marriage; 'till death do is part.... really?

I haven’t been at a point in my life where I said, “I love you forever” and actually meant it. I’m not a player, I just don’t like thinking about waking up the next morning and the following mornings with the same person. I just don’t like things that are permanent simply because things normally change. And I certainly don’t like having to be enslaved by the idea that some things can stay the same. It’s not a matter about love anymore; it’s a matter of security.

Honestly, I don’t believe in marriage. One of the reasons is that, marriage is a contract. There is a piece of paper legally binding two people under God and the state. All their resources are shared mutually as agreed upon. But if you ask me, marriage is just another way of saying that two people are having sex annually… legally.

I’m not saying this because my parents didn’t work out because that would be a lie. My parents are still together, in-love and all. But every time I ask my mother about whether or not she made the right choice, she would never answer me. Marriage was supposed to be her ticket to law school. But my dad thought that my mother was discontent so he got mad. My mother just wanted to finish law to prove something to her self as well as actually achieve something. Marriage can always do that. It is a way of enslaving men and women again… legally.

I haven’t been married yet. Honestly, I have been through many propositions before. A Muslim boyfriend before asked me to marry him. But when I realized that I could not abandon my faith for him, I strongly declined. It was not because his God is any different from mine; it was because he and I were two separate individuals. I just wanted to keep it that way. I didn’t want him to think in any way that he owned me. I didn’t want him to feed me or clothe me because I could do that for myself. I didn’t need his love, I needed his attention. And If I got married to a man who could get married to 4 women, then that would be limited. I wouldn’t have his full attention 24/7. I would simply have to share it with women he is also legally allowed to sleep with. I don’t like that.

A Christian man also asked me to marry him. But when I saw his family and I met the real him; I decided to live alone. His mother thought that I was just some girl on the side line and i was a girl who had no ambition at all. Much to her surprise, she found out I was able to succeed more than her son did. I was able to reach third year in college while her son became my student in NSTP. Their family owned a small karinderya and that was all they owned. I didn’t say yes to him because he had nothing to offer me. Honestly, love won’t keep us alive. He had no ambition; and that was just appalling. I did love him honestly. But love is not enough to sustain a family. It is essential, but it is naïve. Love is what keeps a family together. But to keep the family alive doesn’t require love.

The only real man who ever loved me was an ex-seminarian. He loved God and still does. He has a job. he knows how to wash clothes. He is independent. For that, I admire him so much. But what I did love about him, and I still do, is that he never makes any promises. He didn’t talk about us getting married. He did talk about having kids, but he never really said to me that we needed to do it. he didn’t get mad when I didn’t want to sleep with him. He loved me; and that was something real.

For so many times I heard my friends complain about their boyfriends, I have always told them, “even married people break up. You should try it”. marriage is not really bad, but it is just impractical. People waste time, effort, money and love for people who will only love them less with every year gone by.

I have had driving lessons last week. My instructor, kuya marko, was married. He told me that when he and his wife were still lovers, he would hold the umbrella for her and made sure she was always at the safe side of the road. But once they got married, he would laugh at her whenever she would trip. If she would be almost hit by a car, he’d reprimand her. see? Even love changes.

The church strongly encourages people to get married which is part of a believer’s devotion. It is to bind two people under the light of the lord. Anything done outside of marriage is a sin. True, but sin is a matter of culture. What is a sin to Filipinos might not exactly be sin to Americans or Indians. Sin… is not a fact. It is just like saying that I once believed in something to be real, and then somebody showed me it wasn’t and then somebody showed me it was true again.

For a long time, I have known that same sex relationship is strictly a bad idea. It is condemned by God and it is wrong. Then my friend told me, it’s not wrong. If it really makes me happy, then I should go for it. so much so that she gave me a number of a girl who was a lesbian. But when I met her and I saw that she looked almost like a man, I backed off. I didn’t want to date a man. I wanted to date a woman!
Then while talking to my professors in my course, I learned a lot about sexuality. I read a few articles saying that it’s okay. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Same sex relationship has real love because it is no longer about physical satisfaction. It is about satisfying each other emotionally and spiritually. And I look at them and say, “yeah right.”
So my friend from Arizona talked with me about sexuality. She said, it isn’t wrong to love a person of the same sex. But biblically, it is. so i opened the Bible to find it written down in sacred text how God only made man and woman and nothing in between.
I honestly don’t believe in either. I believe that sexuality is a choice. If I want to be a lesbian, then I will become one. If I open my mind to a new perspective of happiness, then I will find it. as they say, when there’s a will, there’s a way. Nobody can ever make me feel anything without my consent.

The next reason why I abhor marriage is because it has become a fad. Growing up in my province, people were not so desperate to get married. I always thought that everyone else was getting married at their own convenient time. But I was dead wrong.
My house help’s nephew got married one June afternoon. He invited my family to go to his house in Bukidnon to celebrate with him. They killed a horse and several cows for the feast. Then I asked my helper how young her nephew was. He was only 19. The girl he got married to had just turned 18.
My house help’s nieces all got married or had live in partners if they weren’t old enough to get married yet. Most of the women in their barrio either got married, got pregnant, or had partners. For them, if a person reached 25 and she was still single, it was like she was an old maid. But for my folks in the city, that was just the right age to do that.

The idea of marriage is good. It helps people feel the sense that they are needed. It creates an image of a life less lonely. It creates less space for forlornness and emptiness. But how we interpret the idea of marriage can often turn awry. How we interpret marriage or our reasons for marriage is why it can be a bad idea.
Marriage is supposed to be something done by people who are ready for commitment. It is not supposed to be something to enslave people. It is something that should bind two people without the thought of owning each other. It is something to remind two people of a love they swore to God and to the entire human race and should not be something done for means of survival. It should be something done at the right time, not something done in a hurry. The problem with us today is that we think otherwise. That is really why I don’t want to get married.

Often times, even as lovers, we tend to control each other. And I don’t want that. I don’t want to own anyone. I don’t even own my self. Everything in this world is never ours and will never be. Most of the time, we love a person only and only if the person loves us back. We date men who have jobs because they are potential husbands. And men date women for an entirely different purpose.

Why can’t we just date a man and not have to think about getting married? It’s not a requirement anyway. Nobody has to get married. Marriage, like everything else, is a choice. And I choose to say, I won’t get married unless I know that it’s not because all my friends are married. It’s not because I need to finish school. It’s not because it’s the right thing to do. And it’s never because I want to own someone. I will not get married because I love a man. I can always love anyone or anything without having to get married. Love is not the essence of marriage and marriage is not the essence of life. I will get married because it is my choice, not because I just want something out of it.

I hate marriage. But I’m still 18. Things will still change.

"signs"

at first glance, i'm not your average girl. i'm taller than usual, tanned, and a frank yet tacless mouth. but deep inside, i have a confidence greater than usual and i have an unmalicious mind. typical, yet still a remarkable person. if you look at my bad side, i'm by far the worst person to be with. i insult people without my knowledge. i pretend to know everything. i hate criticisms. i don't eat food that is necessarily sanitized. i hate nursing (sorry to say). and i don't believe in signs.

well... that was not until today...


i was walking towards CIT building to look at my grade since it was blank. for some other reason, i used the pathway near haggerty house where there were more trees and the air always seemed fresh. walking there was like a glimpse of heaven or for some, nirvana. but carrying on my walking, i kept asking myself, "what will i do after this?"

i haven't exactly been a good student. the only possible way for me to get an A is when the teacher uses all my oral scores instead of the written ones or that she takes my attendance as the bigger percentage. i was almost glad when i got an A in my major. only to find, so did the rest of the class. i wanted and still want to be the best. i want it only to be me who got that. sounds selfish and ambitous. but hey, i'm only human.

when i got to the room, my teacher wasn't there so i rushed back to the department to get enrolled and just follow-up on my grade later. i still have a month to comply anyway. so when i rushed there, all my classmates were crowded together in a corner like snails. two of them were my best buds.

i told them i was going to shift to engineering. half my mind was saying, "why not? jafe's there!" but the other half said, "you started this mess... now finish it!" unknown to them, i had been debating with myself for centuries about what i really want to accomplish. i want to be somebody, not just some body.

so i told my friend, "hui. i'm going to shift to engineering". so my friend asked, "which field?" so i answered, "ECE". kidding around, they both wanted to join in. i was so half serious. i swear, if they went to engineering to really shift, i would never be a philo student again! but they all thought i was joking, somehow, i wish i was. but she said, "ayaw ui. mag Law bya tang tulo!"

while waiting for my mom to be done with my sister, i sat nearby the chapel. it was a perfect morning. not only had i seen jafe, but i was able to accomplish alot of things. still, i felt disturbed by my friend's reminder about what we were going to do after college. i felt restless with the idea. is this what i'm really going to do? is this where i'm going to be placed? is this my limit?

just walking along the bench boulevard, i kept thinking, "law??? me???" i don't even know any other law besides RA 9163! and that, i had to do because of a stinking job as a student volunteer. i desperately needed someone, other than my dad, to tell me what to do. i just needed some sort of direction. yes, i needed a sign. i had needed it for so long. ever since i graduated high school, i needed to know where i was going to put myself in. not only did i want to finish my mother's ambition, but i also want to make myself a self made person. so thus i came to the idea of Law.

just when the idea escaped my mind because it was very hot outside, a man sold his old law books half price right outside the second gate of Xavier. my mother, the business woman, wanted to buy the book at 40 percent. i just told her, "ma, the book is still in good condition. just take it for what it's worth. it's more expensive inside!"

the man, who wore a red polo put his hand on my shoulder and said, "you will be a good lawyer because you have a kind spirit." i thought the man was joking! he didn't know me. i don't even know him! how would he know who i was or what kind of spirit did i have? am i really that obvious?

so my mother goes ahead and asks him, "why are you selling your books?" his face became sad and he said, "i couldn't afford the tuition anymore. so i'm selling the books for capital." imagine that! he was going to sell what he needed just to get what he wanted! and here i am, the whole world is in conspiracy to make me a lawyer, i'm even thinking twice about it? and this man, who knows what he wants, can't afford to even achieve it!

i don't know anymore what happened after that. i just couldn't keep my mind off that man and what he said. i couldn't stop thinking about it. i felt glad because i can finally grab hold of a dream. i've had so many of them, but this one, i know i can achieve. it felt so new to me to have something that is mine, and mine alone. it can't be stolen, it can't be taken from me. it's mine. and i don't even have to wish on it. i can work on it, and it's something i know i will have.

then i felt sad. i kept asking myself, hanggang dito lang ba talaga ako? but that instantly disappeared when i realized i was going to get what i wanted. i was going to reach my dream. i was going to get something i had always wanted for myself without it being the latest fad or the most wanted course. i was going to get not only a dream, but the dream.

i'm in fact right now, studying ahead of time. i know it's too soon. but you can't ever be too prepared. and besides, if it's a dream, i need to be at my best game. no foolishness when it comes to that. i'm finally going to get something that makes me happy. i'm going to get what my parents want and what i want. i'm going to accomplish my mother's dream. i'm going to be somebody. all i need is strength, perseverance, diligence and hard work.

and of course a bit of what troy bolton said, "keep your head in the game."

on bended knees

sorry to steal the title from a song, but i believe that i'd do it justice if i write something deeper and more profound. but this line in the song started with, "oh god give me a reason, i'm down on bended knees". unlike the song which tells the story of a man who is desperately trying to get over his agony (as well as himself), he goes back to the lord for comfort and wisdom.

just this morning as i was headed to liceo for my driving lesson, my father blasted the car with christian music. it was up to 16 which was very loud. i could barely hear myself think! i got so mad that i screamed at him to lower down the radio so my mom could drive properly. he then inserts himself and says "i don't understand what your saying anyway so i'm going to listen to something I enjoy!". i mean, of course it makes sense. it doesn't bother me what he listens to, what does bother me is how he constantly puts us in a position where we all want to hate him. i naturally don't care about him. i've lost my passion to continue life for my dad. and yes, i have learned to stop loving him a long time ago.

so back off, we were in the car right? so... he asks me "how many minutes do you spend for God?" i kept quiet because i already told him that everything i do is for God. i make my deeds a form of sacrifice. he then says, "see, you can't even answer me!" pissed off, i told him, "you don't get to tell me what to do! don't dictate me on how i should praise God! just because you can't control your life, it doesn't mean you should control mine!" and almost automatically, my father kept quiet.

a few minutes later, while driving out of town, i regained sanity. even though i didn't love my father, i had no right to treat him that way. even if i hated having to believe in God because that was what he constantly pinned down in my head, i still believed in him which meant it was at least in a way effective. i just hated the idea that my life was being run by a self proclaimed emperor. then i came to the idea that if i wasn't able to treat my father with respect, i wasn't doing God any good either.

it's like, there is a commandment that says, "fathers, do not provoke your children". and i have been using that as an excuse to hate my father. instead of looking for good things he has done to me, i constantly keep my eyes on his mistake and never ever forget to remember them. all i see is him trying to make me miserable. in ways it is true, he even forgets my name, but in some... it's not the case.

even when i told my father that i didn't love him anymore, he still paid for my school. he bought me a car, he wrote down our house in my name and promised me a future in the states. even when i made up reasons to hate him, he continually found reasons to love me.

i really don't love my dad. honestly, i want to live without being with him. but then again, i can't imagine my dad not being with me when i need him most.

i remember a time when i was two years old when he would take me outside to bathe me. i was too young to pronounce "kabo". he brought me outside that one afternoon. i could still remember because my mother was making salted eggs and balut for extra income and she'd always make them in the afternoon when she was done with siesta. so my dad put me on a wooden cover for the huge water tank. he didn't notice that it was already rotting because he was busy getting my soap and clean clothes. i didn't notice either since... well... i was still 2.

he went back inside the house to get what he needed for my bath which included the kabo. i was singing mandy when the wood broke in half and i fell head first into the tank full of water.


they say that at the moment before you die, you see have a flashback. my life wasn't that long so there wasn't so much to look at. all i remember was my mother holding me in her arms while making me go to sleep. i remember my dad singing, "pipay, i love you so. don't you know oh oh oh, pipay i love you so... pipay i love you so." and stuck in that upside down position, almost out of breath, lungs almost collapsing, i felt a touch on my ankle and i was pulled upward.

my dad saved me.


the same thing happened when i was four. i was following my sister and our neighbor len-len who were planning to get native guavas at the back of our small farm. they told me to stay behind, but i kept following them anyway.

we passed by a broken canal my dad demolished before because water could not pass through properly. my sisters acrobatically walked at the sides and continued to push me away. angrier and desperate to have my sister's attention, i went on following them.

i tripped on a rock and fell head first into the hole where my head hit a broken glass. the scar still is visible 'till this day. moments later, i opened my eyes to see my father holding me in his arms and my mother getting gauze and guava tea to wash my wound.


all those times i was inches away from death, my father came to the rescue. he was always ready to pull me out of deep-shit situations. and for that, i thank God for him. for every good thing he did, i bless my dad.

turning around, i saw myself. all those times, i had always been the "good child". i was the one who always got good grades, the one who never got into trouble, the one who was continually progressive. i was always the one who my parents gave everything to. i was always the one who my parents wanted to be with. and no matter how effed up things were, i was always the one they trusted. but all these titles were my choice. i didn't want to be the reason why my parents kept regretting why they made children. i didn't want to be the worst child, they already have bad ones.

but behind closed doors, they don't know who i am. i'm still the girl who has a summer ritual of trying to kill herself. i'm still the girl who wishes to get cancer just so she could die. i'm still the girl who never learns. i'm still the girl who had a child but died. i'm still the girl who feels unloved. and i'm definately still the girl who can't find her true identity.

to them, they see me as someone strong and independent. but to those who know me, they see me as someone who separates herself. i don't know why i am like this. i don't really give in to one set of friends for a long time. i always seem to run into bad reasons to stay and i always abandon them regardless if they need me or not. and i always want to be alone even if it means going away from God's light just so i could prove to everyone that i made it without anyone's help.

reflecting upon this want, it still went back to my sisters. my eldest had always been the genius, and that's not just a title i gave her. she is, literally, a genius. she was the one who knew how to spell before she could talk. she knew how to write and read. she could draw, she could dance, she could do anything except sing. my other sister was always the one who knew how to gain money. she always knew how to embezzle everyone. she was the meanest of us 3. she would make me cry on a regular basis. she could sing. and boy, she has one heck of a voice. but neither of them wanted me around during my childhood.

i would enter their room to play with them. they would push me out of their room and tell me i didn't belong there. it was just a childish thing. but i couldn't forget how my eldest said "no she's not my sister" when i called her in recess. i most especially couldn't forget when my other sister went to her friend's birthday party instead of mine. i would never forget how my sister took my lunch money because she said she already used hers to buy a yoyo. and at that time, you were the coolest kid when you had a yoyo that flashes light.

but a more mature thing came along when i was in second year high school when my sister had sex with my boyfriend. my other sister's boyfriend almost raped me but she still chose him over me and said, "starting now, you don't have me as your sister anymore." i still remember how they forced me to enter a relationship where the boy only got me drunk and raped me. and i definately remember how my sister punched me in the face in dv soria and my mother took my sister's side.unknown to them, i still bear these things in my heart. unknown to all of them, i still hurt all over again when i remember these things.

but, if i look at the positive side to what they did, they have done alot of good things to me. like my eldest teaching me algebra in grade 6. my other sister teaching me how to sing. my sisters who took me out for lunch when i had my first heart break and my sisters who celebrated with me when i graduated and was offered to school in xavier. they were the ones who saw me cry, even if sometimes they were the reason.

my family had always been the apple of discord. everything always goes wrong. but hey, they're just human. even i make mistakes, i just don't know them. i am sometimes optimistic, but there are times when i wake my mother in the middle of the night because i want to die. there are times when i broke my mother's heart when i pulled out a knife and desperately tried to cut my wrist because i felt discontented. there are times when everything is oh so wrong, but my family remains strong for me. my dad pulls me out of shitty situations, my mother takes my side whenever i need it, my sisters take me out when i'm sad (with tanduay in hand).

and through the years, they are a constant reminder to me that God exists.

confront me

i'm not one to complain about things. i shouldn't be so pessimistic. i know my place and i know i make mistakes. this is one thing i hate which always happens every damn year and every new damn friend. there is always a falling out. it's either i run out of positive things to look for in a friend, OR, i can sense being unwanted.

i'm not that numb. i admit in fact that i'm too sensitive even at times i shouldn't. and when the time calls for me to be, i don't. i act like a bitch and insult everyone in the room. i don't mind people hating me for being who i am. i wish i could change, but then again, i don't want to. but so, here goes my blog.

i'm starting to hate what this friend is doing. every time we talk, she pulls out the carpet under my feet. it's not a literal statement, but i wish you'd get the point. there are times when criticism is good. in fact, it is always best for people to keep track of their lives. but this friend of mine, it's like it's her agenda to just piss me off. she cuts me off, and then she doesn't talk at all. sometimes, i don't care whether it is intentional or not, she shuts me off. it's like if i were a blazing fire, she'd hose me down.

i know i shouldn't mind it. she wouldn't make me feel any bit of this anger and disappointment without my consent right?

so my agenda for these upcoming months is to just simply avoid her. i won't make myself prolong any agony.... enough.

unpampered spirits

christopher woke up that morning with an aching head. clearly hung over from partying all night. he rushed over to the comfort room to dispose involuntarily whatever it was he injested.





he washes his face at the sink and pauses to take a deep breath while letting the water run and drain down what he just threw up. a red but pale face looks back at him. the mirror seems to show him a very unfamiliar side of chris; a side he had always welcomed, but never progressively stood up for.





he pauses to find himself thinking about thoughts he had always wished would go away. he stands up straight and goes to the kitchen. he opens the fridge as usual and drinks a couple bottle of beers for breafast. and maybe... just maybe... he might get drunk and not think about it again.

and it has been like that for as long as everyone can remember. nobody really knows his story. everytime somebody asks him, it's either he gives a nervous laugh or an angry stare. his friends know the reason, but most have forgotten the exact details. but for him... the memories are still vivid. he still remembers his everything.

he steps out of his house everyday, find a ride to town and get drunk as usual with his usual circle of friends who are only too apathetic to see that he was not alright. and for a long time... christopher disappeared. that was when everyone panicked. this is where our story begins...

"he always seemed to have nothing wrong with him" says jade; his partner in crime. she always seemed to know everyone. she always thought she was right. she was scanning through old scrapbooks and photo albums. there, the distant smile of christopher seemed real enough to touch.

"does he have anyone he might have gone to?" asked hazel, the concerned yet forgotten friend. everyone hated her because she always wanted to talk things out. people didn't like her because she was always the first to get drunk and first to leave. jade, sweet and stain turn their heads away from her and ignore her.

"what really happened?" asked sweet who was scratching her head in confusion. she was always the pretty one and the one who every one wanted to be with. stain turned his head to her and started his version of christopher's story.

"he loved her before. she was always there. every single day. but he fell in-love with someone else" he started. stain was always half-right with his stories.

"girl or boy?" asked lyris, the youngest of the group. she was the one who knew everything, but was as closed as a clam.

"ha ha! what a question!" said jade. she slammed the books shut and joined stain and sweet laughing. lyris simply looked back at hazel who was clearly insulted by their ignorance.

"does he have anyone he might have gone to?" asked lyris who noticed the question was left unanswered. jade paused to think and eventually lied down in despair and speachlessness. her eyes were staring at the ceiling.

"pour me a cup of coffee." stain told hazel. she stood up without a sound or any form of violent reaction. lyris went with her and talked things over.

"how could this happen?" whispered sweet who was devastated by his disappearance.

hazel came back with a cup of coffee in her hand while lyris brought the sugar and cream. stain snapped his fingers and hazel passed it to him.

"did anyone check his house?" hazel asked who was busy attending to the refreshments but still keeping her mind on the topic. jade rolled her eyes and ignored the question. stain just gave an arrogant laugh while sweet remained speachless. she had noticed everyone ignoring her every question.

"since when did this happen?" asked lyris. jade sat straight up from lying down and lit a cigarette.

"i don't know. he last called me a week ago. but that was all i heard from him." she said and she blew smoke from her nose.

"well... what did he say?" asked sweet who stood up and sat next to her. she needed to hear this.

"well... i was drunk. i could barely remember. all i do remember is him saying that he'll be fine." she said. she rested her head on sweet's lap and tried to close her eyes and survive the hang over.

"where could he be?" lyris asked herself. everyone sat down to think. hazel had a clue where he weant... but she knew that as soon as she opened her mouth, everyone would discard everything she says whether it was the truth or a hunch.

"have we tried looking near the beach? he might just be there" said hazel. jade opened her eyes to think and sat straight up again.

"can you please shut up? that is such a stupid idea! why would he go there? he would most likely go to a place where we never would think to find him!" she screamed at hazel. lyris sat beside hazel and carressed her back as hazel swallowed her pride and kept quiet. she obviously felt insulted, but tolerated it.

"jade... just stop being so hostile." said lyris who was trying to comfort hazel.

"who are you to dictate me?" she barked. "get me a glass of water!" she demanded from hazel. she stood up and did it anyway. although she didn't know anymore why, but she kept that circle of friends.

"jade. stop being so harsh." said lyris who was noticing the tension getting hotter by the second.

"you're just my little sister!" she said. hazel who was inside the kitchen heard the screaming and backsassing.

"i'm going guys." said hazel who everyone ignored.

"there you go. you always leave whenever we need you most!" shouted jade. hazel seemed insulted by her remark when in fact... all of them made her want to leave. lyris only softened the impact of their incessant insults.

"what do you need me for? you don't listen to me!" she said and stood up. she aimed to storm out of the room and leave them for good. lyris held her arm in a desperate attempt to not make the situation grow worse.

"who would want to listen to you?" said stain who gave an insulting laughter. lyris felt hazel's arm stiffen and it grew hotter. her fists were anticipating a punch but she was well aware about her dignity and she respected all of them.

"stop it." said marie. stain's girlfriend. she came in from the door behind hazel. everyone turned around in surprise. her eyes were sore and swollen.

"love" called stain affectionately and kissed her cheek. she rejected the kiss and sat down with hazel who was now sitting at the counter; trying to recover herself.

"you sit here and think that this will help christopher." she began. she was about to begin the sermon that would make them behave rationally again.

"christopher's gone and the best you can do is speculate where he could be? jade... you were too drunk to realize that chris was trying to commit suicide. stain, you were too busy making hazel look like a fool to realize what he was about to do. and sweet, you were too busy having fun with those boys to realize that he sent 10 messages because he needed someone to talk to!" she pointed out. jade, the overconfident spawn of the devil refuted.

"and where were you? you think you're so innocent!" she screamed. silence struck the room as marie's eyes bursted into tiny bitter tears. she kept her posture straight and firm, "i was with my mother. she died that night."

jade took a step back in embarrassment. hazel didn't look around to see if any of them were surprised. she wasn't. she knew about it. but she never told a sould since...well... nobody cared what she said.

"i'm sorry marie" came out lyris' quiet voice.

"do you know where christopher is?" asked hazel. marie turned around to face her and nodded.

"where is he?" asked hazel.

"where do you think?" said marie. hazel pondered around for a few minutes in silent contemplation.

the psychic instructor

today, my driving instructor was sir adonis. it was just like yesterday with kuya arbie except that i was much more comfortable with him because of his charm and that helped ease the nerves of a novice. it was my first time yesterday to drive on the highway so speeding was one of my main concerns as well as signals and clutch-break-gas decisions.

today however, i drove things more than just a car. i drove myself into a never ending spiral of confusion and obscurity and eventually... insanity. i could not think whether i should pursue my friend and classmate or my crush for almost two school years.

it hit me when i was driving uphill to lumbia airport which was a 10 minute drive from my house and a 30 minute drive from bulua. hanging on to my thoughts as entertainment while driving; i came across the thought of her smile. it was the one she had given me in sociology class when i got my hair fixed and her hand accidently caressed my chin. the feeling of soft and unsure comfort; everything was so fresh even if it happened once in the previous semester. that memory should be buried along with every wrong and right feeling i had. then almost suddenly, my instructor pulled the break extension at the passenger's side.

"whatever it is you're thinking about, don't" he said casually. i was unsure whether he could read minds or that my thoughts somehow didn't stay in a thought bubble.

partially, i would have just told him to drive the car for me and let me go home. i didn't want to drive anymore. until he said, "pull over here". i stopped the car at his demand and he let out a thunder of laughter. it might have been because i was not thinking about the road, i was thinking about both of them at the same time. whichever i was going to choose then could be my only shot at happiness.

but after talking things over with my long time crush and current boyfriend, it was one of those things i could have just left behind. i could have just told him it was over despite of his pleading and his evident change. i could have pulled the breaks, but i couldn't. weakness? maybe... stupidity? surely.

he held my hand under a huge mango tree. i felt so sure the words to let him go would escape my mouth. instead i asked him if i would ever see him again. it was so hard to let him go because the only attention i ever wanted from anyone was right there and i didn't have to beg or cry for it. it was just handed to me for free. that kind of love is hard to find.

i don't know sincerely if my friend was right that because i'm discontent with my family, i'm looking for some other source of my emotional necessities. i don't know even if it crossed her mind that i'm desperate. but surely, i'm not strong enough to let him go yet. and i have not owned my classmate so i could let her go. either way, one of them has to mean something to me. i had to choose today; myself, the man i waited for for two years, or my not so close friend ever since national service training program.

i read somewhere that a confused heart is so much harder to teach than a confused mind. the mind can simply aquire knowledge and validity in the data through books. but the heart is unteachable. it is the only stubborn thing in the body which, when targetted, goes to where there is hurt and which the heart hurts about something because it means something to the heart. mindlessly, i chose to use my heart in more than 100 ways. all were a failure.

this is by far my most uncomfortable experience ever and i regret ever entering this. but whenever i get out of this, i'm sure i will learn a thing or two. hopefully, it won't take long.

how to mend a broken heart

“honey…” she tried to confront him. He turned to his phone that was ringing incessantly.

“I need to take this. Just a minute honey” he promised. Her tears were falling back as he turned his back on her and talked to his gadget. People around her beamed at her while she tried to wait for chris to come back.

“would you like more wine miss?” asked the waiter while showing her a bottle of red wine. She had not taken notice of the label and quickly said “yes” to ease her nerves.

“I’m so sorry honey. That was my boss.” He said. It had seemed as though he had forgotten why they were out for dinner that night. It even seemed as though he had forgotten that they had been together for 5 years. It was their anniversary.

“honey. I need to tell you something” she said. Just then the waiter came from the kitchen with a dish on both hands for each of them.

“oh good. Dinner is here” he said in relief. Her eyes were getting heavier and heavier as the waiter flicked his match and soon enough her dish was blazing in fire.

“isn’t this great honey. Just you and me… no work for a week.” He said happily. He was clearly unaware of her staring at him and waiting for him to listen to her even when she was not talking. He fixed his table napkin on his lap and he got his knife and fork and cut through the steak he had just gotten from the waiter.

“honey.” She attempted again.

“what?” he said. His hands were each holding a utensil and were resting on the white table cloth.

“I’m…” she started before she was clearly interrupted by the phone call chris got again.

“I’m sorry honey. Let me take this.” He excused himself and got up again.

Her food stopped burning and she ate quietly her chicken. The food was great but the flavor was washed away by her tears that were flowing down. She ate while waiting for him to come back again.

“miss. Are you okay?” asked the table beside her. She nodded in denial and continued eating. The old couple beside her handed a handkerchief.

“your husband doesn’t know what he has here.” Said the old man in black suit. she stiffened her upper lip and waited for him to come back again.

“honey.” She said as soon as he sat down.

“I’m so glad that was over. Let’s eat now.” He invited. He had just forgotten that she was going to tell him something. She put her fork and knife together at the right side of her plate. She wasn’t finished with dinner yet, but she was through with him.

“honey.” She started again.

“aren’t you going to eat?” he asked ignoring what she had to say. He kept on chewing incessantly his steak which he kept remarking as “superb!”

“no.” she said.

“we should get a doggy bag. Maybe you’d like to finish later” he said. She put her hands together and just kept crying. He didn’t notice her until the waiter handed over the desserts.

“honey!” he exclaimed in worry. “is the food here that bad?” he ignorantly asked.

“honey. it’s not that anymore.” she started to tell him it was over and she was leaving him for good; pregnant or not. his phone beeped again. he flipped open his phone in excitement.

“honey look. My friends invited us over this weekend to the beach.” He inserted again. he got up again and quickly dialed his friend’s number while she was left again.

Realizing that she’d never be worth anything to chris, she stood up and he came back after seeing her about to leave.

“honey. not here.” He whispered embarrassingly. He had just noticed every couple in the area glaring at him. She opened her purse and slammed $300 to his chest.

“here’s my share for tonight” she said. He was just starting to realize the brevity of the moment.

“honey. I can pay for tonight” he giggled. He rested his arm behind her and tried to encourage her to sit down again.

“you didn’t hesitate to pay for tonight. But you also didn’t hesitate to make me your option chris.” She said bluntly and she stormed out of the restaurant. Every glaring eye turned away and noise came back from each table. They all resumed talking about things he never paid attention to.

he pulled out a box from his pocket and opened his diamond ring for her. with regret; he closed his tiny box of dreams and sat back down and ate dinner by himself.