Walang Titulo (parang ikaw at ako)

Posible nga ba

Na mabura ang isang bagay na nag mistulang permanente na?

Ang mga sulat sa dingding na araw araw pinipinta ay mawawala pa ba?

Sana may sagot. Sana may paraan

Sana magawa ko nang pigilan

Ang paulit ulit na pagbalik ko

Sa mga bagay na paulit ulit din akong sinasaktan

Sana hindi ikaw. Sana ako naman

Ako na lang

Kasi ikaw, araw araw kitang nakikita sa mukha ng mga tao na di ko kilala

Araw araw kong naririnig ang boses mo sa bawat pagtugtog ng mga kanta

Sa bawat pagihip ng hangin ay natatangay ako pabalik sayo

Nagpapadala ako

Nagpapakatanga ako

Nakakatawa, tila isang ironya

Gusto kong lumayo sa’yo pero papalapit ang lakad ko

Sana mapigilan

Ang paulit ulit na pag-alala ko sa mga bagay na dapat nang kalimutan

Bakit pa ba naging ikaw?

Sana iba na lang

Ngayon ko lang kasi naintindihan

Kung bakit may mga lote na hindi nilagyan ng bahay

Kung bakit may mga bahay na hindi tinawag na tahanan

Kasi may mga tahanan na sa tao mo lang mararamdaman

At mahal, ikaw lang ang gusto kong uwian

Nakakatawa, tila isang ironya

Para akong manhid na masokista

Nalilito kung sasaya pag nand’yan ka

O malulungkot dahil ‘di rin naman kita makukuha

Nakakalungkot, tila isang ironya

Malilimutan ba kita kung ikaw ang nagiisang tao na gusto kong maalala?

Nakakalito, isang malaking panunuya

Mahal kita pero mahal…

ayaw ko na

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PiBi

Ikaw

Ang kaba sa pagtuklas ng lugar na hindi pamilyar;

Ang takot na baka maligaw at malunod sa ingay at ilaw ng bawat kalye na papasukan. Manlalamig ang mga kamay, aligaga sa kawalan ng kasiguraduhan. Mabilis at malakas ang bawat pagpintig ng puso, tila may sinisigaw.  “Wag mo akong dito iwanan. Hindi ka pa sigurado sa iyong pupuntahan.”

Ikaw ang lugar na tinakasan.

Ikaw

Ang pag-aalangan kung may jeep pa bang masasakyan;

Ang isang oras na gagamitin sa pag-aalala kung makaka-uwi pa ba. Ang takot na baka hindi na. Mag-aabang. Magdadasal. Makakahinga. Kasya pa ang dalawa. “Sana hindi traffic sa Bauan.”

Ikaw ang busina sa siksikan na lansangan.

Ikaw

Ang mahabang paglalakbay pabalik ng bahay;

Ang saya na mararamdaman dahil sa wakas tapos na ang ingay sa siyudad. Tapos na sa paglalakad. Hindi pa man ito ang hantungan pero alam ko na malapit na ako sa dapat na puntahan.  “Tahan na sa pag-iyak, humimbing na sa kama na matagal mo na ring hindi nakasama.”

Ikaw ang pagitan ng pagod at pahinga.

Ikaw

Ang pamilyar na pakiramdam ng pag-uwi sa tahanan;

Ang ilaw na nagpapahiwatig na may naghihintay. Patunay na maswerte ako dahil may kinakabahan hanggat hindi pa ako kumakatok sa pintuan.  Mapalad na may maiinit na palad na sasalubong sa aking malamig na balat. Hinampas man ng hangin sa labas, alam mo na may yayakap.

“Mahal, salamat bumalik ka.”

“Mahal, patawad sa pag-aalangan, sa hindi ko pagsugal. Ngayon, sigurado na ako. Handa na akong mag mahal.”

Ikaw ang hantungan.

MHLKT

Meron akong teorya

Na ang bawat bituin sa langit

Ay simbolo ng bawat tao na ating makakasalamuha

Na sadyang may isa na mas maliwanag kesa sa dalawa

 

Dalawang oras ang itinagal ng una nating pagkikita

Ang natitirang dalawampu’t dalawa ay para sa pag-alala

Sa pakiramdam ko nang malunod ako sa iyong mga mata

Ngayon alam ko nang hindi lang sa araw umiikot ang planeta

 

Naalala ko lang, may siyam na planeta tayong sinaulo nung bata pa

Ang bawat isa ay may kaniyang pangalan na hindi dapat limutin

Nagpapaikot-ikot sa dila at naghihintay na muling kailanganin

Naalala ko lang, may siyam na letra nga rin pala ako sa iyo’y gustong sabihin

In Vain

June 25, 2023. Now.

She waits. Her heart beats faster than the small hand on her clock but she remained sitting on that old bench. That one particular wooden bench that witnessed everything about them.

June 4, 2016.  Saturday.

8 years had passed since that serendipitous moment. Everything was picturesque, she was walking from the other end of the path walk, on the other side was a girl holding a cup of coffee, oblivious of the magic that was about to happen. He was sitting there, on that bench. Everything happened fast, one moment they were all just tiny puzzle pieces waiting to fit then suddenly, with a pair of feeble hands and a few perfectly placed stones, the girl’s coffee was all over the place. Her dress was stained; the book that he was reading was drenched and just like that, their lives were all tangled up. Again.

June 7, 2016. Tuesday.

They both discovered that they were in the same class. They smiled at each other and uttered there first hello. (Or so they thought.)

June 7, 2003. Monday.

That wasn’t there first hello. This was their first hello, under the class of Mrs. Zaragosa – their nursery teacher. She said hello, he offered her his friendship.

October 31, 2016. Monday.

He offered her his love. This was the first time that they held each other’s hands. (Or maybe not.)

July 5, 2003. Monday.

This was the first time that they held hands. The first time that he wiped her tears. The first time that he saved her from those stupid boys who ridiculed her braid. She gave him her clip. He smiled, she called him her best friend.

And for the first time, were not just two puzzle pieces, they were the picture. Playgrounds are now castles, lunch break are no longer just lunch breaks. But both remained clueless about their fate.

April 6, 2004. Wednesday.

The first time that he made her cry. This was the first time that he bid goodbye. She was furious that her best friend’s promise that he will never leave her side has been broken. And for the first time, they were both broken. Too young, too soon.

December 26, 2016. Monday.

She said yes.

And just like that they were not just two puzzle pieces, they were the picture. Days were spent happily, nights were treated magically. Both oblivious that they have met before, shared family picnics together. Both oblivious to the fact that her old best friend, confidante, and savior is the same man who looks at her lovingly before kissing her forehead. Both were clueless.

May 23, 2018. Wednesday.

He gave up; she gave him a reason to. She begged him to stay but it was impossible because he already left.

August 30, 2019. Friday.

He passed the board exam.  She is boarding a plane to London. Both were clueless.

September 19, 2021. Sunday.

They bump into each other in Paris. Someone was waiting for him, her boss was calling her. Ironic. They were in the most romantic city in the world and all they did was uttered their awkward hellos.

April 22, 2022. Friday.

A memorable event for the field of science, someone has found a cure for selective amnesia.

July 16, 2022. Sunday.

He found the clip.

September 15, 2022. Thursday.

She has recovered. Both were not as clueless as before.

February 10, 2023. Friday.

Facebook vanished. She was clueless on his whereabouts. He was oblivious about her plans. She was hopeless.

 

June 23,2015. Friday.

She was searching for him. He found her. She was hopeful. They uttered their hellos and catch up over some coffee at a local café. She was about to say it, but someone called him, says it was an emergency. She gave him her number, he promised to meet with her again. She readily agreed.

Serendipitous, isn’t it? Destiny really is tricky and twisted. She now believes that he is meant for her. That he is her happily ever after. Imagine all those tiny tiny details and little signs that are pointing to him. She believes that they belong together, that they were meant for each other.

 

 

June 25, 2023. Now.

She waits. Her heart beats faster than the small hand on her clock but she remained sitting on that old bench. That one particular wooden bench that witnessed everything about them. Everything was picturesque; he was walking from the other end of the path walk, she waived her hands, he smiled at her. ‘This is it.’ She thought.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Before she could say anything, he handed her a box.

“What is this?” she asked smiling wide, her eyes were hopeful.

“An invitation…” He said smiling, unmindful of the sound of her heart breaking into tiny pieces as she looked down at the box and started opening it. “… Remember that girl who spilled her coffee to us? Were getting married soon! It’s such a funny story, isn’t it?”

June 26, 2023. Monday.

It was not a funny story.

It wasn’t their story.