRke88aiqmE39VBrQiC-uluqk_qZqyHuSgeCC6VNaFy6ir1WsiUmnBieh7ugQtmyETZUENgSEteGhd/s320/tumblr_l16l145bbN1qbcaemo1_500.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Bakit ganun noh? Kung sino yung taong ayaw natin, sila ang may gusto sa atin. Tapos, madalas, kung sino naman yung gusto natin, hindi tayo gusto. It’s so ironic…”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Eto ang isa sa mga hindi ko malilimutang linya nung nag-uusap kami nung isa kong kaibigan. Sabagay, totoo naman siya e. Hindi ko pwedeng pasubalian ang isang bagay na ako mismo ang nakaranas. Kung baga, to see is to believe, ang ikinaibahan nga lang dito, to feel is to believe.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Hindi ko alam kung may scientific or medical basis ba ang statement sa taas pero sa ilang bilyong tao sa buong mundo, halos lahat naman ata e nakaranas ng ganun. Yun bang rejection from the person you like, and rejecting someone who likes you pero hindi mo gusto. Hindi ko masasabing normal ‘to, pero kung titingnan kasi natin, it is very common.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9trLGVfHvfJBHg0yYdPBNCtla46-ErzV0_Mkc4TXx9mgMMz9TfdiDl4FUSN54KkjQKeNbG-07d5jtm6lzKjDI3Acezt4fFUJKojjKnD30C17C5zPq0sebKb2bhuEuXOSb1oz55LxoIgON/s1600/rejection1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9trLGVfHvfJBHg0yYdPBNCtla46-ErzV0_Mkc4TXx9mgMMz9TfdiDl4FUSN54KkjQKeNbG-07d5jtm6lzKjDI3Acezt4fFUJKojjKnD30C17C5zPq0sebKb2bhuEuXOSb1oz55LxoIgON/s320/rejection1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Yun bang kung iisipin, sa dinami-dami ng tao na pwedeng magustuhan at mahalin, yun pang taong alam naman nating hindi tayo maaaring mahalin. Marami namang dahilan kung bakit hindi pwede. Dun. Dun tayo nagkakaiba. Merong hindi kayang suklian yung pagmamahal natin dahil hindi na pwede. Taken na sila. Meron din naman diyan, hindi tayo kayang mahalin dahil hindi sila tulad natin. Complications in terms of preference? Pwede. Basta hindi pwede. Tapos. Pero meron din namang mga kaso na sadyang hindi lang tayo gusto nung tao. Pwedeng dahil hindi tayo umabot sa standards nila, or sadyang hindi lang sila interesado. At meron din namang mga palusot na kesyo “I’m not yet ready to fall in love” o kaya naman “You don’t deserve me. You deserve better.” Kahit saang anggulo man natin tingnan, isa lang ang ibig sabihin ng mga katagang yan, “It’s over. Hindi ka nya gusto. Rejected ka.” Kahit gaano pa kaganda ang pagkakasabi o kahit gaano pa kawasto ng mga salitang ginamit, isa<span> </span>pa rin ang patutunguan nun. As usual, bigo na naman.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Pero hindi lang naman tayo ang nakakaranas ng rejection at disappointment e. Marami pang iba jan. At kung mamantakin mo, baka nga ikaw pa ang dahilan. Pwedeng nireject mo dahil may iba kang mahal. Pwede rin namang “It’s complicated” ang drama mo. Pero madalas, nangyayari talaga ang rejection pag hindi mo gusto yung tao. Walang “spark” ika nga. Idagdag mo pa ang kawalan ng “chemistry”. Naks, spark at chemistry. Parang Science lang e noh? Ito na ba yung scientific basis na sinasabi ko sa itaas? </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Ybcfo33MRJX-q2Yf-wp-bCL69vRp7CoMVYWg8FWmjUbb85TLegchrtKKWwH0fdntLUgMTgHRff8vReqfXHuh2DN7E5g_Jxlecrdckag87RKNynFETrASjxRLTwWCiR3RM7SUbs6VWv_F/s1600/rejection+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Ybcfo33MRJX-q2Yf-wp-bCL69vRp7CoMVYWg8FWmjUbb85TLegchrtKKWwH0fdntLUgMTgHRff8vReqfXHuh2DN7E5g_Jxlecrdckag87RKNynFETrASjxRLTwWCiR3RM7SUbs6VWv_F/s320/rejection+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Well, kung ano man yun, walang makapagsasabi. Iba iba naman kasi tayo ng preference e. Hindi naman porke’t nireject ka e panget ka, at hindi rin naman porke’t <span> </span>nireject mo e panget siya. There’s more to rejection than just an ugly face. Pero let’s face it, malaki naman kasi ang probability na nirereject tayo based on on our physical appearance. Alam ko marami sa inyo ang magtataas ng kila, pero yun ang reality. People tend to judge others based on what they see. Visual tayo. Yun ang totoo. Kaya madalas, mga ipokrito lang yung magsasabi na hindi sila tumitingin sa pisikal na kaanyuan.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Hindi ko naman sinasabing sa pisikal lang tumitingin ang mga tao. What I mean to say is that we often look sa physical sa simula. Dun kasi nagsisimula yung attraction na sinasabi e. Yun bang mapapasigaw ka na lang ng “Shit, ang gwapo!” o mapapanganga ka dahil sa ganda niya. Ganun. After that attraction had been established, dun na lang susunod yung mga “Minahal kita hindi dahil sa itsura mo kundi dahil sa ugali mo.” Then everything else follows.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qltBHKCLjtDcyH4NenVUZ2-28ujCLlvXvq_I0KyeJWeoynlJ4qlWFuAVtqKOKlioorD0LpkYb0MjL9kxygVcMbYKGyFpMuT3klM9f69vO78o8XhyphenhyphenIBhgH_nmPNLmpn_7hXvseRnm9Lji/s1600/heartache.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qltBHKCLjtDcyH4NenVUZ2-28ujCLlvXvq_I0KyeJWeoynlJ4qlWFuAVtqKOKlioorD0LpkYb0MjL9kxygVcMbYKGyFpMuT3klM9f69vO78o8XhyphenhyphenIBhgH_nmPNLmpn_7hXvseRnm9Lji/s320/heartache.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Sige isipin mo ha, kung sa simula pa lang e wala ng physical attraction, would anyone be interested in knowing the person? Siyempre, eeffort ka pa ba? So kung ganun, isipin mo na lang kung ilang relasyon ang maaaring nabuo kung kinilala natin yung tao despite his physical appearance where we most likely based our judgment of the person. Kaya kung iisipin, nakakalungkot na maraming relasyon ang maaaring nagwork kung lahat tayo magiging open sa ideya na ang taong nagpakilala sa atin na hindi natin pinansin or yung taong naglakas ng loob na kilalanin tayo pero itinaboy lang natin e pinaglaanan natin ng panahong kilalanin.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Sabagay, that’s how the world works. Who am I to judge the very nature of men, and women for that matter. Kaya nga nature e, we’re born with it. Pero sabi nila, malaki ang epekto ng externalities sa paniniwala ng tao. Kung baga yung mga external factors na ‘to ang huhubog sa pagkatao natin at maaaring yumugyog sa kung ano ang kinalakhan natin o kung ano ang kinamulatan natin. Magbabago yan depende sa impluwensiya ng mga bagay sa labas na maaaring hindi natin kontrolado. Kaya kung minsan, hindi ko rin maialis sa isip ko kung ano ang basis ng isang tao para magreject siya ng iba.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Hindi ko naman pwedeng sisihin yung tao mismo. Desisyon niya yun e. Tulad din yun ng hindi ko pwedeng sisihin ang sarili ko sa pagreject sa ibang tao. It’s actually our own prerogative. Our own right. Hindi mo naman kasi pwedeng ipilit yun sa tao e. All we can do is to hope and pray na sana, kahit minsan, mapalingon sila sa atin at biglang may kung anong makita sila na maaaring magdulot ng interes sa kanila tungo sa atin. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXzC28ExqoVtzlUj2WD1iCE3p6CKRAWR23FPcpznYTi5vPwuKHDDJr7vyuJ-x7p4FFYiVlo_3MneuhTGcsiJXwQfnoZnmDBtlwGqSTU5XcmpK5SEIslPG7XwGczYAB-kLaogEzxw0ldB0j/s1600/aDSCN7352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXzC28ExqoVtzlUj2WD1iCE3p6CKRAWR23FPcpznYTi5vPwuKHDDJr7vyuJ-x7p4FFYiVlo_3MneuhTGcsiJXwQfnoZnmDBtlwGqSTU5XcmpK5SEIslPG7XwGczYAB-kLaogEzxw0ldB0j/s320/aDSCN7352.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Haha. I know suntok sa buwan, pero who knows di ba? Sabi nga nung kaibigan ko, “It’s never over ‘til it’s over. Pwede pa yan hangga’t wala pang asawa.” Alam ko nakakatawa. Pero logical at rational naman e, di ba? Bakit ka nga naman susuko kung may pag-asa pa? Malay mo, bigla niyang makita sa’yo yung matagal na pala niyang hinahanap. Alam kong tempting ang pagsuko. Hindi naman tayo mauubusan e. Maraming tao sa mundo and I know may tamang nakalaan para sa bawat isa sa atin, pero hindi rin naman bawal mangarap. Hindi rin bawal umasa. Kasi sa bawat butil ng pag-asa na panghahawakan natin, malay niyo, magiging daan yun para mabawasan naman ang mga taong sawi at rejected. Malay niyo, biglang isang araw, katabi niyo na yung taong matagal niyong inaasam-asam, di ba?</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">O siya, napahaba na naman ang kadaldalan ko. Gusto ko lang naman mag-share a, masama ba yun? Hindi naman kita pinilit na basahin ‘to e. Pero kung binasa mo man, maraming salamat. Ayan yung comments sa baba, feel free. Pero sobra naman na kung i-aask ko pa yun from you. Maraming salamat ulit. Sige na, tapos na rin naman yung pinapakinggan kong music. Sa uulitin! Babye! ^_^</div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-52522208046443444492011-03-02T23:27:00.000+08:002011-06-27T14:09:23.237+08:00Reflection<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-PH</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNMRpYlUKkO6bxRKOZSQ4mzP4Vei7ByjpEYOQS5Nbiiaw-CZ8rKfgCWFdaxuOYuVBsn2e9ppuYOGy2APMTiF0mZMYa26_J6exHQI1zRaNUIK2lJNs7H0KmZ7d6kh1hEewD-mVVFkWilG-/s1600/Blog+pic+for+reflection.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNMRpYlUKkO6bxRKOZSQ4mzP4Vei7ByjpEYOQS5Nbiiaw-CZ8rKfgCWFdaxuOYuVBsn2e9ppuYOGy2APMTiF0mZMYa26_J6exHQI1zRaNUIK2lJNs7H0KmZ7d6kh1hEewD-mVVFkWilG-/s320/Blog+pic+for+reflection.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He stared at the moving curtains of his window. It flowed and moved freely along with the wind. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He thought to himself, “I wish I could be just like the wind, free and uninhibited.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He then closed his eyes and felt the stream of cool air brush against his topless body. His lean physique was being lighted by the sun’s rays. Months of going to the gym had finally paid off and now, David is ripping the rewards. He wished he could offer it to the person he loves, not to the person whom he was obliged to love. Finally, David dozed off.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">It was already evening. The roads and pavements are now being covered by a mixture of light from the city. The metropolis was so alive, as if it was breathing. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Upon waking up, David stood up, went to the fridge and poured cold water on a glass. He then sat In front of his laptop and opened it up.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The portable computer sprang to life as David stared lifelessly in front of the monitor as it loaded. It was taking forever.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Usually, a Friday night would be something that most people would look forward to. David on the other hand despise this time. When most would enjoy partying and hanging out with friends after a week’s workload, David would just stay at his pad and spend his time watching trash on the idiot box. He had nothing to do. And most importantly, no one to share his life with.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">David actually had a lot of friends. But when he resigned from work, his friends slowly resigned from him. David had to learn for a fact that money begets friends. He had lots of them when he was still a big shot, but now that he had almost lost everything, so does his friends. He learned it the hard way.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">But to be honest, David still has someone. He has his girlfriend, who apparently probably would be partying and getting wasted during this time, along with her so-called friends, probably in a bar somewhere. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He doesn’t care anyway, and probably, she doesn’t too. Love and commitment does not exist in her vocabulary, and he’d rather keep it that way. The set up is perfect for him. For he knew he’d never ever love Monique, nor any other girl for that matter.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">David chose to stay at home rather than lose himself after getting drunk. He’d rather stay indoors and contemplate on his life. It was his time. In his own sanctuary. No one would judge him. No one would care. And most of all, no one would know.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He went online and immediately opened a site which he discovered just a few days ago. It was a site which made David excited. For the first time in his life, he could finally let go of his inhibitions. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">This site is where he could explore his other side which had been locked up for a long time. And as he waited for it to load, he kept his hopes up. He should be happy. And he knew for sure that he will.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">There goes the red thing at the bottom of the site and that made David’s heart beat a little faster than usual. He can’t help but anticipate.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He clicked on his messages and there goes 12 unopened envelopes.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">One by one he opened them, only to delete them afterward. He was already losing confidence. He was losing hope.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">After deleting all of the messages that came, David sighed and and lost all hope. But as he was about log out, the messages box again turned red.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif";">1 new message</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">David, not keeping his hopes up, clicked the button and waited for it to load.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 139.5pt 0.0001pt 1.5in; text-align: justify;">“Hey there! While browsing the numerous profiles in this site, I came across yours and I think you are worth checking out. I find you interesting. Since I’m close to your place, would you mind hanging out for tonight? Maybe a good cup of coffee and a little chitchat would do. <span> </span>Hope to hear from you.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span> </span><span> </span>-Dark_devil</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">David, all of a sudden, smiled as he read it. There was something in the message which tickled his imagination. He would give this person a shot, although he knew that this might be just like any other guy in this site. He still pushed his luck. And for the first time that evening, a message had been replied to and had been saved.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">David and the mysterious sender kept on exchanging messages for quite a while until he decided to invite the guy to his pad. David was a little hesitant about the idea but he urged himself. <i>If this is for finally fulfilling my deepest darkest desires, so be it.</i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">After sending the invite, he didn’t really know what came to him. He didn’t know whether it was lust or he was just lonely. He would’ve wanted to take it back, if only he could.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The guy agreed with the invitation and David, being a man of his words, began to respond with his exact address and some landmarks.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He anxiously waited for the guy. Aside from the fact that he was now thinking whether this guy is the real guy in the pictures, he began to worry about his safety and security. What if the guy was a serial killer? Or what if he was a robber? Nervous as he was, David kept his mind positive and hoped for the best.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">After an hour or so, someone knocked on the door. David stood up and opened his door and there stood the guy whom he was chatting a while ago. He was the same person in the pictures. He stood 5’11, was wearing a tight-fitting collared shirt that hugged his muscular body, a pair of faded jeans, and a pair of branded slippers.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">David smiled at the stranger and the guy smiled back. He let him in and offered him to sit. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Unmistakeably, David knew he was physically attracted with the guy. In terms of other aspects, he still can’t say, but based on their conversation online, he seemed to be a very interesting guy.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">After preparing some drinks, the two got along well quite quickly. He found out that his name was Richard and that he was a corporate slave.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The conversation was spontaneous. They began to share things with each other which kept the connection. And apparently, they were both loving their time together. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Physically, the two really are connected. And even if their brain wavelengths sometimes went the opposite direction, they still were able to reconcile those differences.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Then as liquor hit the both of them, the air inside David’s pad started to heat up.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Simple touches and gentle slaps send shivers to the both of them. And David knew where this will all lead to. But he is already affected by alcohol. His lust level went up and he began to think of thoughts that he probably would not think about when he is not drunk.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">But who cares anyway. David likes the guy and he felt that Richard also feels the same way. He didn’t anymore care that he has a girlfriend and he didn’t anymore ask whether Richard is fine with it. For all he knew, he was already kissing Richard in a wild manner.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">If it was booze or it was loneliness, he cannot anymore say, but he knew that he liked what he was doing. Richard on the other hand started to give in to his desires and they shared with each other wild and passionate sex. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">David, for the first time, felt that he is not alone. That Richard is with him all the way. He felt secure in the arms of Richard and he knew that what he felt towards the guy was more than just lust and desire. He knew fully well that he was the guy he is willing to give his heart to. After all the time that he’d been trying to deny the fact that he is a straight guy, even a hot and sexy Monique wouldn’t be able to turn him otherwise. He knew from the very start that he’s gay, only he was afraid to admit it.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">But now, while savoring the feeling of finally being free like the wind, David finally accepted his true identity. And he is willing to give everything up even Monique, just to be happy. And like any other guy who wishes to find his one great love, David thought that Richard is the guy meant for him.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The whole evening had been a wild journey for both David and Richard, but as a new day starts, would the time they shared last?</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><span> </span>The next morning, David woke up with a smile in his face. He squinted as the rays of sunlight hit his eyes. The next thing he did was to reach for the naked body lying beside him.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Apparently, there was no one beside him. David tried to reach as far as he could on both sides but there was no one there. He sat straight and realized that he was alone in his bed. Naked, yes, but alone.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He tried to look for Richard, even just traces of him but he found none. He only saw his clothes lying on the floor. No Richard.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Then it hit him. And yes, it him hard. Again.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He tried to check his account but there was no message. He tried looking for Richard’s message which he saved but the profile was already deleted.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">David sat there, alone. And for the longest time, his dreams of finally seeing true love were shattered, just like that.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The curtains on his windows again continued to move along with the wind.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The sun’s rays hit the bed which was witness to a journey of lust, awakening and rejection.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Then the monitor of the laptop dimmed and David saw his reflection. It was someone he hadn’t seen before. Someone else was staring back at him. And for the first time after a long time, the reflection let tears escaped his eyes and David knew that he will never ever again, let him be that person in that blurred and dark reflection.</div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-51997329808864850002011-02-28T23:03:00.001+08:002011-06-27T14:08:24.901+08:00Act 22: Wilderness<div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahDDUDvXtV2pD3vYtDuS3wqiWMp1xQTF4_IshcTufypVgQlNZ72zIwfSLpl8Mf2nLFu10PK7gyAiEs30piuUpZK9BEbRY3D5-zlKgqF6oK5T6Wrrh6QzrDAS-SA8p1vwC-ABnTmngeLf3/s1600/Untitled-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahDDUDvXtV2pD3vYtDuS3wqiWMp1xQTF4_IshcTufypVgQlNZ72zIwfSLpl8Mf2nLFu10PK7gyAiEs30piuUpZK9BEbRY3D5-zlKgqF6oK5T6Wrrh6QzrDAS-SA8p1vwC-ABnTmngeLf3/s320/Untitled-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Do you feel something for her? Do you still love her?” Gian whispered as we both lie down beside each other on his bed.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">After the braincell-draining thesis session with my groupmates, we all decided to call it a day. The three girls all went to the other room while me and Gian were left inside his room.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Hey, I’m talking to you, do you still feel something for her?” Gian said in a very soft but serious voice.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Why do you need to ask me that? You know the answer.” I said as I continue to look straight towards the ceiling. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Would I even bother asking if I knew the answer? Well, I thought I knew the answer, but after what I witnessed awhile ago, I now doubt if I’m correct.” Gian looked at me and then turned to look up again at the ceiling.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“You don’t need to doubt me, Gian. You know that you are the only one I love and no one, even her, could change that. When I start to love someone, it’s difficult to change. And you know how much I love you.” I said firmly while looking at him.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Everything I said was true, although at the back of my mind, I still thought about Danny. We sure did have a lot of ups and downs together and I’ve treated Danny in special ways that I’ve never imagine. But I knew the truth and I know what I like. Whom I like. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I tried to erase the thought of Danny in my head and focused on the person beside me. He is the one who owns my heart and nobody else.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“I’m sorry. I never should’ve doubted you. I just can’t help myself getting jealous, knowing the past between the two of you.” Gian said, finally looking at me.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Past, Gian. That’s why it was called the past. You are my present now, and hopefully, my future. Never ever forget that.” I said to Gian as I held his face in my hand.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Gian smiled as he stared at my face. He looked so cute and innocent when he smiles.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“To be honest, nothing really happened between me and Danny. We were just plain friends. Well, she’s my closest girl friend, but nothing more than that.” I assured Gian.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Oh well, if not for that song, it wouldn’t have been awkward. Did Ate Rina know?”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Oh, Rina. Nope, I don’t think so, although I guess she smelled something fishy already awhile ago. What I’m more worried about is Danny knowing the real score between the two of us.” I sounded anxious just by the thought of it.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“But you know that not all secrets will remain hidden. Sooner or later it will come out, and you, of all people should know how to handle it. But you know I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.” Gian held my hand and squeezed it gently.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“I know. But the longer we could keep our relationship a secret from her, the better. I don’t think it’s the right time for her to know. Not here. Not now.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">With that, Gian hugged me. I know I’m being unfair to Gian and to Danny at the same time but I can’t help it. I must protect myself and my friends, although I know at the back of my head that it’s inevitable. I’m just not ready to face the fact that the first ever closest girl I knew whom I turned down would find out that she courted a bisexual guy.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I tried to close my eyes for a while, trying to clear my head. I don’t want to think about it. I’m already stressed out with my academic life that I don’t anymore want to add more stress to my life.<i> I’ll just deal with it when the time comes.</i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Moments later, I felt Gian body-hugging me. The kind of hug where someone wraps all his limbs around you. What I felt that time was warmth. Warmth inside and out.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Gian’s face was so close to mine that I felt the warmth of his breath. I tried to look at him and I saw through the corner of my eye that his eyes were closed.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I tried to adjust my body in a position which is more comfortable for me, but he hugged me tighter, as if telling me that I should not move.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Then, all of a sudden, Gian whispered something in my ear.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Do you want to continue what we were doing awhile ago? I’m sure no one would disturb us now.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">All I felt that time were goose bumps all over my body. <i>Did I hear Gian correctly?</i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I kept my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“I know you are awake, you don’t need to pretend.” Gian said smiling while still keeping his eyes closed.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I tried to suppress my emotions but I can’t help it. I smiled and almost burst into laughter. <i>Darn, he knew me that much.</i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">And then came the tickling. A never-ending tickling moment.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">He kept on tickling me on my sides and I can’t help but beg him for mercy. But I knew him better.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">When he was about to stop tickling me, I retaliated. I tickled him in all parts of his body.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">His eyes were already watery and he was laughing like mad. I never knew that he was that ticklish. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Sometimes, when I would stop and his laughter would subside, I would again pose like I’m going to tickle him and he would laugh immediately without me even touching him yet. That’s how ticklish he was and I’m loving every moment of it.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Haha, <i>akala mo ha, </i>now that I know your weakness, dare to tickle me again and you’re dead!” I said to him while laughing.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Hindi na, hindi na, can’t you see, I’m already waving a white flag here! I surrender!” Gian said trying to stop from laughing.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">We both lied down on our backs. We were sweating but we were both laughing at the same time. We were really having a good time.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">When our laughters subsided, he lay on his side while supporting and keeping his head raised with his right arm and hand as he looked at me. I kept both my hands in front of my chest and looked at him at the same time.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“I love you.” He said while looking straight to my eyes.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I smiled.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Why?” He asked.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Nothing.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Really, c’mon, why?” </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Nothing. I’m just very happy. Never did I imagine that I would feel this way. It felt so light. So carefree.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“And why is that? You’re a nice guy, haven’t you imagine yourself being with someone else, say Enzo or Kuya BJ?” He said mockingly.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I frowned when I heard him say the names of the two guys who became part of my past.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Here we go again.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Seriously, wouldn’t you be happier if you’re with one of them? Or maybe both of them?” He said it while grinning.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Yeah right. Now you’re making me look like I’m desperate.” I said while rolling my eyes.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Honestly Gian, you make me smile in ways that I cannot fathom. You make me feel better when I feel bad. You make me feel important even if I’m not. You do things for me that I really appreciate, no matter how big or small it was. You make me feel different.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“It’s because you’re special.” Gian said.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Yeah, special child!” I said sarcastically.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“No, special gift. Someone I’ve been praying for all these years. And now that I finally found you, I won’t ever let you go.” Gian, again, made me blush big time.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Same here Gian, same here. After everything I’ve been through in life, I never thought that something great would come my way. When my whole world was slowing crumbling, you came, and I was able to keep it all together. Thank you Gian. For being you. For being the person that I truly love!”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Gian slowly moved his face closer to mine and our lips met. He kissed me. My heart beast faster and my hands started to get cold. Gian and I had been to intimate moments before but not this intimate. We own the place, we own the room. No one would bother us. No one would see us. It is just me and him and no one else. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I began to strip off my inhibitions and I let my love for him flow freely. I couldn’t contain it anymore. I’ve been trying to hold back the feelings inside me and I knew it’s the right time to let it all out.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">It all started with short and slow kisses. The next thing I know, we were both kissing passionately. Half of his body was already on top of me and we were wildly kissing. Lips rubbing each other and tongues in a swordfight.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">His hand travelled across my chest and he began to rub my nipples through my shirt. We were both giving in to temptation. Our rational minds were clouded with the mist of passion and desire.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I looked at Gian and I saw how hot he looks in his black wifebeater shirt. I took it off and then I started caressing his chest.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Since Gian is a cheerdancer, he was able to maintain a fit body, and you would feel the muscles in his chest. I also played with his nipples as we continued french kissing each other.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">He then also took off my shirt and our bodies began to rub with each other. His warm skin touched mine and I felt a tingling sensation. It was my first time with Gian but I felt comfortable with him. Maybe because I’ve been preparing myself for this. I know it will come sooner or later, and eventually, it did.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Gian was so hot while topless and that surely turned my life upside down.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Our bodies began to dance in that middle of the night. We were sharing something intimate and we knew we were wide awake on a time when most people were already asleep.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">It was our own time, our own world. We were like prisoners who finally got out of jail and tasted freedom for the very first time.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Our clothes went flying everywhere as we began to express our feelings for each other through our bodies.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">We were two souls sharing a single purpose.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">We tried to keep the volume down but we were both engulfed in lust that no one bothered anymore if we did make a sound. All we know is that we were together, we were enjoying each other’s company, and we were finally giving each other the thing that we’ve been keeping all this time.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">We slithered and we slide on top of each other as we explore and discover each other’s bodies. His tongue started to play right from my mouth down to my chest, then to my tummy, and then to the thing that I had been keeping inside my jeans. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">He held it and he put it in his mouth like a hungry wolf. He devoured me like hell. He licked, he sucked. I was in a state of pure ecstasy.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">Inevitably, we both let everything flow. And on each others arms we fell, tired, sweating, and satisfied.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">My head was on Gian’s arm as we both lay on his bed. We were chuckling after making love and we can’t help it. We looked at each other and we kissed.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“I love you beshie.” I said sincerely.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“I love you too!” Gian responded while kissing my forehead.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">We were beside each other, naked and all, when all all of a sudden, someone knocked on the door. I heard a woman's voice. <i>Danny?</i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">We both jumped, and for the nth time that day, I blurted out.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Fuck!”</div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-18637536619793941512011-02-23T21:18:00.001+08:002011-02-26T12:33:56.073+08:00Love In Silence<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio_OGF4xh2aVCT5xS23hJuvP35IHCjfzvH8X2khTWLzZjnZIHxWGwS0-_XBQvLO_HEhRZasWSjTYf4IPk8A0t5cMr1bIlOX3beObdhzCNq7doKC4qtCgTdzGz_anE9XkaOOeZ8hZ42x51J/s1600/shhh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio_OGF4xh2aVCT5xS23hJuvP35IHCjfzvH8X2khTWLzZjnZIHxWGwS0-_XBQvLO_HEhRZasWSjTYf4IPk8A0t5cMr1bIlOX3beObdhzCNq7doKC4qtCgTdzGz_anE9XkaOOeZ8hZ42x51J/s320/shhh.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">There we were, sitting opposite each other, trying to feel each other’s presence. I would look at him and once our eyes meet, we would both look away. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He would do the same. He would look at me while I concentrate on my food. You wouldn’t hear a single thing. We will both be engulfed by silence as we enjoy our food.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">My left hand was placed on top of the table and he would try to hold it, but I would withdraw my hand and I will look at him and blush. We were so much like the cliché couple from high school who wanted to be wild but tried so hard to be decent.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He would just smile whenever I look at him and eventually, we both learn to be comfortable with each other. At first, you would feel the awkwardness of the situation. No one bothered to talk, nor begin a conversation. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Prior to our first meeting, we were constantly chatting on the web. He was so talkative. I, on the other hand kept my replies short and simple. I don’t want to convey the wrong message. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I just listened to him talk about his day. Then, through the words that appeared on our monitors, we would laugh, console each other and talk about just anything. No inhibitions. No limits.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">As the days passed, I learned to warm up to him. I became more open and I started to talk. Every night, you would hear the continuous clicking of my keyboard inside my room. It was my first time to be loquacious. Given my situation, there was really no one I could talk to, aside from my mom who never knew that his son is inclined to love the same sex.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">It was quite liberating, being able to talk about the things that I couldn’t openly talk about with others. I was like a child who first learned how to walk. I was starting to take little steps and the next thing you know, I’m already running in every direction. I even surprise myself sometimes. I didn’t expect that I would be this open, most specially with a stranger.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">A month or two had passed and I know that Mike is not anymore a stranger. He is actually the closest friend I have. Even if at the moment, we both exist in the virtual realm, I know that what I felt towards him is genuine. I hope he felt the same way. Then, as we end that day’s chat, I kept my fingers crossed.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Then came the time that he asked me out on a sort of “date”. I was obviously not prepared for this one although I expected this offer already even before. I knew that the time will come when he would ask me out. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Of course, given the length of time we had been chatting, I’m sure we both would want to see each other in person. I felt a little anxious about this proposal but he kept on urging me and persuading me that it’s going to be okay. With shaking hands, I replied with “okay.” I clicked on send and there goes nothing.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Aside from the fact that this is going to be my first time meeting someone in person whom I just got to know from the web, I was even more worried for it’s going to be my first time meeting someone who accepts me for who I am. I know I had already accepted my situation long ago, but never did I imagine myself seeing someone who understood my condition.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, the day came and here I am, sitting opposite the guy who promised me it’s going to be okay. I sighed when I saw him standing in front of the restaurant where we were supposed to meet.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He was about 5’10 tall, and like what he said, he has a lean body. He was wearing a plain white long-sleeved polo and a pair of jeans. When he faced me, he flashed a smile which made my knees weak. I know it’s cliché but well, that was what I felt.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">He led me inside for it’s my first time in the place. Like a gentleman, he pulled a chair for me and I quietly sat on it as I smiled at him. He just nodded and smiled as he took his seat.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">A lot of times, I had thought about him just making fun of me. And every time those thoughts came, I would just sigh and hope that it’s not the case. I would even sometimes directly ask him if it’s ok for him to continue chatting with me, and he would just laugh and ask me what I’m talking about. He would even reassure me that he would’ve not continued talking to me if he does not accept me for who I am.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Those were the things that I tried to hold on to until this very moment. But when I saw him, I knew that I wouldn’t anymore need to worry myself. I knew he meant everything he told me. And as I look at him, I know I made the right choice. The person whom I’m willing to give my heart to has pure intentions and I know he would love me despite of everything.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Not long after eating, I leaned on the chair and he smiled and asked me if I got full. I nodded and smiled as I rubbed my tummy. He softly laughed and looked at me. His dimples were showing on both cheeks as he looked at me smiling. His chinky eyes were almost hidden. Then he told me something that I would never ever forget.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“You were the only person who made me feel this way. And no matter what your condition is, I don’t care, for I don’t anymore want to regret that I let go of the only thing that made me whole and complete. I wouldn’t anymore lose my other half.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">And with that, tears started to fall down my cheeks as he held my face with his right hand. That was the time I knew that even without the power of speech, I know that there are a lot of things that I could use to express myself. A simple smile, a droplet of tear, all of these could mean a lot. And the silence of the moment brought me and Mike together and I would never ever doubt again the person who accepted me wholeheartedly despite my disability. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">This is what I’ve been waiting for, and finally, I found it. I held his hand tightly and without saying anything, I knew I made him feel what no words could ever describe.</div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-706769786809341744.post-3442583239224628122011-02-16T11:48:00.003+08:002011-02-22T10:18:30.368+08:00Act 21: Jealousy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHGv8RJijShnd59SoJrDnOqMmuBXGTbRUHPMExotI8f8i2wSIHxdG8mnAqtsvc0N9oMPg1sVb9ILWCGWZMTQoVLif30PPRtg7jo-y6H8QSxWKipOp5xLrEOIHJkOF96YOX1Oy2fN22fGJZ/s1600/ViolinMW_sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHGv8RJijShnd59SoJrDnOqMmuBXGTbRUHPMExotI8f8i2wSIHxdG8mnAqtsvc0N9oMPg1sVb9ILWCGWZMTQoVLif30PPRtg7jo-y6H8QSxWKipOp5xLrEOIHJkOF96YOX1Oy2fN22fGJZ/s320/ViolinMW_sm.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Yes Ma! Wait a minute! I’m changing!” Gian shouted.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Okay! Once you’re done with that, go down for dinner!” Gian’s mom responded.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I looked at Gian with an expression resembling that of a little boy who wanted to poop but can’t coz he doesn’t know how to clean himself up. Gian smiled and mouthed “It’s going to be ok. Trust me!” He gave me a wink and held my hand tightly. All I was able to do was sigh and just trust him.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">After changing our clothes, Gian rubbed my back and hugged me before we went out the room.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Danny, Rina and Charm were already waiting for us near the stairs. We heard sounds coming from the kitchen. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">We were about to go down when all of a sudden, a little girl came running towards Gian.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Kuya!” The little girl shouted with glee as he rushed towards him.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Annie!” Gian immediately hugged the little girl as he carried her.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“By the way guys, this is my youngest sister, Annie.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Hello Annie!” We all said in chorus.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Hello.” Annie said in a very soft voice while smiling. She sounded a little shy but still I find her cute.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><i>So she’s going to be my sister-in-law? </i>I thought to myself as I secretly laughed.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Annie went down and ran back to her room.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">When we entered the kitchen, we smelled something. It was delicious.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Gian, is that you already? Kindly set the table so that we could eat. I’m starving.” Gian’s mom commanded without looking. She sounded a little authoritative and serious and that really made me shiver even more.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Uhm, ma…”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Gian’s mom suddenly stopped what she was doing and she turned around to face us.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Oh, hello! Sorry, I forgot. I didn’t know that it’s going to be today.” She was a little taken aback seeing us.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Haha, that’s so typical of you mom. I told you already a thousand times before but still you keep on forgetting.” Gian rolled his eyes (which I found a little cute because he’s not used to doing that), but still smiled at his mom.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Sorry dear, it’s just that we are very busy at work lately. Anyway, good thing is that I cooked for a lot tonight.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Haha, yeah mom, and we REALLY ARE STARVING.” Gian laughed as he winked at all of us.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Anyway, let me introduce them. Ma, this is Charm, Rina, Danny, and this one’s Marky.” Gian pointed to us as he presented us to his mom.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“It’s my pleasure meeting all of you. It’s nice to finally meet the friends of my son. He rarely brings friends here. ”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“So you are Marky. My son told me a lot of things about you. I’m glad my son has someone whom he calls his best friend. I was sort of afraid that my son is becoming introverted.” Gian’s mom slightly laughed.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Gian again rolled his eyes. “Let’s eat now ma!”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">We were setting the table up when a tall girl appeared in the dining area along with Annie.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“There you are!” Gian said.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“That, my friends, is my other sister, Sandra. Sandra, these are my friends, Danny, Rina, Charm and my best friend, Marky.” Gian always highlights me when he introduces me to his family. Don’t get me wrong, I liked it, although it also makes me a little flattered and a little different from the rest. Anyway, I still find it sweet of him.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Hi guys!” Sandra said. Unlike Annie, Sandra is a little serious like her mom.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“All of you guys, c’mon, sit down, dinner’s served.” Gian’s mom invited all of us to gather around the table.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">As we ate, I’m getting more comfortable although I still felt a little flustered whenever Gian’s mom would ask me questions.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">We were having a good time when a tall man arrived, carrying a briefcase and some folders.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Oh, the dining area seems crowded” The man laughed.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Dad, these are my friends…” Again, Gian introduced us, emphasizing me as his best friend.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Gian’s dad, unlike his wife, is more relaxed and seemed like a jolly fellow. He joined us for dinner. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">While eating together in one big table, I felt something different. I felt the warmth of a family. With my friends, Gian and his family all eating together with me, I felt like I’m part of a whole. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">When I was at home, this is hardly the case. Even if we’re only three in the family, we never eat together. The dining table at our house had never served its purpose. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">This is what I missed. And this is what I’ve been looking for ever since my parents broke up. Tears started to build in my eyes so I tried to hide it by concentrating on my food. Fortunately, my eyes cooperated and I was able to control whatever emotion I felt during that time.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">As we finished, Gian’s dad made a remark that we should all feel comfortable and make ourselves at home. We all nodded and thanked them for accommodating us. We also were a bit sorry for bothering them and their humble abode. They assured us that it’s okay and that they are happy that they can help us in our ACADEMIC work.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">After cleaning up, we all went up to our room, along with the three girls. Since the desktop PC is located in Gian’s room, we all decided to just stay there so that we could start doing our thesis.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">We all took out our laptops and as usual, it was Charm who initiated everything. To be honest, after eating, I would’ve wanted to at least have a little private time with Gian but since Charm wanted to start already, I can’t do anything about it.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">After setting up for work, we found out that Gian doesn’t have a wi-fi router. Whew, that posed a problem since we wanted to at least have a connection for all of us so we could all do research. Anyway, since only the desktop computer has internet connection, we cannot do anything about it.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Gian was the one who manned the desktop. If we need to research about something, we just tell them and he was the one who looked for it. Gian was really eager to be of help. Actually, allowing us to use his house is already a big help but he insisted to help us even during researches and conceptualization.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I smiled at Gian as Charm asked him to research about the current market rates of a certain product. Gian smiled back at me. On the corner of my eye, I saw Danny looked at us and I saw a slight hint of confusion. She probably is starting to notice the gestures between me and Gian. I went back to doing my stuff and tried to put the idea at the back of my head.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The room was silent. Everyone’s busy doing what they have to do. Every now and then, I would glance at Gian who’s surfing the net for information that could help us in our thesis. I would then smile and remember the reason why I loved the person staring directly at the desktop monitor. If only we were alone, I would’ve gone straight to him and hugged him tight. I badly wanted to do that but I needed to stop myself. Anyway, I could do that to him once the girls leave the room.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Out of boredom, Rina decided to play music on her laptop, probably to ease the seriousness of the atmosphere. I was a little caught by the song that played.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Three years ago, our journey began <br />
Chasing down this cure, no plan in hand <br />
Just your pulse, my racing guide in the dark <br />
Just knowing with conviction from the start </span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">I stopped what I was doing and looked at Rina. Rina was smiling back at me while her head moved from left to right, following the tune of the music. She probably didn’t know. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Beside her was Danny who also stopped typing. She just stared blankly at the laptop monitor. Then, she probably noticed I’m looking at her. She looked at me and our eyes met. I immediately withdrew my gaze and she did the same. I looked directly at my own monitor but I didn’t do anything. I just listened to the music that played.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b>The moment your eyes made an introduction <br />
I felt my second violent breath of life <br />
Flawless to the point of being godly <br />
Yet I fell hard for your imperfections </b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I started humming the song in my head. It was so intoxicating. A lot of memories came rushing back just by hearing that song. I’m sure Danny felt the same.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b>And now we're slightly weathered, we're slightly worn <br />
Our hands grip together, eye to eye through the storm, yet <br />
I still believe in ever after with you, yeahhhhh <br />
Cuz life is a pleasure with you by my side, <br />
And there ain't no current in this river we can't ride <br />
I still believe in ever after with you </b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">As the chorus played, Rina began to hum the tune. Still, I restrained myself from doing the same. I tried to keep my focus on what I’m doing but the song just kept on bothering me.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">I would’ve wanted to let Rina stop playing the song, but it would just cause misunderstanding. She doesn’t know that the song has something to do between me and Danny anyway. It would be inappropriate if I act that way, so I just tried to ignore the song.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">But as if mocking me, Rina even turned the volume a little louder and started singing the lyrics of the song.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b>Nothing compares to the good times <br />
Feels like we're floating, when the rest have to climb <br />
You made me believe in love, and not the perfect kind <br />
A real messy beautiful twisted sunshine </b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">All of a sudden, even Gian started to sing the song. <i>I’ll be God-damned. </i>I thought to myself.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><i>What have I done to deserve this cruelty?</i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b>Emotions, volcanic eruptions <br />
We both still care, so we're still alive <br />
Tunnel vision, determination <br />
I want you, I want to make it right </b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Vol-key-nic eruptions” I said.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“Vol-key-nic eruptions” Danny said in unison.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">We both looked at each other and we laughed. Yeah, suddenly, we both blurted out the same phrase at the same time, in tune with the first line of the stanza.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">The others just looked at us with confused faces as to why we both said the same phrase and as to why we laughed.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Danny and I had been both music-lovers. Danny plays the violin and I was the singer. Before, we used to hang out and just sing. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Whenever Danny brings her violin with her, I would be the one to carry it around and people would ask me, even commend me for being able to play the violin. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Well, it was just the image that I wanted to convey. And Danny would just laugh whenever people would think that I really do play the stringed instrument.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Before we shifted, we have this area on the second floor of the Geology building where we usually hangout. We considered it our “tambayan” since we both don’t have organizations.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">It was located on an unusually dark hallway on the professors’ floor. Despite the dark hallway (which is kind of eerie because even if it’s sunny outside, the hallway has always been dark the whole day), this hidden area is lighted up and ventilated by the open windows. There was an old couch there and we just accidentally found the place while we were roaming around before our Geology class.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">This is where she usually plays the violin. She even tried teaching me once and I was able to play Happy birthday to you after several tries. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">After staying there for quite sometime, we went straight to our laboratory class where we’re going to classify rocks.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">While me and Danny were looking at the rocks trying to identify them, she suddenly sang the song Ever After by Bonnie Bailley. I looked at her for I know the son but I didn’t know its title that time.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">While looking at a rock, Danny reached the stanza on emotions and volcanic eruptions. And with all her heart, she sang “vol-key-nic eruptions” instead of vol-kah-nic eruptions. Then I laughed at her. She looked at me and realized why I laughed and she also began laughing. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">“What?! That’s how the singer pronounced the word, I just copied her! It was really vol-key-nic and not vol-kah-nic!”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">She was hitting me on my shoulder as I continued to laugh. She was also staring to get teary-eyed while laughing because she kept on insisting that she pronounced the word correctly.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">Ever since then, I used to mock her with the song, most specially during our laboratory in Geology where we studied igneous rocks or vol-key-nic rocks.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">We were still laughing at the phrase. Gian looked at me intently. When I saw his serious look, my laugh started to subside and so did Danny’s. The atmosphere became tensed again.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">After that incident, Gian didn’t look at me. He just looked directly in the computer without saying a word. He knew about us, Danny and I, and he probably got a little jealous. I would just talk to him about that later.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">After the song, another song played, and she commented that she loved this next one.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><b>Look inside, <br />
Look inside your tiny mind <br />
Now look a bit harder <br />
Cause we're so uninspired, <br />
so sick and tired of all the <br />
hatred you harbor</b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I knew I’ve heard the song before but I can’t remember when and where. But I seriously liked the tune. I didn’t care much about the lyrics until the next stanzas that followed.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><b>So you say <br />
It's not okay to be gay <br />
Well I think you're just evil <br />
You're just some racist who <br />
can't tie my laces <br />
Your point of view is medieval</b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">When I heard the word “gay”, I became more interested with the song. I looked at Rina and asked her what the title of the song was. Danny looked at me in a serious manner. <i>Did she hear the word “gay”?</i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Fuck you.” Said Rina without looking at me.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Huh?” I said, quite confused with her response.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Fuck you.” She said again, flatly.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“What?!” My voice started to get louder. <i>Did she just bad-mouthed me?</i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“I said, fuck you. Fuck you!”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I was becoming more furious.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Didn’t you ask for the title of the song. It’s Fuck You by Lily Allen.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Oh… Haha, I thought you were denigrating me.” I said, finally calming down.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Haha, it’s fuck you. Why, did you like the song too?”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“Yeah, so straightforward.”</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">“I know right!” Rina laughed.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><b>Fuck you (fuck you) <br />
Fuck you very, very much <br />
Cause we hate what you do <br />
And we hate your whole crew <br />
So please don't stay in touch</b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><b>Fuck you (fuck you) <br />
Fuck you very, very much <br />
Cause your words don't translate <br />
And it's getting quite late <br />
So please don't stay in touch</b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I looked at Danny and she looked at me, but she immediately withdrew her gaze. I shifted towards Gian and I didn’t notice he’d been eyeing me and Danny all along. </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">He probably saw us both looking at each other. I saw the look of irritation and resentment in his face before he turned away.</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing">I finally looked at my computer and sighed. The only word that escaped my mouth was “fuck.”</div>Markyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18293846132825677156noreply@blogger.com0