Unrequited

From my Tumblr

I stared at the white, textured walls and felt that ongoing tug in my chest as you stood next to me.

I couldn’t deny that there seemed to be more to what we had and signed up for, something unspoken and not completely acknowledged. It was more than just the effortless and giddy vibes, the thoughtful gifts and meaningful conversations that ranged from playful to stimulating.

You were helping me become a better person. And the more I was with you the less fearful I was of my capability to love someone again.

But I suppose that bliss was only short-lived. Although I was never a hundred percent sure with you, or with anyone for that matter, I knew that what I’ve been feeling for you then was something I wanted to fight for and eventually did, even if you didn’t want to anymore. But I couldn’t complain because I was never yours and you were never mine.

I can’t deny the cracks you’ve caused and the bright streams of light that managed to make its way through the wall I’ve constantly built. That’s what I held on to, no matter how much I knew that it was better to live our lives apart as two people who have different paths and different dreams, people who needed to grow on their own.

In that defining moment, I couldn’t utter the words, asking you to stay with me. I couldn’t look at your sore and sad eyes and I couldn’t watch you eventually walk away. I turned around, closed my eyes and emitted tears because I knew you wouldn’t be there anymore.

Something got lost along the way when your priorities changed, as if I was no longer one of them. And I knew that I could no longer take the feeling of neglect and unrequited compromise. I could no longer believe that I mattered enough.

Even then, I won’t ever regret placing myself in a position of ambiguity and taking another chance because I knew you were worth it.

As I stood by that isolated corner, I felt the winds tease the strands of my hair. I took a deep breath, set aside the hurt for a moment and whispered words of gratitude. Thank you for being with me and for making me realize why it is only right to let go.

My last letter to the boy in the ocean

From http://itiswrittenforyou.files.wordpress.com

We find ourselves alone again.

But before we completely swim in different directions, I’d like to let you know a few things.

I’m sorry we weren’t able to take our much-awaited adventures together. I’m sorry we sailed when the tides weren’t in cadence and I’m sorry I had to make a choice, for fear of us both getting stuck among stormy skies and roaring waves.

Thank you for understanding, appreciating and accepting my prune-like fingers. For watching the skies change with me. For loving and marveling at how the sunlight seeps through the ocean surface, and tangles the curves of our bodies so perfectly. For reminding me that the depth we were submerged in and the saltiness of the water was, at one point, actually harmless. For soothing me and keeping me warm when I felt chills from the water’s sudden or random change of temperature.

Thank you for guiding me as I stepped off the shore despite the grave uncertainties and possible dangers you knew were in store for us.

As I plunge deeper, explore further, and eventually find solace and be at peace with the ocean’s foreign entities I once knew, I would silently pray and be grateful for meeting the boy who helped me learn how to breathe underwater. I’m learning again.

And even though I couldn’t join you or even allow you to compromise the kind of voyage you deserve, I’m glad I didn’t drift away, even when I had multiple chances to.

I really did enjoy my stay and I hope you did too.

I hope you never forget that whether we do it together or apart, the ocean is still ours to conquer.

The white lady I saw in my room

From digplanet.com

This is a story I wish was just something I imagined. But as much as it was chilling, it was real.

It was about 2 o’clock in the morning and I couldn’t sleep. All was silent. The lights in the house were turned off and everyone was asleep. I went downstairs to keep myself preoccupied. Hours after, as I was back inside my room, I noticed that oddly enough, the fan was open, contrary to me turning it off before I left.

As I laid on my bed and settled in, I couldn’t shake off this bad feeling seeping in my chest. I involuntarily scanned the room and noticed a figure standing several steps away from my bed. Faintly illuminated by the light shining through my bedroom window, I stared at the faceless woman in the white dress, whose hair was jet black, stiff and long.

My body immediately froze. Everything was then eerily silent and the air turned stiff, like all the particles in the air suddenly vanished. Something prickled my skin, and I felt like I was robbed of breath.

I shut my eyes, feeling my heart suddenly pounding through my chest and goose bumps engulfing me. I heard myself say, “Our Father in heaven, holy be thy name… Please give her peace. Lord, please make her go away.” over and over again. I couldn’t open my eyes, for fear that she was still there, possibly inches away from my face, and I couldn’t turn around and find a more comfortable position, for fear that she was beside me.

I kept counting the seconds until I finally opened my eyes. She was gone.

I jerked and stared into the darkness. I continued to breathe heavily as I mustered enough strength to rush to my sister’s bed and lay next to her. Shaking uncontrollably, with tears forming in my eyes, I told her what I saw.

Although my back was soothed and my mouth was hydrated with a glass of lukewarm water, I kept shivering. My eyes were wide open for fear that she would come back. Every sound I heard – the thud of the bedside drawer, the rustling of the leaves and the clattering of the pots and pans in the kitchen – frightened me.

“Please don’t make her come back. Please don’t make her come back,” I mustered to myself.

Paranoia took a hold of me as I continued to survey the room and constantly stare at the vacant corner where she stood, before I finally drifted off to sleep.

She wasn’t anything close to a shadow or floating, transparent entity. She was real, like a body I could touch. I was sure it wasn’t someone I knew, or someone I’ve lost.

Seeing her and her figure etched in my memory will make me think of creatures that roam and choose their victims, possibly anyone different enough to see things, or anyone who would coincidentally be awake at such an inconvenient hour.

How I floated in the dead space

From my Tumblr

It is about two o’clock in the morning. I am down to the last few words on the final page of a book I have deeply fallen in love with.

As I place the hardbound cover on the unmade sheets of my bed, I stare at the bland ceiling and the barrenness becomes more enchanting than it otherwise claims itself to be.

Something is tugging my sides yet I have not the faintest idea what it exactly is. Words seemed to form and erupt from the dusty, forgotten corners of the room and float in the dead space. It’s as if the world has a message for me. I start dreaming of things I don’t want to remember and things that I find most meaningful.

In the dim of the yellow light, I observe the stillness of my shadow and wonder how much of life I’ve learned about and how much I’ve yet to see. I get up, look out the window and see that the world is asleep, but I have never felt more alive, aware of how everything feels so heavy.

I don’t know what I’m trying to say or what my mind is capable of, yet I want to scream it to anybody who would understand. I feel disturbed as I am dealing with something I cannot fully comprehend, at least not at this very moment, or maybe at least not anytime soon. I’m floating in this space filled with much loss and uncertainty; in a world of maybe’s and probably’s.

Stuck in a trance, I shut my eyes, feel the lines on my face form, and try to drift off in peace and let the space engulf me.

He took me out for a swim

From my Tumblr

In a deserted area where the white sand gleamed under the heat of the young sun, our hearts were basking in a feeling we thought we had forgotten.

You looked at me with your half-opened eyes, took out your hand and said, “Let’s go.”

Thoughts lingered to a figure on the shore that was watching the tides roll by as they tickled her prune-like toes. But beneath the roaring of the wind and the explosion of the waves, I held on. I did not know where we were and how we were able to wade in the deep, but I was rattled by the need to drift away.

You stopped, wondered and asked if I could make it further, but I stared at the emptiness below my feet and I was unable to say anything.

Then I realized that although the horizon seemed terrifying and the vastness distant, I would look at you and adore how the water trickled from your fingertips and your eyelashes. I would whisper a "thank you" as the warmth of your hands comforted the dampness of mine after I told you how I felt about you. I would lean on your shoulder, look up at the clear sky, and close my eyes as I felt your hot breath and soft kisses on my forehead.

In that moment, all we had were the ocean bed and the painted hues changing above us as we watched the sun fall and rise, and fall and rise to the unknown.

.

As the time passed, I no longer felt the need to return to the land I once found refuge in. I stared at the horizon, looked away and marveled at the elegance of the waves beneath me.

I was surprised by this strong desire to stay longer than usual in between the barren shore and deep waters, and learn how to swim in both the stillness and rapidity. I happily waded and decided to plunge below the trenches at a different time when the skies would be much clearer and when I was braver and more skilled to tackle the waves.

In between dreams and consciousness

From ~sk8erteck's Deviantart account

I close my eyes and the sound continues to tickle my ears. As I fall asleep, everything suddenly becomes mute. I feel paralyzed, living somewhere between dreaming and being awake. The light streaming from the blinds that are gracefully swaying by the glass window wakes me up. I feel the crinkled sheets and smell traces of you. I lay my head on the worn out pillows and stare at the tiny specks that are floating in the air and dancing with the rays. With the time unnoticed and the world so still, I have never felt calmer.

If I fall in love with you, you will never die

From my Tumblr

Late at night or early in the morning, when my thoughts are in a colorless and hazy void, I will think of you. I will remember how your eyes told me the things you couldn’t say. I will remember how time spent with you easily flowed, time spent in a far off area that still felt like home to me. I will remember your stride, your pursed lips and your innocent kisses, the echoes of your laugh, the subtle lines on your face, the faint smell of your hair and the shape of your fingernails.

You will always will be that star hidden among the midnight clouds, the slight ripple in a calm sea, or the drop of rain in the humid air.

Whether or not we share some remaining parts of our lives together, if I fall in love and explore the deepest and darkest trenches with you, you will never die.

Take a trip

Photo by Kevin Prudon

Little adventures in places with hidden wonders.

The bright hues were beginning to darken. Lights from honking vehicles, lamp posts and nearby shops soon showcased, guiding our curious feet, interested minds and wandering eyes. Several lanterns hung above us, even banners with complex-looking Chinese characters.

Smells of incense, sweat, fried food, fruits being sold in vendors’ carts, aftermaths of light rain and traces of the day’s heat were irresistible. The flavors of Chinese noodles and other quite foreign, truly authentic delicacies danced around in my mouth. My palette was on fire.

Different sounds rung in my ears. Horses’ hooves attached to quaint kalesas cackling along the pavement, engines of cars and motorcycles, mixed and mostly heightened voices of people in contact.

And of course, there was the best kind of company. Thoughts were expressed, antics were shared, and warm memories were made.

Take trips in areas that you haven’t explored, with people who share the same passions you do. It soothes the soul. Or something like that.

Near-death experience

From my Tumblr

"If you close your eyes right before the train hits, your brain will think that you have died. Some people find calmness in this."

As I did so, I literally felt a tug somewhere, which honestly caught me by surprise. For a split second, I was in a trance, yet aware of M83's sultry tunes still playing in the background. I did feel calm, sort of peaceful, at one point.

But I couldn't keep my eyes closed long enough. I felt goosebumps and breathed heavily. I was surprised that I was able to bear, if not anticipate the feeling of knowing that I was still sitting in my room, seeing my art materials scattered on my bed, the racks of hanged pieces in my closets, and the MS Word tabs open, containing information needed for a news article I'm currently working on.

Sometimes you need this sort of push to realize that you are actually capable of finding further motivation for whatever it is in your life that may have kept you at standstill. There are things that require your engrossment, effort and existence. I realized that I am still more than willing to undergo all that before my time ends.

So I was pleased to find out that I could never completely lose that sense of wonder or that sense of faith, despite its occasional and often severe dwindling. Eventually, I would find solutions and answers, if I would let myself do so, or better yet, if I would keep moving and find whatever that is for myself.

What a fairy tale

Photo from Betolandia's Flickr account 

Every girl wants to be a princess.

We all dream of wearing that diamond tiara, looking extra pretty every morning as we get our hair and make-up done and select from the widest array of gowns, shoes, and expensive jewelry. We can’t help wanting to be fawned over by millions, and of course, meet the most gorgeous Prince Charming, fall madly in love with each other, marry him, and live in the hugest, grandest castle in the midst of grassy lands occupied by extra friendly woodland creatures.

But no one said anything about what’s in store for us in the real world.

There are times when we unwillingly go through the day with bed hair gnarling our faces, or legs looking like that of gorillas’. We take a look at our tiny closets and wear sweatpants because nothing else fits or the rest of the prettiest clothes we own have already been worn. We walk along the streets, one face among a million others. We’re no special.

Or when we do feel special, our hearts get shattered; we feel abandoned and we shield ourselves for fear of the unknown. We deal with flaws and society’s never-ending demands and unreachable standards. We scrape our pockets for money to get us by, because nothing is ever enough. Everyday scenarios depict the opposite of what we wanted; the world, as it seems, is far from ideal. Sometimes, we don’t even think it’s possible to cope with the wicked world we once dreamed of being perfect.

Life, as it turns out, isn't the fairy tale we've always thought was meant for us.

But even if it isn’t at all glamorous, and even if we leave traces of broken hearts as we go by, we still have the courage to wish upon those gleaming stars hidden beneath the darkest skies. As we keep our masks on, there’s that hope of sparkling beauty in the midst of all that is treacherous, no matter how cynical we turn out to be because of what the world puts us through.

I guess at some point, we all wanted the life of a princess. But we’ve learned to embrace reality and all its imperfections, shield the wicked witches, find the pair that fits, and write our own happily ever after.

Photo from coolhandluke's Flickr account

That’s what happens when you open your heart to someone, when you’re left on the ground unconscious, awaking alone, with the pain you knew would come. When you choke for the words you cannot speak. When you thought you were permanently broken, when you’d close your eyes and pretend that you weren’t the person you were, the person who kept forcing until it all took her.

You just end up pushing everyone away, everyone who doesn’t seem to fit what you deem ideal for yourself. You do this unconsciously, with the tiniest hope of finding someone who would make you happy the right way; who wouldn’t break your heart. It’d be great to find someone who would have to constantly deal with who you are: the utterly complex and fragile little dreamer.

Every attempt of loving someone after that simply results to failure. Even the slightest heartache is traumatizing. You then build a wall for yourself and peek through, letting the faintest beams of light shine through, still hopeful. When you have feelings, or when those feelings want to grow on their own, you punish yourself. So you tell yourself that it’s best to not feel. Not at all.

You continue living happily; content, without desiring the kind of love everyone else dreams about and endlessly searches for. And you wonder whether or not that’s alright.

Rain

From my Tumblr

The hands of the clock ticked away as she laid on her bed, hearing the endless patter of rain on her roof. It came without warning; hasty like the wind sweeping that once dull night. She looked out her small, glass window and watched the water racing down the walls of her home. Aggressive drops with bullet-like swiftness filled the midnight sky, as she gazed for almost an hour.

And then it stopped. The night grew silent, like all sound was subdued, desperately gasping for air. She stared into the dimly lit lamp by her gate and her heart beat faster. Sweat dripped down her forehead, and her night gown stained remnants of her own anxiety and fear. The rain poured again and she could see vague splashes on the road lined up by seemingly empty houses.

She glanced at the bed beside hers, and the innocent child sleeping so peacefully was gone. The outline of the soft curls on his head and his small body curled up, his face holding features so delicate and fragile completely vanished, as if the wind blew him away with no verdict. What lay was a dark, shapeless shadow casted on the wrinkled sheets. The echo of the rain rang in her ears and filled her head. At that moment, she knew he would never return.

Trying to keep still, she closed her eyes and let the unconscious take hold of her. The winds grew stale, and she knew she was not alone. She was soon drifting off to sleep, unable to let the tranquility of the night keep her mind at ease.

As she entered another dimension, the rain once more, poured vigorously.

Getting through

Photo from my Tumblr

I find myself thinking about you quite often, when I know I am not in the position to. From where I am, I watch, enchanted and speechless, wondering if we’d ever meet. That unreasonable ache continues to throb each and every day. I have no control over it, yet my will power seems to let this certain emotion grow on its own. I long for something I can’t utter, something I fear, yet I continue to bask in thoughts of you, this knowingly requited feeling slowly killing me with every fleeting moment.

It baffles me, how my cheeks flush, how my palms sweat and how I stutter when we speak… How we glance at each other, with tacit feelings lingering in the air as it chokes us for a verdict so unexplainable, so forbidden. It sickens me when I feel the need to see you and just know you’re there, even if mere words are barely exchanged, for fear of aggravating what is quite fragile, quite dangerous.

What I feel for you, I do not know. We never will because we never can and we never should. We are divided into two different worlds, separated by fate’s cruelty.

The very thought strains me, and the everyday struggle is quite a burden, but even if I can’t get to you, even if the endings of such circumstances would remain unreachable, I sit in this corner, tender, wondering what will never be.

As much as it kills me, although I see you, what will always remain extant would be my longing to meet you at the other side.

(Non-fictional, based on a true but impersonal story)

That tiny crack

Photo from my Tumblr

On the top floor of an old warehouse, under all the glimmer of the stars and bodacious gleam of city lights, I aimlessly wonder what is beyond.

I watch my life pass by and every second is a remembrance of what has been. I have no traces of my father growing up. Mother would always keep him hidden, like a rich memory kept away. She’d always seem so distant whenever I’d ask about him. I continue to wonder if he’s the man smoking by the pavement, or the man eating a sandwich by the fountain, or the man walking his dog every day before dawn.

I consider myself a wallflower, unnoticed, unseen, unheard of. Being shoved and hit would be a daily routine for me as I’d walk down the hallways of my otherwise peculiar school. I never had any real friends. I don’t think I ever talked to anyone about anything. I just wrote them all down. I’d pretend they were being read, though.

One time, during one of our school dances, a boy talked to me. He had very bright eyes that seemed to have a life of their own. I couldn’t help staring. He made me laugh and cry at the same time, and I didn’t even know that was possible. We would see each other every day, talking about different things and going to different places. I never thought I could feel that way about anyone.

One day, I was down by the pier, at our favorite spot. The sunset was beautiful, but I wished he was there so he could hold my hand and wait until the sky was dark. It was one of our favorite things to do. I waited for hours and hours. Weeks passed by. He left town, his friend said. Didn’t you know?

My mother barged into my room to find me sobbing on the floor. “I told you not to trust him,” she said. “I told you not to trust anyone.” I tried looking into her tired eyes and I didn’t know who she was and what else she would say. Several coughs emerged as I could smell the rotten smoke coming out of her mouth. I continued crying until I dozed off on the cold floor. I stopped believing in anything ever since.

I step on the ledge, look below and watch cars viciously pass by. People seemingly, nonchalantly are taking strolls down the sidewalk. I thought of things I would say to people who would want to ask about my life, and I realized that there were none. There was nothing to say, no one to talk to, and no one who would understand.

The cool wind tries to choke me and catch my breath. I slip and the horizon disappears.

Dedication post

Photo from etsy.com

His pieces are never understood on the surface, or sometimes never understood at all. There's always something behind his thoughts so effortlessly written. This distinct complexity plucks a nerve, leaving me quite puzzled. How can I feel for something I can't even fully understand?

He knows the right mixture of fantasy and everyday life. He also has this gift of knowing how to tear my heart out and knowing which areas to aggravate, releasing emotions that I wasn't even aware of.

I consider an author to be exceptionally good if he can make me feel deeply, if he can translate ordinary phenomena into something much more than that, if he can change perspectives and of course, write about them beautifully. Murakami's a genius. Everything he writes is always so surreal, and I always get transported into a chaotic universe of some sort, where its hues are far beyond what my vast, imaginative mind can already handle.