Burning house

What hurts about it all is that I cannot muster the elegance to write about you.

No matter how hard I try I cannot stitch up the right words to describe what I feel

Somehow I always end up with the same cliche metaphors of drowning. Of being pulled down by the crushing weight of the ocean. It has always been the same sinking feeling.

And I have no other words to describe it. How i always think sunsets. How the warmth of your touch was always sunsets. Nothing remotely comes close to this feeling other than the trickling orange amidst the fading blue skies. How quick and how beautiful, how each passing day with you was always the home I longed for.

How is it that even homes are meant to be fragile. How easily it burns down, and all of a sudden we are left with bruises and burns. We tried, always tried to rebuild this home with promises and hand holds. Though it was never ideal, for a long time we managed. It kept us dry from the storms and kept us sheltered from the chaos. God, I miss running away from the world in your arms.

But I have yet to realize that promises make weak foundations. Soon enough we broke apart and you let go. As much as I wanted to do the same, I felt too stuck in this burning house. I still have to learn how to free myself from the mistakes of yesterday.

Now I bury myself in unquenched feeling of missing you. I miss you, every single day. From when you left til forever.

I am stuck in this burning house.

Looking for happiness

Dear love, if the moon caught on fire tonight, would you fly to outer space and rescue me? Or would you sit idly by and watch the explosion of red and orange through the darkness of the universe as you hold her hand… Of course, you’d choose her. She IS your happiness, right?

Me: Wow, you look beautiful today.. is there an occasion?

Friend: No, it’s just that I’m trying to win.

Me: Win what?

Friend: The whole break-up, Duh!

Me: Is there even such a thing as winning the break-up?

Friend: Of course! And I figured ..to win the break-up I should be hotter than the girl my ex is dating right now. So I win! 

Dear reader, why do some people find pleasure in the sufferings of another? Why must one laugh at the pain of his companion and enemy? Why is everyone so busy trying to win everything, when they can enjoy the happiness life offers.

I don’t think that there is a game that must be one between lovers..I think what matters after a break-up is the real reason behind the break-up. I mean, in the first place, why was separation necessary? And now that it happened, do you feel happy? Because that’s the goal right? We tend to stay away from the people we love to pursue something we all want to achieve which is HAPPINESS. Because if the person is already our happiness then why would we want to be away from them.. 

Trying to compete with someone who is not even against you is just ridiculous. Sometimes, breakups are frustrating..I know, I’ve been there..done that. And sometimes the heart does not break even which leaves one vulnerable. But I think what’s important after a break-up is understanding why it happened and turning all the bitter pain into lessons for the next person we give our hearts to. 

Love is beautiful in many ways. Even break-ups are beautiful because one day we realize how much we grew out of these happenings and sure, we cry for sometime, but by the time we stand up and try again..we learn and stumble and fall and fly. 

Love is lovelier the nth time around.

Dear reader, do I even make sense right now?

Tell me a love story

Dear reader, tell me a love story..one so beautiful that I might finally believe in love again.. one so magical that all the odds and impossibilities may come crashing into fragments of hope and realizations.. one so tragic that my tears will sting not of pain but of desire for such power of love. 

Dear reader, does such a story even exist?

I’m gonna pick up the pieces..and build a Lego house.

I can live without your hugs.. 

Because in me is a soul brave enough to survive the cold with just my own arms around my body. In my hands is the heat of the most bitter thing in this world- tears…tears that have rusted the stupidity within me that used to control me.

Take your words..I don’t need them.

I’m sixteen- young and scarred by reality. But my life does not revolve around the search for the right HIM. I may be a damsel in distress but in this beautiful life of mine, I am eager to search for my future bridesmaids that will stand by me through all the tests of time and the ones who will walk the aisle before me, making sure that the path I am taking is one worth sacrificing my youth. 

I do not need words that will vanish into thin air..for only actions can prove what the heart can only beat for. 

And when you’re long gone..who do I love?

I will love myself more. Because I deserve to grow. I’m gonna pick up the pieces and build a Lego house..one so fragile yet so amazing. I will make more mistakes because I love myself. Not taking any leap of faiths is like not living at all. It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Love is fragile. Because the great things in life are just like sugar..they crumble easily but dont be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste the sweetness life offers. 

And so today, I stand before the mighty universe..weak and tired. But I will not be vaporized into oblivion. Instead, I will recover and I will fly again…I will soar so high that even gravity will give up on trying to put me down.

Dear reader, it is in our nature to feel and be hurt. But it is only ourselves who can defy the odds and smile again. I guess I choose to smile and wait and live life.

I’m not afraid

The universe tends to reveal us. It ignites something within us. It keeps dragging us back down so that each time we get up, our true selves reveal and we discover more of the mysteries we hold inside.

So the damsel who was once so in love with the idea of utopia fell in the bottomless pits of frustration and anger. She thought the universe punished those who did wrong while the good bathe in riches. She thought the church was a hall for the famous and nice. She thought weddings carried the most truthful and passionate bonds of love in the entire world.

She was wrong.

Once upon a time, she walked in the footsteps of good and nothing but good. Never lied and never cheated. Look where that got her. She was lied to. She was cheated on. Lastly, she was trampled because she moved so slow in the race of life.

She got back up. Still blind. Still believing. She went to Sunday masses and looked disgusted when she saw beggars at the gate of the building. It was then when the universe taught her that the church is not a hall of fame for people like her. Instead, it was a hospital for souls that need to be forged again. And Jesus is the best blacksmith in town.

And when her loved one left her, she realized that the real test of love does not happen during a wedding but maybe on an airport where the promise must hold true even if distance stretches out to a million miles.

Shattered and bitter.

Once upon a time, the damsel who believed so much in the existence of fairness and balance on the world, learned that life is simply life. It does what it feels. One will fly and fall. But for a reason- so that one day when life decides to come back with more pain…one can say “I’m not afraid.”

Realizations from tidal waves of memories

Time will never slow down. 

I may still want to enjoy my high school life but alas, in three months, if fate is not so cruel, I will be standing in front of my enemies, best friends, classmates, haters, lovers (if I have any) and also my teachers from the horrid ones to the angels sent from above and maybe sitting in the audience are my “fans” too, with the spot light on me, slowly experiencing staccato bursts of flashbacks from the past 4 years of abhorrent wonders that created scars and memories to be treasured as I receive the diploma I have been chasing after since birth.

So why am I writing this on the day after Christmas instead of posting the cliche “Merry Christmas posts”?

It is because time will not slow down. 

Next year, on the 6th of January I go back into the battlefield of High School dodging my last mind-blowing Math problems, cherishing my last minutes inside my termite-infested classroom, spending my last talks with my best friends and classmates, taking my last selfies in my soon to be alma mater, and the list of “lasts” goes on.

But then I remember my first year in high school. Everyone was shy and timid and we were all scared like little red riding hoods frolicking in the meadows, oh so innocent until we met the wolf. And that’s when the story changes.

We were riding in a roller coaster and we had to learn how to adapt to its bloodcurdling ups and downs. Sometimes puking is an option as long as  no one gives up, as long as we hold on to the rails of control, we were fine.

Then we grew. But the roller coaster grew with us. When sophomore year came, the giants we faced and the hurricanes we tried to avoid grew bigger too. So everyone tried to hide in their circle of friends, slowly discovering their enemies lurking within their own circles. But let us not forget the good times. Sophomore year was fun. Adventure was everywhere, love was in the air and success was only 2 years away.

And soon enough, Junior year came. And yes we conquered the roller coaster! We let go of the handlebars of control and went wild for chaos and mischief. Our lives were libraries filled with books of legends crafted on the experiences Junior life offered. But we were blind to the upcoming catastrophe called Senior life.

We thought we were prepared. But Senior life was unique. Every minute of every day has to be seized for we were leaving our voyage. With foot prints left and stories made, the gates are closing. Then I thought, wow the irony. We only know the value of high school when it is about to end. Before, we sailed like innocent sailors across the stormy tides because we never thought of the seas coming to an end. Now, like vikings we are eager to conquer everything.

And so this is the story of an end nearing.

Reader, life has an end, not just high school. That is why we must seize every minute and make it memorable. Make everyday a story to tell and a memory worth remembering because unlike high school, life has no graduation to indicate the closing, life only has one end.