from bliSSfuLLyinLov (PEX)

“The Invitation” by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

billet doux 022003…testimony of one great love

lost loves…didn’t we all have one?  a relationship gone bad…a love unreturned…whatever the case may be…we once have gotten our hearts broken–but at the end of the day, there are always memories to look back on…an old love letter that spoke of great love…a dried rose petal that reminds you of days when everything in your life is abloom…

of all the letters i’ve received–some of which i have burnt, some, i wickedly edited…there are just those that never fail to bring a smile back to my heart…here’s one, read on:

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Writing to you has always been an emotional narrative focused upon the deepest of my feelings. Have no literary or philosophical merit but I hope I’m able to deliver a compelling message of how significant you are to me. In writing so, I always wanted to convey to you a concrete way of showing that my life now holds a potential meaning because of you. In just months of sharing experiences with you, everything leads me to the beauty of a stronger man I could ever be. Being with you doesn’t mean I’m powerful and I’ve conquered the world, rather, it makes me feel I am a fragile human being encompassing with life every time. And I’m always inspired. We’re like cats and dogs but we always find something to hold on to…love? I guess it’s faith where love flows. I remember when we had our first conversation on the line, I could not sit down! I started pacing and was really nervous. But as we go on keeping in touch, I could see your apprehension and love. Roumela, you’re always available to me in any circumstance. It’s not your fault that you’re still hesitant to take me into your life—really take me. Maybe for the reason that you can’t keep your feelings moving yet. Not with me. Everything’s not easy, but you are willing to just be there for me. Thank you. Forever I’ll be grateful of knowing you. In my dreams I wish to be riding with you in a carousel, our hearts tied in circles, the constellation’s there for us to watch it forever. Beautiful thread of thoughts! For dreams, like happiness, cannot be pursued—it must ensue. And it only does so as the unintended side effect of one’s personal dedication to his feelings and if the cause is greater than oneself. Happiness must happen, and the same holds for my dreams. I have to let it happen by not caring about it. I just want to listen to what my heart commands me to do and go on to carry it out to the best. Loving you, Roumela, validates my sense of life, of knowing both sides of it. And it’s warm and wonderful! When I’m with you, I am filled with joy and hope. One can clearly see the amazing transformation that took place since I’ve known you. All my compositions speak poignantly of the meaning of my life now and how loving you is the greatest force in my existence has become. In all your messages and the countless little acts of love you’ve shown have been set permanently in my heart. And I will continue to live on with a smile knowing that all you’ve been to me changed my ordinary life to extra-happy one! And today, there is a mounting expectation of a hopeful tomorrow. Today, there is a need to allay fears, sow understanding, provide faith, nurture feelings and strengthen love! I long to see the day when I can visit you at your home and personally thank you for everything you have amazingly engineered in my life. If you will pardon the expression, ‘take a heart’ that day may not be long in coming…or may never come at all. Then my heart will always understand. You changed my life and in the process, you changed all of me! You touched my life and in so doing, I really wanna thank you. Loving you is so transforming, knowing you is a blessing. And blessings don’t just come and go. But one thing is for sure, one must have orchestrated the event of bumping into your world. Someone must have led up to this symphony. Someone must have listened to my heart’s music. Truly, that someone is the sound of heaven. And now, you linger…you’re like a good music, your sound continues to capture a heart. Its lilt is easy to pick up. Your presence leaves behind an eloquent testimony of hope. And I will never be afraid again to give myself but rather, go on with a life that has no boundaries for others, a trusting heart to even the strangest. And I will continue to extend myself and expand my love for you unconditionally. I will be all-embracing, I will continue and shall keep on loving you. You will be my clutch. Your honest concern, your unwillingness to give up everytime we’re on the edge. I could do no less, Roumela. As long as my heart still beats, love proportionately beats just as strongly. People normally clutch at straws, I hold on to you—fiercely and determinedly. And I will continue to love and smile because of you. My perspective always holds a future, and I see you as part of my tomorrows. This is one silent, tacit belief that I will continue to always be there for you. I know I still have many more miles to go with you, but I know I’ll pass it all unscathed. I therefore look at us now with bright optimism and a firm resolve that love and goodness are meant to be shared. We just have to open our eyes and heart to find life’s true meaning—and true end. Je’taime.

love, erwin

8-11

it was raining so hard when i got up the morning of august 11. i went to bed at around 2am after cleaning the house–for months now, i’ve been coming home to a filthy house.  our ecru-tiled home which used to be oh-so-pristine and spotless during the becca era has become a candidate for ’slobs-live-here’ hall of fame. anyway, i got up kinda late that fateful thursday, at around 6:45–so if you knew me too well, you would have perfectly guessed that i arrived at the office at around 9:45.  it takes me an average of 3 hours to take a bath, bitch around, get dressed and find my way to the office every single morning.  when i got to the office, the normal routine began–turned on my pc, bought breakfast, ate while chatting with papa roger, lo and tuneng, did some proofreading, went online–checked my mails, chatted with the ‘captain’ and spent the whole day either tinkering with my hp or blogging–in between writing short copies here and there.  you got to love my job (on the downside, i think it’s starting to rot my brain).  then came 4pm–the time my tummy usually screams either burger or nai cha.  i picked up my hp just when lo got in and said that pasong tamo is starting to get flooded as usual.  so, like a damsel in distress, i texted my knight in shining armor–who i just happened to kiss and make up with the night before after a terrible fight over a lackluster ‘monthsary’–’habi, u home?’  no reply.  so i got off my seat and dialled his home number.  ‘habi, sundo mo ko?’–there was a long pause.  5…6..10…15 seconds.  then i got the all-too-familiar ‘uhmm…ha?’ plus a long yawn. true to form, i didn’t waste a second dishing out a deadly reply–with seething calmness i retorted, ‘it’s okay.  never mind. sleep ka na.’  i didn’t have a problem with the yawning.  i did have a problem with his being insensitive–it’s raining hard, we just made up after a bad fight and he had just given me his word that he’d be ‘more sensitive’ to my needs, he didn’t do anything special two days before, on our 34th month as a couple, i never ask him to fetch me unless it would be extremely hard for me to get home by myself because the area is threatening to get flooded and when my migraine’s starting to make me want to go to church and confess all my sins before i hit the eternal sack.the least he could have done is said yes if only to make ‘bawi‘ for everything he failed to do days before.–so, long story cut short–my temperature reached boiling point.  i was mad. aghast. disappointed.  i texted my girlfriends and ranted.  but i was still a little calm and collected.  then, at 4:55 came this message:  ‘habi, pa-mrt na ko, wait mo ko sundo na kita.’  that could have made me beam the widest but hell it did not.  it only propelled my anger even more.  why on earth did i have to get angry first before he do something like that?  he is going to fetch me–that’s what he decided to do–but only because he knew i’m already fuming mad.  otherwise, he would have gone back to bed.  my point is, any man would have instinctively given up sleep to fetch his gf in the middle of a typhoon.  but him–i had to get really mad first before he gives in.  and wanting him to fetch me is not a whim at all–i happen to be a very independent woman.  i can go home alone and fend for myself–but at that time, i was kinda different.  the situation calls for a ‘knight in shining armor’ rescue.  but hell–I HAVE TO GET MAD FIRST. that’s what made my blood leave my head in disgust.  so, after teeth-gnashing and banging my things here and there, i fixed myself and told everyone that i’ve to get out of there the soonest time possible before he arrives.  i just don’t want to see him.  i’m way too angry to be civil.  i turn barbaric when i’m mad.  but lo and behold!  right there at the gate was my not so ‘chivalrous’ knight–smiling at me like he had done the most gallant thing to do.  i turned to face him and slyly said, ‘umuwi ka na.’  but instead of saving himself from my wretched ire, he followed me around begging for forgiveness.  that would have melted any girl’s heart but not this one’s.  when i’m mad, i’m mad.  you need to retreat to a corner and just let me dwell on my anger.  i blow my top easily but my anger subsides just as quickly when i am left alone.  we’ve been together three years and he knows me too well.  but that rainy afternoon he was just way too pesky for comfort.  so i blew it.  when we got to the corner of buendia and pasong tamo, i was already begging him to leave–trying as hard as i could to suppress my anger.  but he just wouldn’t leave.  i’ve done everything to get rid of him–pushed him, yelled at him, called another guy–everything to spite him and make him leave me alone.  but to no avail.  we hailed a jeepney together to taft avenue.  once there, i told him–’go now.  once i get a cab i’ll leave you alone, so please? we’re over! go!’ but he was relentless.  he kept following me.  until i spotted a cab…i had it in my head–with clockwork precision, i opened the front door and reached for the back door–and locked it!  got in and sat beside the driver as i saw him step back in defeat. i was osama bin laden reincarnate.  i pulled it.  got rid of my knight.  it took a while before it sank in–what i did was purely evil.  but anger outweighed my remorse.  i went home feeling sorry for him but pleased with my wicked self.  this will teach him a lesson, i said to myself.  9…10…1…2am.  sleep was evasive.  guilt was overwhelming.  i hated him the night before.  and i swear i meant it when i said ‘we’re over’.  but today, it dawned on me…i love him too much to let him go just like that.  i did not waste time and texted him…begged for forgiveness and prayed that there’ll be no more typhoon that could flood pasong tamo and make my twisted mind flush my 3-year old relationship down the drain.  we’re okay again. sunshiny bright days ahead. the ‘horror’ of 8-11 gone.  i have a saint for a boyfriend. thank heavens for that. 

3B Emmanuel House

While it was drizzling last Thursday, I got myself a cab ride from dela rosa to greenbelt 3 to meet a friend. I dunno if it has something to do with the weather but I caught myself lost in thought–then there it was–a feeling of nostalgia enveloped me. I caught a glimpse of what I had called my ‘home’ close to three years ago…a ‘home’ filled with memories…blissful and poignant… I pictured how it was then…from the time we moved there to the time we said goodbye. It was our ‘home’—a home we all loved…a home we’ll never forget. I stared longingly at the 4-storey edifice like a lonely child—with tears starting to fill my eyes. I scoffed at myself for being overly dramatic but I dwelt on the moment just the same… The faces of people who’ve touched my life while I was in that ‘home’ at ‘that’ time made me smile…flashed before me were scenes of yesteryears–the laughter, the tears…the little triumphs, the little defeats…the friendships, the ties…my Fremantle family—oh, how I missed them. How I missed getting off the cab each morning greeted with the warm smiles of ‘manong’ guards at the lobby. The usual elevator rides with my habi—stolen kisses here and there. I missed the sound of my 3-inch pumps as I walk inside the office. I missed lunch bought from either Big Brother’s or Brother’s Jolly Jeep. I missed Mara’s ‘Good morning, miss Mel!’ as her jolly face emerges from the green divider. I missed Rozhe and our conniving schemes to unearth our respective boylets’ secrets. I missed Karla’s wicked stare as she sends me back my incriminating missent messages the night before. I missed Iggy’s curt comments from the corner. I missed Ivy’s powerpuff girl get-up. I missed Onel’s fatherly ‘kamanyakan’. I missed Dexter and our trip to kebab. I missed Toni and her reckless driving. I missed Teri’s ensaymada and how she sides with Darwin when we fight. I miss Sir Rolly’s subdued naughty jokes. I missed Ma’am Fe’s very commanding yet motherly presence. I missed Ma’am Susan’s graciousness—her timeless beauty keeps me obsessing on how to age gracefully. I missed riding with Kuya Joel while he plays ‘Afro Man’. I missed talking to Kuya Lando about my dad’s drinking sprees. I missed ‘Gob’ and his chuckle. I missed Gabby and his being attentive to us during tapings. I missed Roger and his cleaning my desk. I missed Arlene’s loud and infectious laughter. I missed my daily dose of ‘chismis’ from Matel. I missed ‘my son’ Paul’s thoughtfulness. I missed my sisters Mavic and Tom—Mavic and I’s kikay moments and Tom and I’s trips to café Ago-go. I missed Bulate’s KF stories. I missed mother Jet’s caring pieces of advice. I missed Papa R’s ‘kalaswaan’—the stolen kisses and the hugs—and his prank caller! I missed David’s friendship. Heck, I missed Gavin and Patrick too. I missed Darwin and his text messages from across the room. I missed how we snuggle at the stairs when no one is looking (or so we thought)! I missed the way we worked as a team. I missed the petty arguments. I missed the teasings and our little shenanigans… I missed PIR and Family Feud. I missed everything and everyone. And as the white Nissan Patrol in front of us started to move forward, I gave Emmanuel House one last look—wiped my tears and smiled, as long as it’s there—the memories remain.

harry potter and the missing cross (pen)

a few weeks back-or has it been a month now?-i asked a favor from a very dear friend.  actually it wasn’t a FAVOR ‘favor’–rather it was more of a ‘lambing’.  like any other harry potter fan this side of the world, i had wanted to get myself a copy of the newest HP book–‘Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.’  so, texted my dearest guyfriend, i did.  ’sweetie, can i make lambing? buy me the latest Harry Potter book please?’  and as expected–i got a nod from him, ’sure i will’– said he.

so i waited and waited. two days passed–no confirmation. and out of the blue i got a message at 3am, barely 5 minutes after i’ve finally felt the urge to sleep. ’send me back my pen first.’  with eyes half-open i reread the message about thrice–‘pen? what pen?’ then i fell back asleep.  the next morning, i remembered what he was talking about.  it’s the cross pen he left with me when he was here last year.  a pen with his name on it–‘cesar p. heraldo’, it reads. searched for the pen in my drawers, my bags–everywhere in our very messy room.  my hair was already as big and messed up as hagrid’s when i finally stopped searching. didn’t find it. with dumbledore’s patented calmness i picked up my phone and texted–’sweetie, i couldn’t find it sorry.’ i figured he’d be mad but he wasn’t–or so i thought.  days passed. one week, two weeks, three–still no book.  friendster messages ignored.  chikka texts unanswered.  so i finally conceded. i’m no longer gonna get the book.  i lost his pen so, no book for me.  that simple. i’m aghast now. disappointed. the brat in me resurfaced.  oh, how my toes curled in anger when i couldn’t get what i want!  i texted him again, this time no longer calm and collected–i was like dolores umbridge on the warpath against harry–‘don’t send me the book anymore, i’ll buy one for myself. i forgot you’re ******* now, you’ve more important priorities to attend to than buying me a silly book!’ he replied, ‘that’s unfair! where’s my pen?’ ‘i said i couldn’t find it!’ and there we were all grown up but fighting over the wizard and a pen.

rowling’s ‘half-blood prince’ is the sixth book in the harry potter series.  our friendship is on its  10th year now.  in two years time, book 7 will be released.  in two weeks time i wonder if we’d start talking again, or texting at least. i’m missing my friend. maybe i should just get him a new cross pen–with inscription: the half-blood prince and the missing cross (pen).

peace na tayo, sweetie?