The Sunbaked King
A ray of sunshine in every bite.
Filed under Stripped …
The First Time
Here I am, seated comfortably in an airplane headed to a foreign land, and it is late at night. Rows of thin clouds are scattered across the sky outside, and to me they look like velvet– soft to the touch, exquisite to the core. Stars dot the horizon almost recklessly, and against the dark skyline they look like lost diamonds. Inviting. Enticing. For the first time in a long time, I am in awe.
Inside, the in-flight movie is about to end. The Young Girl has just stepped out of her house to meet the Young Boy in her yard, that boy who’s currently toiling under the sweltering heat to plant a simple but significant sycamore seedling, that very same boy whom she wished out of her life almost as fervently as she wanted him in. As they stare at each other across the lawn, she is reminded of how dazzling his eyes are; he, how gorgeous her hair looks. As their hands touch together in the soil beneath the sycamore and the credits start to come up, I find myself smiling. For the first time in a long time, I find myself feeling a strange warmth in my chest. Strange, but deeply comforting. Weird, but deeply relaxing.
For all the pains and confusion and heartbreaks I’ve experienced this year, what with the career crossroads and the exam blues and the failed attempts in searching for The One, I never thought that I’ll be able to relish such a rare moment of peace. In this gap and in this silence, I find myself appreciating the fact that things have turned around for the most part. Where once there was an option, there is now a resolution; where once there was doubt, there is now an absolution. For the first time in a long time, I can truly say that I am happy.
And now, as I listen to instrumental Christmas songs that remind me of family, of home, and of an innocent kind of joy, I rummage through my bag to look for a pen and a sheet of paper.
From the tip of my pen comes truth. From the tip of my pen comes beauty. From the tip of my pen comes, well, love.
For the first time in a long time, this feels like the first time.
Before February Ends
The moon is full tonight. I stare at it from the rooftop of our boarding house– my first visit this year. I have forgotten how beautiful the skyline is from this vantage point. I have forgotten how enchanting the moonlight appears as it drapes the earth with its ethereal glow. I have forgotten how comforting the night wind feels three stories from the ground.
Like everything else, I have forgotten. But now I am remembering. And remembering well.
Rewind to Friday night, and the cast of Rent the Musical had taken their final bows. My roommate was inviting me for some bonding session with friends at Boni High, but I declined; it’s been weeks since I’ve been with my brother, and it was time for some much-needed catch-up banter. But like everything else, I have forgotten that my brother is no longer single. He wouldn’t be spending the weekend with me: the girlfriend awaits.
At that point, the biggest shard of loneliness in this entire mess of a month struck my fragile little heart. Mad (as in Johnny Depp crazy, not Jack Nicholson angry), I sought for an escape. Looking at the Twitter status of my close friend showed me the solution: a spontaneous trip to Anywhere, Anytime. Frantic, seeking flight from a flurry of profound frustration, I scoured through the airline websites, typing in random destinations with reckless abandon. Unfortunately, they didn’t allow online bookings for flights that leave within 24 hours. So I did as any rational person would do: I called up the airlines.
I inquired about the earliest flight to Hong Kong. Rationalization: two of my closest officemates were there, and I definitely could find some excitement with their company. I also inquired about the earliest flight to Davao. Rationalization: I could surprise my parents with the sudden appearance, and could celebrate my brother’s 30th birthday with them.
The universe had other plans. The costs of going to Hong Kong this late were prohibitive, and the Davao plan would earn me more rebukes than resolutions. There was only one way left to escape.
Sleep.
That was probably the best decision I had that entire day. I woke up the day after feeling refreshed. And, as though the universe thought it was enough torture for me, I got four different invitations to hang out that night. I had prior plans though, so I had to decline them all eventually. I spent the entire night instead with my awesome girlfriend, and while Miss You Like Crazy was no One More Chance, it provided the release that I needed. Not to mention of course the wellspring of jokes that my girlfriend and I shared over Thai dinner and frozen yogurt at Lullubelle’s.
When she drove me home, I felt something lift from within me. When my roommate arrived minutes after, he couldn’t tell that around that very hour just a day ago, I contemplated leaving Manila, and he wouldn’t have known that I had left.
February gives way to March, and I am on the rooftop during the transition. The moon is smiling upon me. There are good times ahead, that glow tells me.
I can’t help myself. I smile back.
Message Received
February 21, 2010
1:51 PM
I guess the most appropriate thing to say is thank you. It feels good to be liked. But I know how hard it must feel that I seem to be just floating in my life now. Well, I am, and I don’t know what to do with this info. I’m sorry to make you feel this way. But I’m not even stable to hold any of my dating relationships now, even though I try. So, at least know that I’m grateful that you told me.
That’s that. Let’s all close the pages on this one, folks.
Message Sent
February 21, 2010
10:27 AM
I like you. I really do. I just wish I knew what to do with it. You’re a free spirit, I can see that, and I know this isn’t part of your plans, but I just wanted to put this out there. Sometimes I wish I didn’t like you as much, but who am I kidding.
Enjoy your life. :) Try to take a breather every so often, and don’t step too close to the edge all the time. Living life dangerously is fun, but you’ve got to rest! You’ll notice more things when you stay put.
Three pesos to express one’s emotions.
I’m seated Indian-style on my bed, waiting for the response.
Darkness (I)
I am not in a good place right now. I am fucking pissed, in other words. Kerwin will take a back seat.
Mak and Kerwin were talking this afternoon about how they perceive rejections from people to whom they extend invitations. Kerwin said, in all honesty, that he doesn’t mind rejections, except when they come from some very special people. These are the persons who Kerwin thinks are a notch above the rest, those he thinks are the best among the bunch.
The idiot. People disappoint. He will never learn.
And with that, I’m off to face the dark alone. Kerwin can never handle it, so I’m taking over, at least for tonight. Let’s see how different the experience really is.
It’s time to bring the fucking house down.
Into the Abyss I Went
Operative word: went. Past tense. Because I now realize how foolish I was to pin my hopes on something totally fleeting, and how naive it was for me to expect things would blossom into something wonderfully concrete. You just underwent a life-changing rebirth, and I didn’t exactly know what I wanted. Not the most encouraging combination.
Into the abyss I went. Epic fail.
Into the abyss I went. Epic fail.
If this didn’t happen to me, I could almost say it’s comical. Something that How I Met Your Mother would totally be on-board with. The episode would go something like this: after breaking up with, say, Stella, Ted Mosby meets Persephone Matthews, a girl he absolutely adored way back when they were in primary school. He chats her up through text and what-not, but realizes soon enough that Persephone is not interested in him. Their only connection is their experience in grade school, and that is simply not enough. Still, Ted yearns for her but he does not understand why. Fast forward to a scene “2 YEARS LATER” and Ted meets Janine Matherson, and he becomes obsessed. Janine is everything that he has hoped his ideal girl would be: beautiful, smart, and charming. Unfortunately, Janine is just being polite and not really interested in him. Still, the obsession remains, and will remain for quite some time. Cut to a scene in the “PRESENT DAY” and Ted has just recovered from his Janine obsession. This is when, in perfect comedic timing, Kirstie Rogue comes along. Kirstie is a college crush. If Janine was someone he thought would be perfect for him as a girlfriend, Kirstie was Mother material. But as these things go for Ted, Kirstie is not really interested, eschewing a chance at love for a life of partying and boys. Inexplicably, Ted trudges on. The episode ends with more heartbreak for our hero, and another opportunity for the show to screw the audience with red herrings as to the identity of the elusive Mother.
But before the episode truly ends, a realization (probably delivered most convincingly by Lily): “Ted. I get it. You’re totally obsessed with women you know you can’t have. Persephone, Janine, Kirstie– all these girls, you know they don’t really like you, and still you persevere. You don’t really like them for them. The moment they like you back, this obsession will end, and you’ll start yearning for someone else.”
“That can’t be true,” Ted stammers. “I really liked them.”
“Yes, but only for the challenge that they pose. Listen to me, you have to get over it. You have to nip this obsession in the bud. Because if you don’t, you’ll only end up brainwashing yourself even more into liking them. The obsession will not stop.”
And then it hits Ted: Lily was right. But what Lily did not say was this: was he so afraid of committing to a serious relationship that he’s so eager to chase after people he knows will reject him? In the same manner, was he so afraid of committing to a serious relationship that he’s so eager to ignore the people who actually likes him, and he might actually like back?
Overwhelming
I am overwhelmed by feeling. I am overwhelmed by feeling. I am overwhelmed by feeling.
And I am weakened by it.
...I find myself looking through the eyes of the people I have hurt, and I am deeply affected by what I see.
I thought that I have protected myself enough. I thought that I have learned to shield my emotions with a heavy coating of cynicism and jadedness. I thought that after the events of 2008, I have finally found a way to level my expectations with reality.
You have made me vulnerable.
It’s not even about romance anymore. It’s not even about you anymore. These past few days have witnessed me exposed in more ways than the erotic, than the romantic. I am bare. I tried telling myself that it’s just the ounces of alcohol remaining in my system. I tried telling myself that I just lack sleep. But nine peaceful hours later, my stomach is no longer queasy, but my mind and heart still are. Each little incident excites/depresses/ignites/saddens me. I find myself calling people left and right to share the experience. I find myself blogging things I don’t normally write about, in a persona I thought I have left behind in high school. And most eerily– most painfully– I find myself looking through the eyes of the people I have hurt, and I am deeply affected by what I see.
I am sorry. I am very, very sorry.
This sensitivity is killing me.
What have you opened? What did you do to me?