overused

It’s been a while since I last posted here.

I always start of my posts like this. If I told you before that school was crazy, well, it has been A LOT CRAZIER now. It’s been eating up my time, my energy, my financial resources and sometimes even slivers of my sanity.

But the thing is– everything is rewarding.

However, despite the crazy levels of fulfillment this devil of a job requires from me, I cannot avoid to ask myself so many questions about my competence, about how I fair with all the other writers that came before and will come after me.

As someone who chose something so technical yet so practical of a job, I cannot think as to what extent do my readers view my capabilities as a writer. I feel out of place and out of league in the industry sometimes, maybe because I just can’t get out of the thought bubble that has clouded me ever since I started taking things seriously.

I feel like I’m a burden to my mentors. A burden to my editors. A burden to my writers. A burden to the people I am able to work with.

I feel incompetent. It’s greatest now more than ever.

I think that though I extend help I wouldn’t be able to get things right and make my superiors’ jobs easier, as the way it should be. I feel like there has to be some more pushing, some more drive, to get me out of this.

Which gets me to another thing.

It’s been 10 days since my birthday. And after 6 years, this is the only time you were not beside me when I blew that candle (or took that tequila shot).

Well, celebrating a 19th birthday doesn’t merit anything grand, anyway.

The mere thought of you, being able to remember me in the only day I feel celebrated was the only thing I asked for. It was my only wish- yet it didn’t come. Maybe it’s true that not all wishes are granted- regardless of depth and simplicity.

I cannot muster enough will power to even say that I’m happy for you now. I know you love her, the way I wish you could love me. I know this wouldn’t change anything, and it is a known fact that you will not be able to read this either. But I just want to let you know how self-destructing it is to still love the same person for more than a hand’s worth of years.

No matter what, no matter how crazy or pathetic it is, it is still you. The man behind the drive that drives me, the man behind the drive that drives me crazy. The man behind all these years of putting up a strong facade, the man that I think watches over my every move– wherever I go, thinking you’re someone so omnipresent that there’s not one thing in my life that I can not associate with you.

Maybe people’s hearts and brains get overused. And to me it proved to be true.

Marahas ang Maynila sa’yo, Mahal.

Marahas ang Maynila sa’yo, Mahal. 

Doon kay Maynila, lahat ay nakikipagsapalaran, lahat ay may kanya-kanyang pinagkakaabalahan. Bawat tao’y may sariling interes, at bawat tao’y mistula bang nagmamadali.

Lumaki tayo malapit kay Maynila. Kamakailan lang nang nakita natin ang isa’t-isa na hinahasa ang ating mga sarili para suungin ang pagsubok ng tinatawag nilang “real world.” Hindi kalaunan, sumabak na tayo sa malaking mundo ng urbanidad, sa malaking mundo na tila ba walang puwang para sa tulad nating mga bagong salta, tayong mga sanay sa kalinga ng maliit nating mga probinsya. Si Maynila ang naging daan natin tungo sa mga ito.

Labag man sa ating kalooban, bawat araw pipilitin nating harapin si Maynila. Pipiliting puntahan kahit ayaw, pipiliting paghandaan bawat araw. Gigising tayo na tila ba mga robot na may sinusunod na mekanismo. Pagsapit ng dilim, uuwi tayong pagod na pagod, at mabubuhay na lamang na hinihintay kung kailan magiging maamo sa atin ang marahas na si Maynila.

Subalit, kahit ganito si Maynila sa ating dalawa, may utang na loob ako sa kanya. 

Kung hindi dahil kay Maynila, hindi kita makikilala.

Kung hindi dahil kay Maynila, malamang ay hindi magku-krus ang landas nating dalawa.

Kung hindi dahil kay Maynila, hindi natin maihahanda ang ating mga sarili sa mga pagsubok na balak dalhin ng buhay.

At higit sa lahat, kung hindi dahil kay Maynila, wala tayong pagkakataong magkasama.

Hindi maipagkakaila ang dinulot ni Maynila sa kwento nating dalawa. Si Maynila rin kaya ang magiging panira ng istorya? 

Nakikita ka ni Maynila na nag-iisa. Ganun din naman ako. Alam ni Maynila na parehas tayong nahihirapan, pero pinipilit nating maging matatag. Bagamat mga dayo lamang, pursigido tayong maging matagumpay sa buhay. Maraming kilalang ganito si Maynila, pero wala siyang pinipili.

Marahas si Maynila sa lahat. Lalung-lalo na sa’yo, Mahal. 

Ilang beses ka na niyang pinagod, pinaasa, pinahirapan. Bumabangon ka araw-araw para harapin siya, umaasang gaganda ang trato niya sa’yo, subalit hindi siya marunong magpahalaga. Handang-handa kang manatili kasama siya, pero tila ba mas lalo siyang naging mailap sa’yo.

Minahal mo si Maynila, Mahal. Kailan kaya ako? 

Here’s to feeling useless

At the time being, I feel useless.

I’ve done nothing productive, nothing that’s really worth acknowledging.

I anticipated that this summer I’ll do the things I wasn’t able to do whilst I was in school, but guess what, none of those plans materialized.

Plans that are similar to some dreams that never came true.

I feel ashamed because I wasn’t able to grab that city hall internship because I was clinging to this seemingly pointless apprenticeship I once thought will give me a hefty paycheck after months of actually putting legitimate effort into.

I feel sad that I refuse to go out and see my friends because I constantly thought that “nobody really wants to see me anyway.”

I feel awful for not taking care of myself anymore. I grew tired of exercise and I continue to eat like a horse, well, unfortunately, much to my parents’ dismay.

I feel useless. I feel like I’m something worth disposing just because I wasn’t able to maximize all this vacant time in my hands.

I keep reasoning out that this time is my “much needed rest” because the tougher years of college are on my way.

I even grew tired of pretending I’m doing something worth bragging about, because the truth of the matter is, I am not doing anything at all.

Yes, I maybe well-rested but I feel like I’ve done the world a wrong thing.

I don’t really know what to feel. I have no words. I feel a certain kind of self-decay.

Everything seems pointless to me. I think I have nothing and no one to look forward to anymore.

So, here’s to feeling useless.

To The One Who (Really) Got Away

Dear You,

Ours was a different kind of love.

We, polar opposites, started out as unlikely friends with unclear intentions and different hopes and dreams.

Polar opposites that seemed to attract in a way even reason will find hard to justify.

You were the type who’ll choose to stay inside your room and play the games you’ve always enjoyed, while I was the type who’ll prioritize work more than anything else when I’m not idle.

You were the type who’ll choose to listen to all my endless blabber and chit-chat and I was the girl who was not used to a man who listened intently like you did.

You were the guy who was not driven enough because you felt out of place. I was the girl who’ll do anything to get to where I want.

Despite all this, you were the guy that I imagined a future with.

To be the man I’ll be with for the rest of my life, the type who will stick to me when things get rough.

The man I want to wake up to each morning, the man I’ll care for when we both age.

The man who’ll teach my kids to ride a bike, the man who’ll fix the faucet when it breaks.

The man who’ll give way for me when we’d argue, the man that I’ll trust.

You may not know it, but yes, you were the unlikely man of my dreams.

With you I felt safe and secure, with you I felt cared for.

You were the only one who didn’t made me feel like I was taken for granted.

Unfortunately, for the unlikeliest of reasons, I chose to pull away.

I chose to leave without saying a word because I felt scared.

I felt scared that you would change, that I will run out of things to say.

I felt scared that I will not be able to entertain you anymore.

I felt scared that maybe a time will come when I’ll forget that you’re with me because I chose other things over you.

I felt scared that our attraction to each other will die out like the spark that led us to where we got.

All of what we had was uncertain.

I took cues but I didn’t want to misinterpret them.

I didn’t want to assume that you liked me, because I was scared to lose you the same way other men in my life before did because of all these “presuppositions.”

I chose to wait for you to tell me straight up what you felt for me.

But, I got too overwhelmed. After the time that we had, we drifted apart, each clinging to our own interests and goals.

I let everything slip away because I was too afraid to hurt you.

I knew that hurting someone as fragile and important as you was not something I nor anyone is entitled to do.

I was not in a position to hurt anyone’s feelings just because I was unsure of my own.

I wanted us to end in good terms.

It took me a while to realize that you were the one who really got away.

A lot of people wondered what happened to us, intrigued about why we choose to leave our story unfinished.

Maybe we’re destined to not finish our story anytime soon. Maybe at some point in our lives, we will. And I’ll live for that.

I’ll live for the day we’ll bump into each other and rekindle the spark that we’ve left at a locked chamber within the both of us.

I’ll live for the day we’re the right people for each other, filled with self-love we’ll be willing to share intimately.

I’ll live for the day we’re both mature enough to come to terms with what we both feel.

I’ll live for the day I’ll love you with my all, the day I’ll be certain I won’t let you get away no more.

I guess we shall leave and live our story just like this.

Love like ours for the second time will be a different kind once more.

Do know that I will be waiting.

Yours and yours always,
I.

Here’s To More Mature Roles

30th of May, 2015.

It was such an eventful day, jam-packed with errands to do and meetings to be in. It was also the same day we, almost half of the staffers of The Flame, will be going to Tagaytay City to formalize the editorial turnover for the next publication year.

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To cut the long story short, it was a day of embracing more mature roles.

It was all fun and games until our posts were announced.

Our editors and seniors– mentors we loved to work with and learned to cherish as family have graduated from the University and eventually would have to take on more mature roles like they believe we’ll do.

Like the rest of the staffers who have been attached to each of their editors and seniors, I guess words aren’t enough to express how much your presence in the little workplace we call home will be missed.

Feels have taken over us individually, making it even harder to let go of the strong bond even more solidified by our memorable Tagaytay trip.

But, it’s an evolution, I guess.

Evolutions in which we grow together, learning to coexist to continue to keep The Flame burning.

Evolutions in which we learn from each other, continuously finding ways to ignite our readers’ intellectual senses.

Evolutions in which normal students like us, choose to tread the path of which we believe we can spark change.

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As you venture into the crazy realm of the “real world,” I hope all the memories we’ve had be forever etched in each of your hearts.

All the little things too cheesy to specify, all the little milestones we’ve had while keeping The Flame blazing.

As we move on to live our lives separately as society tells us to, I hope we could still work together and make each other proud.

I appreciate all the love, support, trust and many other values you have shared with me and my colleagues in this “family” that’ll connect us even beyond our years. F

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On a final note, I say, “Here’s to more mature roles!” 

An Open Letter To The Girl He’s Seeing Now

Hi!

It’s been a while since we last talked.

I knew you personally, and I even grew to like you a lot because I know you’re a really nice person.

But let’s cut to the chase.

I apologize for trying to steal him right in front of you.


I didn’t know you were seeing each other. I liked his company, and I guess he liked it back, maybe that’s why he kept me around.

I only knew you were seeing him by a chain of events:

First, when a little bird told me that he was seeing someone (at first I didn’t suspect it was you).

Second, when I did some sleuthing and cross-checked the evidences (yes, I did that using my skills as a special reports writer).

Third, when I finally confirmed it on a drunk, humid night with my friends. I really didn’t know about it. I swear to the very last drop of my blood.

When he forcibly asked me who was the guy I was writing about (which was obviously him), at first I didn’t want to tell it right away, because he didn’t tell me that he was seeing you.

It wasn’t fair that I spill the beans first.

Then he asked if I wanted to know who you were. I was really angry then, but I don’t know if I’m angry at you or at him, and also, I was really scared to hear your name because a lot of things will change.

I will never be able to look at you the same way again.

I will never be able to look you in the eye out of extreme, heavy guilt.

I can never even mention your name out of pure shame.

For this I apologize.

I apologize for flirting with him right in front of you.

I apologize for forcing him to have lunch with me instead of having lunch with you.

I apologize if I asked him out on a movie night only to flirt with him a lot and have him to myself.

I apologize for all the times that I hugged him and held his hands.

I apologize for writing about him so much.

I apologize for taking too much of the time he should’ve been spending with you.

I apologize for being a home-wrecker.

I apologize for being the bitch I promised myself I’ll never be.

But, do know that I was completely uninformed.

I am deeply hurt not because he turned me down because of you.

I am deeply hurt because a huge chunk of my ego was stepped on.

I will never know how you will view me as a person after the wrong things I’ve done to you.

I can never have the opportunity to personally apologize but do know that I am writing this sincerely, hoping that you would be able to read this and hear my side of the story (as he had probably told you his side of it).

But I’ll leave you with some unsolicited advice.

Don’t take care of him more than how you take care of yourself.

Don’t make him your world (he doesn’t even look like Earth, sorry).

He’s not really worth it (as I once thought he was).

And, leave some love for yourself.

He is his own set of insatiate insecurities he fears to address.

He’s been a loser. He won you over (and a handful of people), but there’s a void in him only he can fill.

And he’s yet to do that.

But again, I’m really sorry. I should’ve stayed in my lane.

Do know that I hope you guys are happy. If you guys work out in the long haul, I’ll personally congratulate you. But if things don’t, you can thank me later (and comfort food’s on me).

Sincerely,

The Innocent Home-Wrecker

Finally.

You didn’t let me off the hook this time.

I guess you’re very good at that. (And you actually look like a hook, too.)

All this time, ours was an endless cycle of denial and dropping hints (or just on my part).

Now, everything either falls apart or remains.

You ask me what my plans are? Well, I can’t tell you a thing.

I don’t even know for sure what I’m going to do anyways.

How I’ll go from here, how I’ll move forward? Nothing. I don’t know.

A part of me wants to despise you all the more.

A part of me wants to remain clinging to false hopes fueled by misled emotions.

I cannot proximately coexist with you and continue convincing myself that I’m over with whatever this is that I have for you.

I cannot afford to lose anyone else just because there is this “rift” that permanently changed the way we deal with each other.

If chances are that what I have for you will still matter after a short while, then it’s sad to see this flee as soon as I was certain of it.

But most likely, it’ll flee like all the “loves” I’ve had before. (Even if there’s such a thing as “never the same love twice”).

Don’t say sorry. You don’t have to.

It’s not your fault that I’m hurt by a twisted, strong attachment I imposed on myself.

You don’t have to pity me. I don’t need that. I told you I’m strong (it works on the surface).

You don’t have to fit in my shoes.

You’ve had it with these kinds of situations for as long as I can remember.

You’ve had your fair share of insults, ridicule and neglect. But I admire your threshold for pain.

Prior to this, I’ve written that we are all helpless if unreciprocated feelings remain unaccounted for.

Your questions will remain unanswered as long as I keep on withholding emotional baggage from too much time I spend alone with my scattered thoughts.

If you will be persistent to talk things through then let’s try taking that grueling path. Maybe diplomacy is key.

But before my mind takes me to another trail of thought, I’d like to leave you with saying that I really appreciate you, for all things shallow, cliché and petty.

I love you still, but never again I will.

-M.