The Day I Fell InLove With My Bestfriend

We were never cut out for relationships because we were too proud to be independent.

We were comforted by the fact that we never have to be alone in the first place because we had each other.

We get by. We manage. We move along just fine.

You had your life and I had mine, and when we stopped, we had each other and we talked, and talked some more.

You enjoyed the company of your friends doing the things not most of us can do at that time, but for some reasons even you could not explain, you found my company no matter how boring and dull and quiet, absolutely comforting.

You told me that really I am just a girl wanting to be needed and in need to be wanted, and compared me to a shell.

That being tough on the outside is just my way of protecting what is on the inside.

I resented you for telling me the truth and I felt the twinge because deep down I knew then that I was already losing a piece of me for letting you in and letting my guard down.

I remember that day you grabbed me close to you not wanting to let me go and you kissed me, and I let you.

I completely surrendered.

I only pulled away when I realized what it meant.

The day I fell in love with you was the day I lost my bestfriend.

I miss you. I miss talking to you and with you.

I miss the notes we passed to each other everyday.

I miss arguing with you. I miss you. I really do.

Neverwhere

It is not easy to watch other people live their dreams.

It is even harder living a dream not yours but someone else's.

Looking back, I had a few of my own.

I was younger, undaunted and unafraid.

I had the world on my feet.

Now all I am is nothing but a dreamer.

A wanderlust, a vagabond.

I just cannot seem to touch the ground.

I am hurting that I have failed to live the dreams I have grown to believe are my own.

I hurt even more realizing that dreams are not mine for the dreaming.

The pendulum sways and that is all there is to it.

I am here but I am not there.

I just simply exist.

I envy those who have dreams for dreams keep them going.

and I

am neverwhere.

Ironies

How heavy
the heart
that's empty
how light
the heart
that's full.

Sleepwalk

In slumber
fervent and soothing
when hope can seem endless
or otherwise stale,
I find myself awake.

The realities of the waking
are nothing more than that of the dreaming.

Caught in between
with the weight of the pains inside,
I walk the earth with an invisible cane.

And what of the path
narrow and steep,
I must keep walking
for no reason at all.

And I find that crippling beyond all reasons
beyond imagining
beyond all of mind's escapes.

Fear

I am afraid
that when this ordeal is over
it will finally be over
and I am afraid
forgiveness I might not be able to give
that easily.
When at last I will take a stand
I am afraid
I will disappear
from your presence
forever.

Faraway

I am here
yet
I am
far
far
far
faraway.

Sometimes...

Sometimes it is not just about who you love
but about who loves you the most when you are feeling a little less loved.

Sometimes it is not just about who you care
but about who cares the most when you do not.

Sometimes it is not just about that someone wanting you
but about who wants you knowing that you want someone else.

Sometimes it is not just about being with a person you are used to
but about who is there even if you are not used to being with.

Sometimes it is not just about love
but it is also about friendship, respect and laughter.

Sometimes all it takes is a little less love,
a little less of virtues, a little less expectations
to patch a wound, to heal, to start anew.

A Siopao and A Coke

I was seventeen or eighteen and he was twenty five.
I was auditioning for a radio stint
and it was his voice I heard telling me that I passed.
He was mentoring me and I was nervous all the time.
He would drop the needle and play the music
and my young heart skipped every time.
I knew then that I had to break up with my first
as phone calls and love letters and stuffed toys
just did not do the trick any longer.
For the first time in my life, I have hurt someone's feelings
I felt guilty but I knew in my heart it was for the best.
The Man became my little unknown world
and every baby step I took I took with caution
and with so much gusto.
Filled the newsroom with gifts and flowers
but with the little notes and the sweet gestures
he made me feel like a woman.
My biggest decision was to spend one new year's eve with him
because I knew then that whatever happens
it will be because we have consented to it.
Acting out on an emotion was just too exciting
and scary at the same time.
We were in his car that night by the beach.
No fireworks. No one else was there.
Sitting next to him wrapped around his warmth
I felt contentment. I felt shielded.
I did not wish to be anywhere else.

He and the rest moved to another radio station
I preferred to stay.
There was still so much to learn.
We still met every night before my curfew.
Different feelings every time.
Till one day, a friend of ours told me
the story of a coke and a siopao.

I was an object of a bet.
He gets me, the friend will treat him a coke and a siopao.
He doesn't, he will treat the friend the same.
They both did not get the price for their bet.
For I was neither his nor was he able to "get" me.
Young and gullible as I was,
he just showed me kindness and persuaded me with sheer sweetness.
I was much obliged.

Then came another story.
This time, from him.
The ex was pregnant and it was his.
I simply asked, how did that happen?
but I did not want to know.

I heard him on the radio
played me the song,
"Waiting for a Star to Fall" by Boy Meets Girl
he said for his little princess
and I heard my heart break for the first time.

It has been many years now
and the story of the coke and a siopao
remains in my heart.
But we remained friends.

I saw him again last year
and after late lunch and coffee with another friend
I moved to ask if I could kiss him.
Just one harmless kiss
so I will not have to wander about thinking
what was it like to kiss The Man.
He leaned forward, bent a little
and we kissed.
He said he is married and with two kids.
I said I was only stealing a kiss.
He thought I was getting back
for the siopao and the coke,
and I simply said no that was just for me.
He never dared to kiss me then
back when i was young and gullible
fearing I'd break
for I was just to him, a budding flower.

We met again recently
under different circumstances.
Things changed and I like it.

For a Rose

It was a single dare that got us together. I was surprised to find myself comfortably enjoying times spent with you. We clicked. We danced the tide. We share moments of joy that pushed each other's sadness away. We found comfort in each other's misery, and we danced some more.

In our desperate attempt to forget, and beat the troubles down, we pushed it too hard and did the unthinkable, for as long as we were together. In that desolate place, we found our solace.

The good times spent came to an end as my realities were too grand to ignore, and I was left with no choice but to decide on what is best.

I did not leave you alone. I was just away for a while to chase a rainbow for whatever its worth. It took me a while to make up my mind but when I started packing, I knew then if I looked back I would have stopped myself. It was as if you heard my thoughts because you did not show up. No goodbyes, we promised.

I left with a heavy heart because you would be left alone, but I was comforted by the promises we have made and I did what I had to do.

Time flew and my return was met with sad realities, and once again, I forgot. I have forgotten why I left and why I have returned.

I have failed you as a friend. My best was not good enough, and I have not tried hard enough.

I am sorry.

I know things are not the same anymore, but I have faith that there will be better days, and that you will shine above it all.

you are a rose and these thorns will only make you stronger and better.

I am still here.

I have not gone that far.

I have forgiven you and I hope that you have forgiven me.

Forgiving myself would be the hardest part, but time heals all wounds.

No goodbyes. Only hellos.

Excess Baggage

Cleaning up my closet was the first thing I did today, as I have to move again in seach for my place in the stars.

A journey has ended and another one begins.

My life these past years consisted of packing up and unpacking, and then packing up some more. I give up some and gain more.

I actually find it therapeutic.

One by one I cleared my closet and I could not believe the number of baggage I have accumulated. From old love letters to highlighters, worn out shoes to happy meal toys, dried up roses pressed between pages of thick books to stuffed animals that have collected dust, and other things I cannot even remember what they are for.

Suddenly, it dawned on me, I do have a problem. I cannot seem to throw stuff away. For the sentimental values and what its worth, or maybe just my lousy rationalization.

It also occurred to me that I may have a bigger problem. I cannot seem to let go.

I must admit, denial is my third name and I am very good at hiding. I reckon, it is easier to see things in a negative way so when things wont work out the way I have hoped them to be, it would not hurt so bad, thus my seemingly endless cynicism.

There were also those times when I did put my heart on the line and risked breaking it and getting bruised, and letting go seemed to be an eternal curse.

Like my old stuffs in my closet, clinging to those failures and mistakes seemed like an easier way to escape. Afraid that throwing those stuffs away would mean losing the sentimental reasons for keeping them in the first place.

Afraid that letting go would mean losing a part of me that is broken. Getting used to my brokenness prevented me from healing, for in my misery I have found my solace.

Now I have realized that for me to go far, I have to travel light. I must throw away unnecessary baggage and to throw my cares to the wind.

I do not need things to remind me of the past, as it will infinitely be indelible in my mind and in my heart. It is just so amazing how the mind works.

Ironically, my moving on this time means going back. It is not deja vu but a reality check for me. Maybe I will make the same mistakes, maybe I wont. Maybe I will make it this time, maybe I wont. Maybe there will be more tears, or maybe there will be more laughter. I would not know for sure unless I try again.

Life is a bitch, and yes shit happens. I just have to deal with it.

I must choose to chance the rapids and dare to dance the tide.

Sway

I look into your eyes,

I bathe in their warmth.

Your gaze,

has so much meaning,

that we speak without a word.

I hold your hand,

and you grasp mine.

Your grip is steadying,

reassuring,

one from which i draw my strength.

I draw you close,

and in your embrace,

fervent and soothing,

I am content.

I am at home.

Silence

Sometimes
when misunderstood
and explaining
would only make things worse
maybe
just maybe
silence
would get
the message across.

I have not the heart

If it is a game
then I am not playing
I have not the heart.

If it is a contest
then I give up
I have not the heart.

If it is not mine to keep
then I let go
I have not the heart.

A Breath Away

You are just a breath away
odorless and common,
but something about it
makes me stir a bit,
could be your fiendish laughter
or maybe your thoughtless ability
to make grand of unanimated subjects,
I just could not catch the drift
but it is definitely void of substance.

There is a certain stench
though unpleasant and repulsive,
I find it sweetly bitter
not because I am used to,
but because I am finally free
to smell the difference
to feel what is lacking
to taste the avoidable
and to see beyond the blinds.

I am happy
now that I am a breath away from you,
I have not the allusion
that the way we were
can ever be
the way we will be,
and I find it really ludicrous
that you are just a breath away
yet I am here now a thousand miles away.

Life on A Tight Rope

The cigarette butt is burning and as I inhale the last of its smoke, I saw a brief picture of my life in a minute, capping it off with my present state of mind. It would be easier to just let things be and wallow in misery, because afterall I have tried hard enough and the harder I try the more illusive dreams can be. Sulking becomes a natural reflex cushioned only by the tears shed inside.

Incessantly I continue to run away unbridled by what is constant if only to keep me sane. I count countless herds of sheep before I sleep at night and yet I still cannot seem to rest my mind, and sleep becomes an enemy.

I am reminded of one of my trips to the islands in Tawi-Tawi, sailing on a small motored boat. We paddled when the tide is low, and the “bankero” would only look at the clouds and feel the wind patterns as his guide, and as always, we arrive at our destination without being eaten by sharks or being held hostage by pirates.

If only I can just pray to the sea for signs of my fate, I would journey through life with only the night stars as my guide. I would not mind. But life is not about wishful thinking and what if’s and what could’ve been. Life’s surprises don’t come in pretty wrappings with colorful ribbons they come in unanticipated fashion that can bring out the best and worse in you.

Life is about taking calculated steps on a tight rope balancing in thin air, and there is no looking back. Whether I reach the other end or not solely depend on me. Damn if I do and damn if I don’t.

My Winnie the Pooh Story

"Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind, "Pooh!," he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?"
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you."

This quote from the Tao Of Pooh by Benjamin Hoffman has had me all so schmaltzy over and over again. I have memorized it in my mind, and in my heart I long for it. I am incurably sentimental when it comes to friendships and what moves me. I seem to have all the answers for the seemingly endless cries of friends who come to me for an opinion, for words of wisdom, for support both moral and financial, for a companion, for a fan, for an assignment, for a song, for a poem, for a soul, for a shoulder to cry on, for a heart, for a mind.

But when it comes to my own cries, I always end up wiping my tears alone, left with my own thoughts, my anger, my frustrations, my anxiety, my pen and notebook.

I am not complaining. I am merely stating it as a matter of fact. In as much as I want to say it nonchalantly I feel a twinge somewhere deep inside. I cannot help it. I am human too.

It is not a contest. There is no competition of whose problem is bigger, or who's got the most worries. That is not what I mean. I think what I am trying to say is, when you think of me to call upon when you need a friend, think of me too calling upon a friend, whispering a cry almost silently, I am alone and I want to be sure of you.

for joshua

you give strenth when i feel like giving up.

you keep me smiling even when hope seems bleak.

you give me comfort when the world seems cold.

you make me feel everything is going to be alright because you never complained.

you are the sunshine through the rain.

you are my reason for living to keep you alive.

you have held my hand when i wandered around.

please hold my hand now little angel for i am wandering still.

When You're Here

That's when I miss you most.
When you're here.
When you aren't here,
When you're just a ghost from the past,
or a dream from another life,
it's easier then.

kung kelan tahimik ako

you asked me ba't ako hindi nagsasalita
sabi mo pa nga sobrang tahimik ko
pag ako ba nagsalita
makikinig ka?
or do you just want to hear yourself?

i opened my mouth to verbalize it
the what, the why
but i choked on my own words
i can only pretend a smile
to hide my pains away.

if my silence bothers you
engage me in still idleness
maybe you'll catch a tear
maybe you wont
but at least i know
it is my voice you wish to hear.

bakit ganon
kung kailan tahimik ka
saka ka hahanapan ng sasabihin
kung wala ka ng sasabihin
iisipin ang damot mo na.

ask me again how i am
when you are ready to listen
when you can accept the truth
that i too can break and fall
i am not made of bricks
and i am capable of feeling
and i break easily.

ask me again
only this time
say it without words
just hold my hand
perhaps a hug
maybe a pat in the back
a smile
a face.

A broken winged bird

the night seems still but not my heart
i beckon a song
but it slips my tongue
i cannot remember
the last time
i felt deeply restful
when the stars just glow
and the sky is nothing but blue.

from a friend
this i post
to those wanting to know
or plainly just curious
here is what
i wish to share
when no one is there
or simply couldn't care.

The Bird That Couldn't Fly © By Rebecca Bagley

You couldn't understand,even if you tried,the reason that she cries at night,the reason she tries to hide.

Don't try to come close,she'll just push you away,there's something that you don't know,words she couldn't say.

She tries with all her might,to be herself around her friends,but something doesn't feel right,a broken heart that could not mend.

She pretends that she's strong,a tough outer shell,but there's always something wrong,she's trapped in her Hell.

She wants to speak,to tell you all the truth,but she is way too weak,broken without any glue.

Painfully shy;the bird that couldn't fly.Dying on the inside;a body without a mind.

Maybe if you took the time,find the person she tries to be.

Maybe if you looked inside,you'd realize she is me."